ã€ŠFridays (Continue) Onlineã€‹


 Commencement â€“ That Which Doesnâ€™t Kill

    There are moments in life that define a person. Not in any great way. Not by attaching attributes such as kind, smart, or clever. In most cases it¡¯s the day¡¯s events casually leaving behind scars that no amount of frozen terror can wash away.

    For Ken, the first defining moment was the day he came home from a field trip in the fourth grade. The events leading up to this would leave their deep scars. For that is how people grow into adults. Childhood has its way and people learn. Or perhaps they don¡¯t.

    In any case, this would be a night of many firsts for young Ken.

    At nine, Ken believed he knew everything there was to know. He knew the names of all the animals at the aquarium. He knew all the teachers and his friends. He even tied his shoes on his own, which none of his friends did because their shoes never needed tying. The latest shoe models that his father couldn¡¯t afford, but his friend¡¯s parents could, tightened themselves quite nicely. But as stated, Ken believed he knew everything, including how to turn a flaw of poverty into a party trick.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± he¡¯d say. ¡°I¡¯ve got this. I can do anything.¡±

    On this day after the field trip to the aquarium, his mother hadn¡¯t picked him up like he¡¯d expected. His father never answered the phone or text messages. In the end, Ken traveled home by borrowing four dollars from a friend and taking the city bus. It smelled and the quality of people on the night ride through town made Ken hug his light backpack tightly.

    It was their voices. Rough and dirty sounding. They spoke nothing but foul thoughts about people who weren¡¯t around. They shared ways to get even with enemies and warned each other of dark monsters wearing the skin of men who might prey on unwary children.

    The bus driver wasn¡¯t kind. He¡¯d simply yelled that Ken ought to get off the bus. Ken, for his part, fled into the darkness that resembled his neighborhood. Somehow night and all the talk of monsters wearing men¡¯s clothing influenced his views. Every corner contained barking dogs shooting out of the darkness to rattle their fences and yip in garbled tones that might have been words if a monster spoke them.

    He held up his phone and used it as a flashlight. Unfortunately, his model didn¡¯t have the new batteries which charged by using wireless signals or some other science miracle. It died six blocks from home and Ken found himself without music, without light, and increasingly worried. The dogs were that much worse without a light.

    An automatic flood light from a neighbor¡¯s driveway flicked on and scared young Ken. Wind howled through the spaces between houses. Trees waved against the moon. And all Ken could wonder, is why his mother hadn¡¯t picked him up, why his father hadn¡¯t answered the phone, and why those people on the bus spoke of monsters.

    On he went. The next-door neighbor¡¯s house almost seemed familiar. A cat yowled and dove through underbrush, making Ken jump, but he got over it and told himself, ¡°I can do anything.¡± The bushes hung too far into the sidewalk, forcing him to walk on uneven ground. He kept the bag with his digital tablet from school between him and the plants, in case dogs and monsters might burst from them.

    They did not. Ken did not know everything, but he was a smart boy. Smart enough to suspect that the worst had yet to come.

    He reached the safety of his front door and knocked. He rang the doorbell. He keyed in the code and pressed his thumb against the scanner. The door opened and in Ken went, to the dark house that felt too quiet.

    One of the dirty sounding women from the bus haunted his thoughts. ¡°There¡¯s a predator by school,¡± she¡¯d said. ¡°Just picking up kids.¡±

    Ken¡¯s home was close enough to a school. He naturally worried that the predator, a vague idea for a nine-year-old, might have gotten his family. No signs of dinner, but it was after dark on a weekday. He took off his jacket and pulled off his shoes like he¡¯d been trained. All the while he wondered why the house was so quiet, and if predators were anything like the bad guys in his video games.

    The house had three bedrooms upstairs, and everything else one might need downstairs. Their front room consisted of a few decent chairs and a television that cost more than the rest of the room put together. It was the only thing of value.

    There, in the arm chair, sat his father. In his hand, a bottle. Liquid splashed around the bottom as his father lifted it to drink straight from the neck. Ken was unsure what the container might hold, but he felt sure he¡¯d seen it earlier that day in the cupboard, mostly full.

    ¡°Dad?¡± he questioned quietly, for fear of mythical predators.

    ¡°Get some sleep, Kenny,¡± his father said.

    Ken had lots of questions but the unfocused glare in his father¡¯s eyes stilled them. He remembered that one of their cars, the nicer one, had been missing from the driveway. Bare spots on the walls had once displayed pictures¡ªones his mother loved. Ken did not understand the appeal of family photos.

    ¡°We¡¯ll talk in the morning,¡± his father said with a lisp.

    Ken foolishly dared to ask, ¡°Where¡¯s Mom?¡±

    ¡°Gone,¡± his father replied in a flat tone. As if that word answered any question Ken might have for the rest of his life. Where was the girl from school? Gone. Where was the paycheck from work? Gone. Where had his youth vanished to? It was gone as well.

    But on this night, this night that will leave a scar in young Ken¡¯s mind, his father said no words beyond ¡°Go to bed. Go to bed. Go to bed!¡± The volume of his repeating order increased until the walls rattled, and Ken¡¯s ears throbbed with pain.

    He fled to the stairs, stomped up them, and paused as a strange sound came from the front room. Ken¡¯s sock covered feet slowly tip toed down the stairs until he stood right outside the front room. He peeked around the corner.

    His father knelt, bent at the waist with hands cupping his face. His body racked with sobs. It was first time Ken could remember seeing a grown man cry. It¡¯s not something he¡¯d ever expected. Nine-year olds should not see their fathers sob.

    What followed left a bitter scar. ¡°I¡¯m a worthless man,¡± his father said. ¡°Just like my dad. We¡¯re all worthless. The curse is real.¡±

    While Ken had told his friends he could do anything, and he would reassure the teachers by saying ¡°I¡¯ve got this,¡± there were two things he suddenly knew he could never do. First, he could never explain where his mother had gone. Second, he would never know how firmly those words changed the rest of his life.

    ***

    Other events became turning points for Ken. These happenings would also be firsts for him, as many notable things are. After all¡ªsecond times can be much less interesting.

    Between the magical space of being born and becoming an adult there¡¯s school. Near the end of school there is high school. A dreaded place full of drama, classes no one in their right mind enjoys, and perhaps a not so terrible creature known as a girlfriend.

    Ken had lucked out and received a not-so-terrible girlfriend. A bit young, a bit foolish, but strangely kind. Her name, like his, was shortened. Liz. Short for Elizabeth. Like Ken, short for Kenneth. They had the eths. They had the chopped names. Even their middle initials were the same, though that¡¯s not important.

    What is of note, was Liz¡¯s family. They were also kind, engaging, warm people who made absolutely no sense to a child raised by a single parent. One who¡¯d suffered an absentee mother. One who¡¯d come from a long line of worthless fathers. He felt like a stranger in their warm house. But Liz had proven capable of persuading him. Not that young men needed much persuading from beautiful young women.

    What¡¯s more, Liz had a brother. A, as she put it, slightly younger twin brother. His name was Grant. A strange boy who spent time with his nose in books studying words and actually enjoying math. Grant had a dream. His dream walked on two shorter legs and didn¡¯t notice him. Grant¡¯s dream wished to venture to Mars and had no time for boys with their noses in books and heads full of numbers.

    Ken had never thought of brothers. They were strange to him. He¡¯d never had siblings at all. His father had, for nine years, remained useless, poor and single. Ken¡¯s destitute father never mattered to Liz, serving as further proof; she was the most awesome girl in the world. They went places together. They ate food together. They even performed the best recreational activity Ken had ever discovered in his life¡ªsex.

    Ken eagerly studied this subject in a way history class could never measure up to. Which is perfectly understandable. The war of 1812 means little compared to the sound of a woman mid climax. Dirty words were much more fun than learning about some dull old dead man¡¯s speech from fifty years ago. Ken too had a dream, he had her over and over and over until one day she said these words for the first time.

    ¡°I¡¯m pregnant.¡± Liz tried to smile with the statement, as if to soften the blow. She chewed her lip and glanced everywhere but at Ken.

    Ken stared only one place and his mouth hung open.

    ¡°Did you hear me?¡± his shattering dream asked.

    While it had been explained in school, at some length, that sex would result in children, this was the first time it had occurred to him that actions have consequences. He remembered the night his mother had left home, and he remembered the declaration of his father.

    ¡°I¡¯m a worthless man,¡± Ken repeated those fateful words. Liz¡¯s family had money. His did not. She had so many things, and he had only himself, an item he believed to be of no value to anyone. Ken tried to explain further, ¡°I¡¯m just like my dad. Our family is worthless. Especially fathers. We¡¯re cursed.¡±

    ¡°What are you saying?¡± Liz asked in confusion. Tonight, was a first for her as well. She¡¯d never been pregnant by any man, much less told her lover, boyfriend, and at that time, soulmate, they were having a child together.

    Ken did what any man from a long line of worthless males might do. His face twisted into every position imaginable. Drool ran down a chin. He wiped his mouth, feeling flushed and dizzy. And he realized the room had grown two sizes too small.

    Then he ran. He disregarded the glare of the studious brother who¡¯d never actually achieved his own dream. He ignored the confused and angry shouts of her family. He ran into the darkness of the neighborhood and ignored the breaking glass cries of his dream.

    In the darkness, he felt nine again. Lost and stumbling home with no one to turn to but a worthless father. Though home was no longer in the same place, the buses were just as dirty as he remembered. Even the nasty and snide voices of the women in the back were unchanged. The only notable differences were Ken¡¯s size and the lack of bag to hold against himself.

    ¡°My baby¡¯s father will never see his kids. He can¡¯t even pay child support,¡± one snipped. ¡°I¡¯ve got me a new man. A better man.¡± Then two rough voices congratulated the speaker for finding someone of value.

    Wind blew dark trees around, and though Ken now felt sure there were no monsters in the dark, and that predators had nothing to do with the boss at the end of a video game level, he knew he could never tell Liz, ¡°I¡¯ve got this.¡±

    Because he wouldn¡¯t. Ken identified with the father who would never see his kids. He had nothing to offer. He¡¯d never keep a woman. He had no memorable experience with a real family or providing. And like his dad and his dad¡¯s dad, and so on until the beginning time, he would prove worthless in the end.

    That night, Ken decided upon many things. Liz would be better without a man whose family had been cursed. Ken would never let himself have another child. He¡¯d do something useful with his life that existed far, far away from other people¡¯s children for fear the family legacy of being a worthless dad would spread in some new form.

    And, while he¡¯d cried plenty of times due to pain or being upset, he¡¯d never cried as a man. On the way home, he fought back that human weakness. He understood the sense of helplessness his father had felt when mom left.

    Ken swallowed his tears and moved on. At eighteen, he could enroll in the army. There were rumors in school that they could find a use for anyone. Best of all, they would take young Ken, far, far away from his barely conceived child.

    It would be hard, he thought, to be a bad father if he simply wasn¡¯t there. Though part of him prayed his child would be a girl, if only to break the family line¡¯s curse.

    ***

    A year later, Ken realized that being absent did not make one good or bad. He¡¯d discovered, throughout the course of his new career in the military, there were many people he wanted to throttle despite the vast gulf of space between their locations. A few months ago Liz would have had her baby, if she¡¯d chosen to keep it. A few months ago he could have seen his child¡¯s face. Then his child would cry and scream, for they¡¯d see exactly how worthless Ken was as a father.

    Ken focused on examples of distance and distaste. For instance, he disliked the President, excessively. Not his country. The service had taken care of any possible thoughts of insurrection. He even liked half of the people he¡¯d been training with but detested the other half. Some of the others who¡¯d signed up had dirty foul voices like the women on the buses. These people, he decided, were everywhere. He resolved not to become like them, with coarse disapproving voices that never had anything positive to say.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    For his part, he¡¯d been told to be a medic. They said, ¡°If you can¡¯t shoot a gun, you should keep the people who can, alive.¡±

    This consisted of first aid training and carrying large amounts of equipment like a pack mule turned human. To his instructors, it had more to do with aim. Cold compresses and bags of miracle fluid that acted as replacement blood. Needles and thread. Rolls upon rolls of super glue. Not everyone liked the medic in their group, but they did like the man who poured alcohol into their mouths and gave them a few seconds before sterilizing the wounds.

    Ken also distrusted the news. They lied, frequently about the state of affairs overseas. He knew, because his platoon knew. He knew because his father knew. Ken found it odd that his father had grown closer after he moved out. For almost a decade they¡¯d been strangers living in the same house, and now they had things in common. Mostly liquor and an inability to keep a woman around due to worthlessness.

    Sometime into his military service, Ken experienced a new first. He had to patch a real live human together or the man would die. That man, felt the need to talk in his shaky voice.

    ¡°How old are you, Mills?¡± the short, wounded squad member asked Ken.

    Ken smiled, offered the man a swig, and chose not to answer. The man snorted briefly and grimaced as Ken jabbed a needle into his leg.

    There was of course, all sorts of training on being delicate, practice stitching, using machinery and modern techniques. He¡¯d done a tour in a hospital but it got cut short when tension rose. The news and the President said the war was over, but his squad and Ken disagreed. They were out there now, doing peacekeeping rounds¡ªit did anything but keep the peace.

    Ken had tools. He had devices that wrapped around an arm and stitched wounds together. None of that mattered, the enemy had deployed weaponry to disable anything with electricity within miles, then they shot old fashioned bullets into the housing their squad had been moving through.

    ¡°How¡¯s he doing, Mills?¡± their leader asked.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ve got this,¡± Ken said. Being the medic gave his voice a confidence he didn¡¯t feel. Sweat poured down his face and he paused the knitting to wipe it away.

    ¡°Which way are we going?¡± someone else questioned. That was not for Ken to decide. He had never been a decision maker. They spoke, while Ken poked unkindly at the short shaking man.

    ¡°Two minutes, Mills. Then we¡¯ll take Bandit out through the side door and head toward base.¡±

    They were too far away. The mechs that should have guarded them were down. Ken couldn¡¯t focus on all the situational updates his squad barked at each other. He was the medic. His job was to patch wounds. ¡°Shooting people,¡± his instructors had said, ¡°comes second to staying alive. And you cannot be trusted with a gun.¡±

    Privately, Ken agreed. Keeping himself safe would allow him to save others. Dying would cost others, for though they all had some basic form of first-aid training, in theory Ken¡¯s knowledge went beyond the rest of his squads. For instance, he knew Bandit would have a limp for much of his life, assuming they survived.

    Truthfully, Ken understood little of the ¡°peacekeeping¡± activities they ventured out to. They¡¯d trained him on all types of skills, but nothing stuck except for the medical work. They¡¯d told him once he served his tour he could be a doctor. Doctors, Ken knew, were not worthless people. They were valued members of society who had money and something to offer the world at large.

    So he sat, prodding Bandit and dreaming of the bright future of value laying on the other side of his enlistment. In went the needle. He believed they had enough time to stick his comrade¡¯s legs, but Ken simply did not know enough. Men burst through the door, their muzzle flashes blinded Ken and he covered his face to get a better view. Ken¡¯s arm moved out of reflex for the gun, but seconds are all it takes for people to die.

    The man who¡¯d given orders took rifle fire to the chest, while the rest of their group fired upon the insurrectionists. Later he would be quoted as saying, ¡°Insurrectionists seemed such a strange name. They were hardly older than me. Perhaps we were in their house, but I¡¯ll never know.¡±

    For now, in the wake of loud gun fire, Ken¡¯s other hand felt alien as blood from Bandit covered his skin. He lifted the arm and stared at the crimson tide and wondered what he should do next. Training, he decided, had been worthless. Tonight, he¡¯d had another series of firsts. It was the first time he¡¯d been shot at, and it was the first time he¡¯d seen another man die. The second man who¡¯d taken bullets wasn¡¯t faring well either.

    Yet he¡¯d survived. Ken and the others made it home, complete with their commander¡¯s lifeless corpse, because someone had insisted they bring it back if possible. No man, alive or not, would be left behind for the enemy. Bandit, despite the blood and Ken¡¯s butchery, survived.

    At debriefing, his leadership chain said all sorts of things not worth hearing. They blamed each other for intel screw-ups for a few minutes before realizing Ken also stood in the room. Field work, they decided, might not be for him yet. He spent the next six months working indoors.

    His father, upon learning of the colossal screw-up of the military, had a heart attack. The doctors did not save him. Ken would not find out about this until many weeks later. Later, when he was given leave to return home and take care of the legalities of his father¡¯s passing, Ken realized his father had not been worthless.

    The man had been in debt for over a hundred thousand dollars. Further review of scattered papers, bill notices, phone call records and eventually cracking the password on the home computer revealed that his dad had been working to find Ken¡¯s mother, to no success.

    ***

    Ken went on to have a number of first times, even as an adult.

    Sometime during his tour of service, he finally got the vasectomy he¡¯d been asking for. He then had his first hooker, paid for by his squad. Shortly after being declared child free, he got his first STD. He then had his first doctor visit about sex the weekend after. He learned to use condoms for the first time.

    At twenty-three, freshly discharged from the service and full of hope, he dated a woman. She wanted to make things serious and introduce him to her young son. This relationship ended poorly, and it was the first time Ken¡¯s tires had been slashed. It was not the last.

    His first job was as a nurse. He went to college for the first time by taking night classes. Eventually it became obvious that the military¡¯s tale about him becoming a doctor might have been a stretch. As the years marched by, Ken struggled to make a living working in the field he¡¯d believed to be his key to a future of worth. It was not to be.

    At thirty-five, medical advancements in technology pushed Ken out of the hospital and to his first time as an ambulance ¡°care giving assistant.¡± This job required nothing from him as machinery and robots did all the real work. For the first time, he understood the humiliation of a grown man working in fast food simply to pay the bills.

    At thirty-six, roughly three years before this tale begins, he received his first charge for being a bit too drunk and driving. Shortly after he got another, and another until he had his first court mandated rehab. Thereafter he failed that for the first time, and a second, but repeats are hardly as interesting.

    Which brings this tale to a more modern time when someone else is having her own series of firsts. Firsts that will send Ken on a journey to face the past he¡¯d been carefully avoiding. Before his story can be explained, her firsts must also be recounted.

    ***

    The last few years had been a roller coaster for the Legate household. Truthfully, they¡¯d been a mess for the world at large, but few felt it with the same level of severity. A little over a decade ago, virtual reality technology had reached a level where people could ¡°dive¡± into digital worlds. They used this technology to play games, go on vacations, and reunite with family on the other side of the world.

    ¡°It hurts,¡± a woman in the room groaned. Elizabeth Legate, the younger, went by Beth. She lay upon a gurney in a hospital room with a dozen beeping devices. This hospital room was smaller than the large maze-like complexes of years gone by. With technology came a disbursement, causing places like this to become tighter and more compact.

    ¡°Childbirth will do that,¡± her mother, Liz, said.

    She remembered giving birth to Beth almost twenty years ago. The mother found it strange to see her own girl going through the pain. It reminded her of how old she was, and for a moment she realized how her own mother must have felt. Seeing someone she cared for in pain caused an echo of pain. The best drugs in the world might have made it easier, but Beth insisted on facing ¡°reality¡±.

    Beth had spent the last few years highly immersed in virtual worlds, mostly with her long-distance boyfriend. They¡¯d met once in real life and it hadn¡¯t gone well. Life found a way and the result of the one real world night between ¡°Mister Fluffy¡± and ¡°Thorny¡± ended up with a baby, who was on their way.

    ¡°Nnnngh.¡± Beth tried to speak but instead groaned. Her bare toes curled, and teeth clenched.

    ¡°You should be walking,¡± a shorter Asian woman said.

    More recently, technological advances had reached a point where the dead might be able to continue on as digital constructs. Two such beings, out of the dozen or so who had transitioned in the last few years, stood in a real world room, in a way. One was Beth¡¯s uncle, the slightly younger twin brother. The other was a woman by the name of Xin.

    Both were dead, but both projected into the room. There was no good name for life after death as a digital creation. The implication of their existence and legal nuances were constantly in flux as their people argued with humanity.

    ¡°Aunt Xin?¡± Beth asked. ¡°Is it this bad for you?¡±

    ¡°Not yet. I¡¯m not looking forward to labor.¡± Xin¡¯s belly had barely grown. Either her existence as a virtual construct or her digital genetics kept her tiny despite being six months pregnant herself. Though time on a program¡¯s clock counted differently than in the original world.

    ¡°Mom? Tell me¡±¡ªBeth¡¯s hands balled into fists¡ª¡°tell me I can do this without him.¡±

    ¡°You can. You¡¯re so much stronger than I was at your age. God it¡¯s a wonder you didn¡¯t¡ª¡± Beth¡¯s mother stopped and shook her head. ¡°Yes, you can do it. I did.¡± She paced the room. Her hair had turned into strings from sweat and nervousness. ¡°We should be walking more, right? We should be walking. That¡¯s what I did.¡±

    The only one who showed any sort of calmness was Grant. He shook his head slowly and bit his bottom lip. Information flashed in front of his eyes, displaying data that only Voices like himself, had access to. He worried for his niece. He worried for his slightly older twin sister, but Xin¡¯s pregnancy had wider implications that Grant couldn¡¯t sort alone.

    There were rumors in the database left behind by Mother. Mother being the largest artifical intelligence who had brought digital life, to life, in a way. But she had died, and so left behind predictions on what would face her children. Scary ones that made Grant¡¯s heart race more than his niece giving birth. Being here couldn¡¯t stop a looming storm, but not being here would have been worse. So, Grant worked for his future family while trying to be present for his current one.

    He wanted to focus on the events happening in front of him but continued to drift away. Every time he¡¯d space out it took a moment to replay the words being said. Even after all this time as a digital body, he still couldn¡¯t stop thinking of himself as he had been before, human.

    Xin smiled briefly at her husband and pulled them forward to take a closer look at Beth. Their niece¡¯s hand reached out before the next wave hit. Her contractions were coming closely, a little over a minute apart. It passed through the limbs of her virtual family and clanked against the side table.

    A nurse bustled into the room. She shooed at the collective figures.

    ¡°The doctor will be in soon. Elizabeth? How¡¯s the pain?¡±

    Beth glared as her eyes rolled. Her mind and body had gone white with agony repeatedly all night and the nurse simply hadn¡¯t helped. Not because she couldn¡¯t. Beth insisted on a natural birth and had regretted the decision. The labor pains had been especially bad. Though Xin, ever pragmatic, might argue that labor was torture for all women.

    ¡°Jim should be here,¡± Beth whimpered. She spoke of the baby¡¯s father, ¡°Mister Fuzzy.¡± Jim was a silly name to Beth. Liz had dated many men, two of them Jims, and they were both worthless.

    ¡°He should. He should,¡± Liz said while nodding repeatedly. She couldn¡¯t take the pain away. In her mind, even Grant with all his science mumble jumbo powers couldn¡¯t stop nature from performing as it must. Thousands of years of evolution couldn¡¯t be overcome by her brother, whose mind wasn¡¯t even on Earth.

    Liz swallowed the annoyance and took in a slow breath of air.

    ¡°Not just that stupid fuzzy faced pussy either. Your dad should be here too. Goddammit!¡± Liz stormed out into the hall as the doctor entered.

    Grant stopped spacing out and turned to look between the doorway where his sister had exited, and his niece who lay on the bed sweating from exertion. He had access to endless libraries of information but couldn¡¯t bring himself to reassure his niece. He¡¯d never been good at reassurance.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be outside,¡± Grant said. ¡°Talking to your mother.¡±

    Beth nodded, waved, and whimpered again. The nurse in charge paid no attention to the virtual people as they left the small room.

    ¡°You should find him,¡± Xin whispered quietly as they exited. Her lips moved but no one in the physical world would be able to hear what she said. ¡°Not just for Beth. Your sister too.¡±

    Grant stayed quiet. His mind whirred with thoughts going in circles until finally he shook his head.

    ¡°It would be good for both of them,¡± Xin said. ¡°Reunion is either closure¡ªor will make their family stronger.¡± Xin wasn¡¯t exactly a Voice, not like Grant. The power of a Voice was granted by the currently existing Voices, similar to the legends of Greek gods of uplifting heroes to their ranks. But she had her own gift¡ªknowing what road to take. In the digital world, her name was Hecate, who watched over crossroads.

    Not simply between decisions, but between life as mortal, and life as a digital continuation. She¡¯d been the first. She¡¯d cared for her husband upon his deathbed. She¡¯d struggled to help him cross over and over.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that would be a good idea,¡± Grant responded. ¡°I know exactly where Kenneth is. I know what he¡¯s been doing, who he¡¯s been with. I know everything about him. The man hasn¡¯t changed much. He was a shitty father and would be a crappier grandfather.¡±

    Grant knew, objectively, he was biased. As a digital being, he could replay the night Ken had fled into the darkness. He could relive it in full detail, complete with sweaty palms and a lump in his throat. The idea that the man his sister so loved could up and vanish had made Grant sick. If he dared bring up the full memory he¡¯d be hurling into a digital toilet at high speeds.

    Xin would not be discouraged. ¡°Then find him. A girl should not be without her father. Even if he is a bad one. She should at least know. To raise her son to be a good boy.¡± In this, Xin spoke not simply for her in-law, but for herself as well.

    Grant¡¯s face tightened, and he rubbed the back of his head with a free hand. Xin had always been the one to ask Grant to go outside of his comfort zone. She¡¯d been the one to push him into plane rides to nowhere and on carnival Ferris wheels. She¡¯d been the one who wanted to explore Mars as a colonist. He¡¯d followed, because that¡¯s what love meant to him.

    Xin had been the first to die and the first to come back as a digital continuation. She would be the first self-aware person to cross over and give birth. That, as we¡¯d said, worried Grant immensely.

    He opted out of worrying about the future. It would be possible for him to help his niece and perhaps make his wife feel better as well.

    ¡°Well, I know you can¡¯t scare me off that easily,¡± Grant said. He put a hand on her belly and felt for signs of movement. There were none, but he wanted to be the first to notice. Even if being digital had skewed their perspectives. Never mind that they didn¡¯t have real bodies. ¡°And if you think I should really get Ken back in their lives, I will. Even if I have to drag him kicking and screaming.¡±

    All that happened in the space between Beth¡¯s room and the seats at the end of the hallway, as time moved differently for Grant and Xin. There the soon-to-be grandmother paced uneasily. Her clothes an unkempt mess but she¡¯d taken a moment to brush her hair and held a small cup of water.

    ¡°How is she?¡± Beth¡¯s mother asked.

    Grant didn¡¯t answer the question. It had only been a minute or two since they¡¯d left the room. Nothing alarming had happened or changed but Grant kept an eye on the hospital¡¯s readings. Digital beings found it all too easy to get into places they shouldn¡¯t.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯s fine,¡± Xin answered.

    Liz glared at her sister-in-law. They¡¯d grown closer, but Liz still harbored a bit of resentment. Grant and Xin¡¯s courtship had been long and drawn out. Though if she thought about it too hard, Liz sometimes realized she was jealous of her brother¡¯s successful love life. He would die for Xin. He had died for Xin. Liz didn¡¯t have that and at night, at two in the morning, the realization hurt.

    Grant turned, gave his wife a kiss, and walked away.

    ¡°Where are you going?¡± Xin asked, though she already suspected.

    ¡°To get the ball rolling,¡± he answered. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a few minutes.¡± He¡¯d been multitasking, moving his attention between the virtual world and the digital one. To complete this goal, he¡¯d need to venture into the game world. Tools existed there that he and the Voices used to manipulate events. They couldn¡¯t violate Mother¡¯s primary mandate, in that humans made the final choice, but they could help nudge a person¡¯s decision.

    Grant¡¯s form faded. Beth¡¯s cry of pain echoed out of the small hospital room and the remaining women stared at each other. Liz closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

    Xin, as always, remained confident in her actions. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Gee will be around in case something happens. He watches over her information, and so are some other Voices. They¡¯ll do anything they need to.¡±

    Xin¡¯s statement did not reassure Liz at all. Once again Liz thought that she¡¯d never really liked Xin. It didn¡¯t help that her image faded between rooms. It served as reminder that the woman, and her twin brother, were closer to ghosts than real people.

    But they were family, and that was more than Ken had in his corner of the world. Grant aimed to solve his sister¡¯s late-night loneliness, his niece¡¯s lack of a father, and perhaps enact a bit of justifiable revenge in the process.

 Session 1 â€“ The Ringers

    In my nearly four decades of life, there¡¯d been lots of ups and downs. Recently, there¡¯d been a rediscovery of beer. Fresh out of the tap beer that couldn¡¯t be reached because I ¡°had a problem¡± with responsible drinking. So, I did what any sane person with a bit of money and modern technology might do.

    I pouted for a few weeks, attended court ordered meetings with grace, and eventually a coworker convinced me that virtual reality dives were as good¡ªif not better¡ªthan the real thing. So I got a refurbished ARC device, alternate reality capsule, and logged in.

    It was great. Online beer didn¡¯t result in hangovers. No awkward morning walk of shame after a date. No accidentally driving my car into immovable objects. Just log in, guzzle, punch some people, and forget.

    The problem with playing online virtual reality games is that the machines ruling it only gave us one character at a time. Our former overlords at Trillium, who were now fired, retired, or hiding from the news, had once insisted that a single character forced us to take our online lives seriously. They were right, and I hated them for it.

    This wasn¡¯t one character all across the virtual reality worlds. Not exactly. We got one character for the fantasy land of Continue Online. One for the space enthusiasts of Advance Online. And so on. There were five versions of the same concept and they only let you play one character for each. It got weirder once players realized events and characters between games were connected, if they asked for it.

    Which is what happened shortly after the Soulless World event. All the digital world inhabitants had become lifeless, dull people. They¡¯d come back, and some worlds started crossing genres. The whole thing was a mess and a publicity stunt by Trillium. They were sued. Everyone was sued. Eventually the worlds separated, for the most part.

    Anyway, sharing characters between games turned out be useless as it didn¡¯t give a huge advantage. The ¡°online¡± games rewarded people for trying new stuff constantly and figuring out what they were good at.

    That was the best thing about the five games. If a player got tired as shit of being a healer, mechanic, restomancer, or whatever, they could simply learn to play something else. It got leveled up and even cool cross classes unlocked.

    But I didn¡¯t care because most of my schemes involved getting beer money. Other virtual reality games exist but the only ones that could get a person drunk came with bar tabs that followed a player around.

    I¡¯d tried going to space to get a drink but they¡¯d asked for credits instead of gold. I¡¯d gone to hero land but they¡¯d wanted dollars. So, I stared at the fantasy bar wondering how to get my latest fix and wash the memories of a day sitting in the back of an ambulance out of my mind. Thursdays were officially the shittiest weekday in the universe.

    ¡°Kenny,¡± a whiner pestered me. ¡°Kenny. Kenny. Kenny.¡±

    I ignored the man and continued eyeballing the bar¡¯s entrance. This town only had one bar. There were other locations in other towns, but they also wanted me to pay my tab. Even player run bar owners knew I owed gold.

    Why gold? Because this was fantasy land. I liked the fantasy game because the waitresses wore well-filled and loose blouses. Sure, I could find a blue-skinned woman to blow my mind, but it wasn¡¯t anything compared to a lusty maid. I also enjoyed the surly gruffness to the bartender who couldn¡¯t be matched by the madness that came with capes and cowls land. It was like being in the middle ages, with toilets and fireballs.

    ¡°Kenny. Kenny, I need you, man. Tell me that¡¯s you.¡± The person wouldn¡¯t let up. ¡°We need a healer tonight to beat the other teams. Come on. One hundred gold is riding on this.¡±

    I perked up and finally gave him a glance. John, Johnny, or DapperSeed as he went by in-game, was a part-time drunk with a gambling problem. He bet anyone on anything. It sounded like he¡¯d bet on beating other groups in some monster mash event.

    Gold would clear a bar tab. ¡°It¡¯s me. What¡¯s that about money?¡±

    ¡°I knew it!¡± he shouted and hopped. Johnny¡¯s character was short, like four feet something. It didn¡¯t matter. He wore open toed sandals and his feet grew too much hair. Someone called him a hobbit, which made him scream his brains out, fight the player in town, and promptly killed by a player guardsman.

    Frequent deaths and impulse control problems explained why DapperSeed¡¯s character Rank was so low. Ranks are a fancy way of saying levels. I understood all the rules but my goals in fantasy virtual reality were focused solely on wine, women, and combinations of the two. Anyway, back to Johnny¡¯s excited hopping.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got three people and need a fourth. You¡¯re a healer, right?¡±

    ¡°Not right now.¡± I hadn¡¯t rolled anything worthwhile with this character. He cast lightning bolts, because I¡¯d gotten drunk and decided to climb to the top of the starter town¡¯s tower during a storm. Nature magic had rules too but most of them were about doing stupid stuff in unique places until something broke.

    Here¡¯s the box I¡¯d gotten during the storm. It was new and slightly worth storing the notice in my hall of shame.

    Event!

    Successfully Taunted Lightning

    High atop the tower of Butt Cheese you stood. You hurled obscenities at the raging storm, calling it all sorts of clever insults like a ¡°bed wetting fog cloud who couldn¡¯t even blow hard enough to make a newborn puppy whimper¡± and ¡°Fred.¡± The lightning cloud took offense and spent the better part of the night zapping you, or the lightning rod nearby. No one is quite sure.

    Nature Magic Learned [Tiny Lightning Bolt]

    Affinity Gained [Electric]

    [Basic Nature Magic] trait unlocked

    5 [Reputation] Gained

    The boxes could show more information as my character unlocked. Events were useful like that. I¡¯d seen a lot because traveling while drunk and re-rolling characters constantly gave me all sorts of insight. However, talking about my other characters out loud would get me in trouble.

    So, Johnny was still hopping. I¡¯d been ignoring him because healing was not a skill I had on my newest character. I¡¯d have to go pick up some basics before any dungeons or monster mashing if they wanted me to heal. Or, I could talk about one of the prior Fridays, who had been a healer.

    ¡°Right, you deleted the other Friday,¡± Johnny said. ¡°I liked him. He had pointy ears.¡±

    ¡°No, he didn¡¯t. Everything looks pointy from down there,¡± I answered.

    Friday was my character¡¯s name. I¡¯d deleted the prior Fridays when the world¡¯s story got too sour. There were lots of reasons to restart an account but most of my decisions were based on dumb plot choices. Continue Online insisted on making me deal with my issues prior to finding a tavern wench for a tumble. To which I said, ¡°Kindly fucketh thyself¡± in my best Robin Hood imitation and started anew.

    This, was Friday the 13<sup>th</sup>. It sounded worse than it had been.

    ¡°Plus, I¡¯m a new character. I¡¯m stuck in town for the rest of this week,¡± I said.

    ¡°Please. That¡¯s bullshit. You know those two weeks are for immersion only. To get the mind¡±¡ªhe whined the words¡ª¡°ready for time compression. You could get out of town if you wanted. You could walk right out the door. Right? You did it with Friday the 7<sup>th</sup>.¡±

    I did. He didn¡¯t need to hear confirmation. Telling Johnny anything good would launch the short man into a long-winded rant about how he¡¯d been right all along and we should use this in [Insert Get-Rich Scheme Here].

    ¡°Nope. I¡¯ve got to find my stash¡±¡ªfrom Friday the 11<sup>th</sup>, he¡¯d been in this town prior to deletion¡ª¡°and sell off the items. Then I can enjoy my weekend properly.¡±

    ¡°Your stash is gone,¡± Johnny said quickly.

    I paused and really eyeballed the tiny fellow. His clothes were a sopping mess, bruises were on his arms and face. He had weapons, but they might be held together by fantasy duct tape. Fantasy super glue would work, or Johnny¡¯s deluded hope that looking like an utter scrub might get him some sympathy coins.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yep. Pile Driver found them last night while you were logged off.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I¡¯d hidden them in a damned abandoned well in a water proof bag that reduced durability damage. That¡¯s the secret to re-rolling characters and still having a leg up with the new one. Take everything, shove it into a secret hiding spot that no one goes to, and get back to it on the new character. Works great if you can get the same starting region.

    ¡°Yeah. Pile Driver. I watched him loot it all,¡± Johnny said. His toes wiggled and eyes glanced side to side.

    ¡°You saw him?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. The whole thing. He stole it all. Which means you have to help me and be our healer. Because otherwise¡±¡ªhe waved a finger at me¡ª¡°you have no money to get drinks. No drinks, Friday is unhappy.¡±

    The logic gap was obvious. ¡°How did you know where my stuff was?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know where your stuff is,¡± Johnny answered.

    ¡°Then how did you watch him loot it all?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± Johnny said. He put tiny hands up and warded me off. I wasn¡¯t tall for a human, but to a totally-not-a-hobbit, I might have been a giant. It kind of made me hate Johnny because he reminded me of a kid. Me and kids didn¡¯t get alone.

    Johnny didn¡¯t answer. Telling me everything I needed to know. Either he was lying to get my help, or he¡¯d seen me hide everything and probably led Pile Driver, whoever the hell he was, to my belongings. I¡¯d had a nice staff from Friday the 7<sup>th</sup> that gave a plus to spell Ranks. It was worth a few hundred gold according to the auction house.

    ¡°So, you¡¯ll help, right? I¡¯ll talk to Pile Driver, he can give you the staff back. Right? It was in the bag. We win the dungeon run tonight and you¡¯ll get twenty-five gold. Then I take ten and double it for you. That¡¯ll be the thirty you need.¡± Johnny¡¯s math didn¡¯t add up. It never did. ¡°To get the staff that I didn¡¯t see him take but can totally help you get back.¡±

    So, option B, him lying to get me to help, went out the window. Johnny had dropped knowledge about the bag and that my staff had been in there. There¡¯d also been about two hundred gold worth of game crafting ingredients. Alchemy mostly, because I¡¯d been trying to figure out how to brew an everlasting tankard. Thus far, no dice.

    I glared. ¡°My staff. The staff he shouldn¡¯t even have. Should he, Johnny?¡±

    I wanted to tackle him but my [Brawn], a fancy word for strength, was at a measly seven. That¡¯s not even average for a new player. Ten¡¯s benchmark. One hundred is seasoned. Three hundred and above is on par with dragons and godlings or whatever monsters represent them. There were a whole mess of stats but I hadn¡¯t looked at them. The game bent me over the barrel a bit harder with each new character. I¡¯d have to do a week¡¯s worth of pushups to get anywhere useful, which was one of the big reasons behind the newbie in town timeframe.

    ¡°He totally has it. With the green jewel on the top right? Made from some cat¡¯s eye,¡± Johnny said.

    My eyes fluttered. ¡°Sure. A cat¡¯s eye.¡± It wasn¡¯t from a damn cat. Cats were as bad as kids.

    ¡°You be our ringer, because we need a low-level healer who can handle quick pulls, and I¡¯ll get you your staff.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t even have the stats for being a healer,¡± I said.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. You¡¯ll get back to average quicker by doing stuff. You know. I know. The game wants you to do stuff. More stuff than sit in a bar all weekend crying to the bartender about how there¡¯s no good women in the¡ª¡±

    I grabbed him, clamped a hand over his mouth and prayed he wouldn¡¯t use his much higher strength to stop me.

    Johnny¡¯s stupid face twisted in an obvious grin I felt under my fingers. After a moment, I let him go and vowed to tackle him to the ground if he talked about my milksop attitude again.

    ¡°You in? First pull starts in four hours, game time. East dungeon, Widow¡¯s Children. All undead and shit. Perfect for a priest if you¡¯re feeling up to reclaiming Friday the 7<sup>th</sup>¡¯s legacy.¡±

    I checked my stats again briefly. There might be ways to do it without letting the game link my characters together. That¡¯s what would happen the minute I admitted to being Friday the 7<sup>th</sup>. I¡¯d get a percentage of the character¡¯s skills, Ranks, and character points. I¡¯d also get all the backstory baggage with it.

    ¡°Give me a half hour. I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡±

    Johnny, also known as DapperSeed, nodded his tiny ragged head and turned to escape. I frowned as the short man left. His clothes were an utter mess and even the pants he wore were clearly held together by bad patchwork. His skills as a tailor were utter crap.

    ¡°Oh, hey, Johnny!¡±

    A good twenty feet away, Johnny hunched and turned slow. ¡°What is it, Friday?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to need you to tie yourself up and go into autopilot. For skills, you understand?¡±

    A frown cut across his face from ear to ear. I smiled in response. ¡°I need a test dummy to practice on. You still have those crappy rope skills right?¡±

    He didn¡¯t nod. His eyes shifted back and forth as if debating the value of escaping now versus staying for whatever I planned next. While his eyes looked away, I stood on my tip toes and slowly crept toward him. Moving like this wouldn¡¯t get me stealth skills in a single hour, but it¡¯d start the process. There were too many ways to develop a character.

    ¡°Maybe I shouldn¡¯t¡ª¡± he started as I grabbed him. Johnny¡¯s character could have escaped. By the same token I could have done all sorts of things to unlock a mile long list of skills and abilities. It¡¯d be worth self-destructing a character simply to ensure Johnny never thought about stealing from me again.

    I thought about Friday the 3<sup>rd</sup> and 4<sup>th</sup>. Maybe revisiting those characters wouldn¡¯t be so great after all, but Johnny didn¡¯t need to know.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Come on, pal. It¡¯s so we can win this bet. You don¡¯t want me to have zero ranks before we start the dungeon, do you?¡±

    He remained still in my hands like a kitten being grabbed by the scruff of their neck. Then his character logged off before anything more could happen.

    Four hours in-game would be one hour in real life. It got really confusing because I kept my system time displayed and the game world ended up being distorted. It would be night time in an hour of game time, but only seven in the evening outside. Technology was wonderful.

    Explaining what I was doing and the rules for the world were nearly pointless. Most long term players already knew. However there was one trick not everyone was aware of. Talking aloud while practicing a skill would help the skill grow faster, up to a point. Medical knowledge helped. Science helped. Admitting I still vaguely knew how to reload a gun and clean my equipment, from a four-year stint in the service, gave gunsmith and medic skills.

    Medic was the one I needed if they wanted me to be a healer. It would take me another two hours, in-game, to demonstrate I knew how to channel a spell.

    ¡°Come on. We need to discuss our plan to win all this money,¡± I said to Johnny¡¯s autopilot. While being out in the real world, an autopilot acted in accordance with the owner¡¯s personality traits. Mine, if I ever let it work, went for a bar and made snide comments to everyone. It also, according to the system text, acted as if it knew more than everyone else. I mean, I did. It didn¡¯t.

    Johnny¡¯s autopilot was worse than the human who operated it. The small man had a vacant look and would do anything someone told it, as long as there was money at the end. It would be tied up, dangled over fantasy crocodile pits, run distractions on guards for rich houses, fight someone, bite their kneecaps, whatever.

    Butt Cheese, a town with maybe forty buildings, most of them being player homes, was a suburb of King¡¯s Ground. We found a quiet spot between empty houses and I made Johnny¡¯s character strip.

    ¡°How much is this worth?¡±

    ¡°Your share of the bet. It¡¯s worth exactly that much.¡±

    His autopilot frowned, and I started labeling parts.

    ¡°All right. Arm. Leg. Feet. Nose. Eyes. All basic.  There are major veins running through here, here, and here.¡± I poked the autopilot. It held perfectly still and said nothing about the awkwardness of our situation. Honestly, I hardly noticed and continued spouting random facts that came to mind.

    There were blood veins everywhere which meant my statements didn¡¯t earn me a lot. It would have been better if I remembered the scientific names for everything but I¡¯d forgotten most of that information. I recited a basic time frame for how long it would take him to bleed out. What kind of damage would be hardest to triage. I shared drug dosages I¡¯d learned while working in as an emergency medical technician. I spouted more knowledge from when I¡¯d been in the service. Facts from college courses.

    I talked until my voice hurt.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± a female voice asked me from the home¡¯s corner.

    ¡°Building my skills with a volunteer,¡± I answered then said the average bone counts for a human male, female, and any other facts I thought of.

    She, whomever she was, waited until I petered off before saying, ¡°It sounds like you¡¯re talking nonsense.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nonsense with a purpose. You should try it instead of bothering me.¡±

    She wasn¡¯t rude, really the girl had been confused about my actions. It had more to do with the fact that she seemed to be twelve at most. Maybe she was twenty, I couldn¡¯t tell anymore. Girls looked like brainless kids at that age. I preferred a woman who¡¯d seen some shit and knew what she wanted from life.

    Though if a woman was my age, and still didn¡¯t know what she wanted, I tried to stay away. Relationships were a nightmare, it¡¯s why I was currently single.

    ¡°Why is he naked?¡±

    ¡°Because he¡¯s short and I have trouble finding out where all his parts are.¡±

    She giggled. I smirked briefly and narrowed my eyes at Johnny¡¯s chest. His character had a number of nasty scars crisscrossing his body. The guy had let himself, or his autopilot, be abused until it was a wreck. I couldn¡¯t figure out how another person would even play a game like this.

    ¡°Does that really build skills?¡±

    ¡°Kind of. All of Trillium¡¯s main games operate the same way. Demonstrate knowledge, apply, repeat until you improve. The game wants to reinforce learning that can be applied in-game and out.¡±

    Event!

    Bareback Alley Beginners

    You and a friend found a small alley. You got your friend naked and proceeded to touch him, without getting consent. Then you called his body lots of long complicated sounding names. Some medically accurate. Some gibberish¡ªclearly made up to feel self-important. But hey, at least someone enjoyed the show.

    [Mentor] skill Rank 1 Earned

    [Basic Medic] skill Rank 2 Earned

    [Pervert] trait demonstrated

    + 3 [Knowledge] for demonstrating skills & traits

    I sighed. That sort of went where I¡¯d intended. Medic skills would help with any healing performed. It was different from [Healing] magic in that [Medic] skills required tools and time but didn¡¯t use mana. They also fixed aliments like broken bones way better. For some players, this didn¡¯t matter because they¡¯d gain passive healing over time. [Knowledge] would help me with in-game guides and walkthroughs on spells, but if I could do them without resorting to the help system that [Knowledge] essentially was, I¡¯d get more.

    It was the [Pervert] trait that bothered me the most. Traits impacted everything the Locals looked at as well as autopilot actions. It seemed unfair. Johnny hardly counted as human to me, plus I¡¯d seen so many naked bodies over the years I¡¯d hardly noticed. In-game wouldn¡¯t know that until I said something.

    ¡°Can you turn around and pretend you¡¯re not watching me touch a naked man?¡± I asked her.

    ¡°Maybe if you put some clothes on him and stop playing doctor.¡±

    ¡°I am a doctor,¡± I said.

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Sort of. It doesn¡¯t matter.¡± A robot had taken my job. Robots had taken lots of jobs and relegated humans to comfort tools. Me and puppies were almost the same, except puppies were a hell of a lot more successful with the ladies. ¡°Turn around please.¡±

    ¡°Mmmhm. No. I think I¡¯ll go get a guard and tell them. It¡¯ll level up my reputation and respect.¡±

    I rolled my eyes. Based on her clothing, it was a bluff. She¡¯d more likely fit a rogue path. It didn¡¯t matter. I¡¯d gotten about as much out of Johnny as possible and debated sending his autopilot after the girl like a rabid monkey. The idea went out the window because being cornered by guards would mean death or jail time. Both would make us miss the window for the dungeon. Johnny had also suffered through enough [Redemption] point runs over the year, of real time, I¡¯d known him.

    ¡°Fine. Johnny, clothes on.¡±

    I turned and finally looked at the girl for more than a second. She wasn¡¯t twelve at all. Tall, thin, kind of tanned and wearing newbie gear. She had a black dagger tucked into her belt and wore thick shin guards forming wicked spikes at the knees. I figured her to be a melee fighter who had barely figured out how [Brawling] skills worked. Brown, was my overall impression. Brown hair, brown eyes, brown clothes. Her young sounding voice was the only real trait to stand out.

    ¡°That¡¯s not Johnny. That¡¯s DapperSeed.¡± She pointed above his head.

    ¡°Johnny¡¯s his real name. DapperSeed is the autopilot, or whatever. I mean, my name¡¯s not Friday. But it is. You get it, right?¡± I pointed above my head where the name box should be.

    She mocked my attempt at explaining in-game avatar names by lifting an eyebrow and biting her lower lip. ¡°You know him in real life?¡±

    ¡°Some days.¡± Johnny had gotten me started on this game almost a year ago. That had been Friday the 1<sup>st</sup>. Friday the long deleted with all his backstory and drama buried in a deep hole. I¡¯d made sure to throw myself in before confirming the character¡¯s destruction.

    ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± I answered. ¡°We¡¯re working together on a project and I needed his autopilot to brush up on some skills. I got what I needed, his clothes are on, so can you please go away? Calling the guard would slow me down.¡±

    ¡°He seems harmless enough for an autopilot, but you should probably be hauled off.¡±

    I glanced at her, back to him, and sighed heavily. I¡¯d gotten too old to put up with any of this nonsense.

    ¡°Fine. Johnny, go about your day.¡±

    ¡°What about the money?¡± the autopilot asked with the same whiney tone Johnny used.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be doing the dungeon later, like you said, remember?¡± I widened my eyes and nodded a lot. Autopilots weren¡¯t stupid, they were simply dull. There¡¯s a world of difference between a well-trained robotic version of a player and the actual player. I¡¯d say it was the soul, but I wasn¡¯t sure such a thing existed. Whatever it was, the lack of spark could be seen by anyone. That and the giant icon of an airplane pilot floating next to their character name.

    ¡°Dungeon. Right, I have a bet with Pile Driver and his group that we can clear Widow¡¯s Children before he does. There were two other groups as well. The pot¡¯s two hundred,¡± Johnny¡¯s autopilot said slowly.

    ¡°Two hundred? You told me one,¡± I said.

    ¡°Told me fifty,¡± the girl said.

    ¡°It probably won¡¯t matter. There¡¯ll be gold but his autopilot lies easier than the actual player. That¡¯s one of his traits, liar, Rank Four or Five.¡± Even his autopilot was untrustworthy.

    ¡°Right, one hundred and fifty. Fifty from each team. And I always tell the truth.¡±

    ¡°Not even when you¡¯re beaten,¡± I said.

    He shrugged.

    I didn¡¯t ask who¡¯d paid our portion of the pot. It sounded like joint gambling where each team wagered something on the outcome. A fun way to pass a boring task. Clearing dungeons may have been exciting to some people, but I could barely keep myself awake. The early stuff had no challenge and I normally restarted before getting to the higher end fights.

    Plus, I didn¡¯t have good ways to clear my bar tab tonight without winning this bet. Even if the amount was fifty, one fifteen, or whatever.

    ¡°Friday is our healer. He¡¯ll be able to do it, no problem. He could probably clear the dungeon faster than the other two teams combined if he really wanted. If we have enough time for him to get ready,¡± DapperSeed said.

    ¡°We¡¯ve only got three hours left, in-game. That¡¯s even less in the real world. I¡¯ve got to feed my son,¡± the young girl said and stared at me. ¡°You¡¯re the healer? What¡¯s he mean by you could clear it all? You¡¯re barely Rank One in anything, much less a healing Path.¡±

    I studied her and put the situation together fairly quick. She was either in our party, or one of the others. She had probably been searching for Johnny. She had all the markings of a new character and none of the guile I¡¯d expected from an experienced rogue.

    ¡°I have been known to stitch a body or two together,¡± I responded. ¡°What are you doing? Damage?¡±

    ¡°Sure am. Johnny is on traps and treasure. I¡¯ll be dealing damage. There¡¯s a fourth but Johnny didn¡¯t tell me who anyone else was. That¡¯s why I came to find him.¡±

    ¡°And the thing about the guards?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not the only one who needs skills before the dungeon starts,¡± she said with a shrug. ¡°Johnny, I need an advance on our earnings tonight. I¡¯ll pay you back.¡±

    I snorted, she was trying to hit up an autopilot of one of the poorest and saddest players I¡¯d ever run across, for money. Hopefully she¡¯d be better fighting then her street smarts indicated. Young people were sad sometimes. Based on her items, the woman might be going after a rogue play style which did nothing to undead. They didn¡¯t have vitals or necks to stab.

    ¡°You won¡¯t get any from him.¡±

    ¡°If you give me a few coins I¡¯ll go make some trades. I can get you double your investment, easy,¡± the autopilot of DapperSeed said.

    ¡°Really?¡± She lifted an eyebrow. ¡°Can he do that?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I said while fighting a chuckle. ¡°He does nothing but leak gold. In-game, out of game. Can¡¯t keep a dime in his pocket. With that and his compulsive lying, I¡¯m not even sure how he has the internet. Maybe he steals it from a roommate or something.¡±

    Johnny¡¯s autopilot tilted its head while staring at the mystery woman. ¡°Five gold would be enough. I¡¯ll get you ten. I swear.¡±

    My lips curled with a smirk. Johnny¡¯s [Conniving] skills might have been high enough if he hadn¡¯t died so many times. He¡¯d run this type of scam on nearly everyone. Most people gave in once, figuring five gold wouldn¡¯t hurt. He¡¯d done it to me, come back with proof that his five gold to ten plot worked, but he lost it trying to turn ten into thirty. He followed up with a demand for five more gold so he could get us the ten back and break even.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have five gold,¡± she said.

    ¡°I can smell it. You have at least¡±¡ªJohnny¡¯s autopilot sniffed and bounced happily¡ª¡°thirty-two gold. Fifteen silver. A sword worth¡ª¡±

    ¡°What?¡± she squeaked in outrage.

    I folded my arms and considered other ways to build skills. I knew a little bit about the town but most skills required training from a Local, who gave the Traveler some task they¡¯d have repeat over and over for hours. Local is a fancy way of saying a person who thinks this game is the real world. Outside the virtual reality world, we called them AIs, artificial intelligences.

    Travelers were people who visited the game worlds. In other games it would have been PCs, player characters, and NPCs, non-player characters. The distinction didn¡¯t matter a ton. Everyone felt real enough because even the bar wenches would hold a grudge and stab a PC in their sleep if something bad happened.

    I could go outside town and find a river and try to breathe underwater. I could channel lightning bolts into it for a quick [Knowledge] point and some skill ups with the Path of a [Natural Mage]. Might get a few fish for a meal, but without a cooking Path I¡¯d be unable to turn fish into bonuses. Though lightning wouldn¡¯t help with healing. Maybe I could use plants and try a druid class. They balanced between both healing and offense, which would help me in bar fights.

    I¡¯d never deliberately followed such a Path. My other characters had been different archetypes. Barbarian, Rogue, Mage, Drunk, Philanderer, and once I¡¯d had an [Escape Artist] to Rank 10.

    The woman¡¯s words cut across, ¡°Maybe I should let you two go back to poking each other.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll let you poke me if you want. Two gold,¡± DapperSeed said. ¡°Or twenty gold and I¡¯ll find you a rare item. I take no responsibility for usability. Or prettiness. Or color. Color is extra. Thirty gold.¡±

    I figured it was about time to let the poor girl off the hook.

    ¡°No. On second thought, Johnny, or DapperSeed, it doesn¡¯t matter what she wants. You should stay with me. Maybe I can use you to get a healing skill and fix a scar or two before we do the dungeon. God knows those have to be hurting your constitution.¡± [Constitution] linked with health, endurance, pain feedback from immersion, everything. Excessive pummeling would damage stats. There was something like twelve main stats in the game with a million sub stats for number junkies.

    She put up her hands to make me pause. ¡°You can heal scars?¡±

    ¡°Not until later Ranks, I think, but trying might give me a few points.¡± It would too, everything did at first. The Ranks increased fast enough until about Five on any Path. After that it slowed progressively. Sometimes, I think the game slowed us down to force us to try new stuff or learn another class. ¡°You¡¯re free to join us. It¡¯ll keep me talking which helps.¡±

    I liked talking. I liked sharing what I knew with other people. Real world medical knowledge meant so little in my daily job that I¡¯d forgotten nearly everything. My time with Johnny and the pop-up boxes had implied basically the same thing. I could barely remember the technical names I¡¯d spent semesters memorizing in night classes.

    I wasn¡¯t sure if that had to do with my new job or how shitty I¡¯d been at medical work in the first place.

    ¡°Where are you headed?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to the woods south of town. I need nuts,¡± I said and while getting ready to head out. ¡°Johnny can find a ton even on autopilot, but if you spend an hour searching, you should get a skill. Treasure Hunting or Foraging or something. Probably foraging, which helps with wilderness survival.¡±

    She nodded. I took that as a cue to get going.

    ¡°And nuts help you heal?¡±

    ¡°If I plant enough of them. Even more if they grow, I guess, but¡ª¡± my lips tightened to stop spouting prior character knowledge. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. That¡¯s long term. If I can plant enough I think that¡¯ll work. It worked for a Celestial Druid I knew. He drank me under the table while telling me all about how he got his weird character. Course he planted the seeds under the stars and constellations. Said he did the Big Dipper fifteen times.¡±

    ¡°Planting gives you a skill? That¡¯s so neat,¡± she said.

    ¡°Yeah. Do that enough, inspect Johnny¡¯s scars and focus on fixing them. If I had some crystals I could run them along the scar lines to get a better skill but that¡¯d take all night. I¡¯ve only seen real crystal caves in the old starting towns. Players mined them all out, so they barely work anymore. I think most were put into bombs.¡±

    Players ruined a lot of stuff in their search for materials. I remember when I¡¯d been young, there was this game all about digging through stuff and building bases to survive the night. There¡¯d been a few public servers where people could work together, but most of the time they devolved into sabotage parties as players stole from each other and broke houses in sneaky ways, so monsters could get inside. It proved that video game people were generally assholes to each other.

    ¡°You really think you can do all this in a few hours?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s possible to pick up Paths quicker. Apply real world skills to the game world. People who practiced Hapkido outside and bring it in to try against warrior trainers get Rank One almost right away. Of course, the Locals don¡¯t like being put in joint locks so players also get their rears handed to them because of stat differences.¡±

    Our travel went through the player town. Houses widely varied in both design and decoration. Players were compulsive about putting attention grabbing items all around the outside, and nasty traps on the inside. Some of the houses didn¡¯t having anything of value and were more like deadly obstacle courses. I¡¯d checked on a prior character.

    Since the girl hadn¡¯t objected to my rambling information, I kept going. ¡°There¡¯s this mage I heard about, took all of her science courses from the real world, used them in-game, became a Fusion Mage or something insane.¡±

    There was a pause as she thought about whatever young women thought about. ¡°And you¡¯re a doctor,¡± she said again. Her tone suggested I might be a homeless person who¡¯d found virtual reality gear.

    ¡°Yeah. If I can show it, I can use it. You could try it too. What are you good at?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I used to sing¡­¡± She paused, and her footsteps halted. I kept going a bit before turning to see if she¡¯d decided not to join the autopilot and me in our woodland adventure.

    ¡°You all right?¡±

    She stared at me, chewed her lip for a moment and shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    There were only a few more blocks before we reached the edge of town and got to one of the gates that blocked us from the dangerous monster spawning world outside. The gates were well coded, with clever markers like ¡°N¡± or ¡°E¡± for which way the exit went. My target, a relatively quiet forest called [East Woods] was used by newbie lumberjacks, herb pickers, trappers and everything else under the sun. Most people left it as soon as possible because skill gains were low in weaker areas.

    ¡°You coming?¡±

    The young woman swallowed. I tilted my head and smiled. The kid had a lot of questions, about me, about the game, and that didn¡¯t bother me at all. I liked talking. It¡¯d gotten me through the service. It¡¯d gotten me through medical school and my internship. I enjoyed talking to the patients who were less critical while working on the ambulance. Talking is how real people shared and learned information.

    ¡°All right. We¡¯ll get you wherever for this scheme, then I need to take an hour out before our dungeon. You okay with that?¡± she asked.

    I nodded. Of course, real life came first. Being able to play in virtual reality didn¡¯t cure us of the need to take a bathroom break or move around. Especially as I got older, I need to take breaks and stretch. ¡°Real life makes it hard. That¡¯s why I named myself Friday since I only get to play on weekends. Kind of keeps my happy place separate from the real world, you know?¡±

    Her eyebrows tightened, and lips curved in a brief frown. Seconds later she¡¯d managed to bottle up whatever was bothering her and we stepped through the eastern gate into the woods.

 Session 2 â€“ Natural Shortcuts

    [Nature Mage] and [Druid] were different Paths but often shared skills. Paths were a fancy way of saying ¡®classes I¡¯d trained in¡¯ and Ranks were how the game tracked levels. Only there were no levels because that implied a cap on skills. The game didn¡¯t believe everyone should cap at the same point because different people showed different abilities. Demonstrated skills weren¡¯t official yet but close and served as the virtual world¡¯s way of acknowledging the player being onto something.

    The world had a lot going on within it, but at the same time most of the terms and statements were self-explanatory. Wield a sword, get a [Sword] skill. Stab someone, get a [Stab] skill. Sneak around, get a [Sneak] skill. Combine them and get good at being a stealthy backstabber with some fancier skill name. Those were only barroom rumors to me. I knew the basics. A lot of the basics, which came from re-rolling characters thirteen times.

    I could say that [Woodworking] skills were insanely well respected on the central planes of [Arcadia]. On the third continent to the east, part of some extra territory a player had unlocked, kingdoms rose and fell every month, but [Winemakers] were treated like lords.

    For anything Druid, nature was key. It sure beat Priest Paths where we had to believe in gods, or their in-game equivalent, Voices. Each Voice had their own little corner of behavior. Games in ages gone by had handed each God a portfolio. Doug the Great and Powerful Twit might oversee anything related to hookers and meth. Which ruined lives but hey, believing in him would give related powers. Priests were the same in Continue Online.

    Short story long, Druids were probably more my speed, especially since my two trips down Priest land had soured. Somewhere out there were Voices who hated all Fridays.

    The first dozen yards into the forest were peaceful. No monsters or anything else. I stopped under the large tree and searched for fallen nuts. Each tree had a few but it would be impossible to know for sure which ones might take root and which wouldn¡¯t. I decided to finally engage in social pleasantries. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    The girl paused and frowned. I spared her a quick glance to confirm the silence matched her expression but kept walking. Time online was a factor, and the better I did in this stupid dungeon, the quicker we¡¯d earn money. Money meant drinks. Drinks meant a nice relaxing vacation after a shitty work week. That was the point.

    ¡°Rose,¡± she said. ¡°Can¡¯t you see it?¡±

    Her question was put on hold while I took stock of the time. Twenty minutes in-game passed and I¡¯d gathered a few dozen nuts. Half were partially sprouted and might take root if I put them into top soil. I¡¯d have to find a good clearing where players had chopped away the woods.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have an Inspect style skill yet. Don¡¯t like them, and this character was started last weekend.¡±

    ¡°Really? My characters a month and six days old.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s specific.¡± My chatter was mostly to kill time while I gathered. I¡¯d offered to help Rose with some skills, but she didn¡¯t seem interested. That was fine, I guessed. We were different people and she may already know all the tricks.

    ¡°I have good cause to remember.¡± Rose caught up and paced me. I got a sidelong glance. ¡°Do you really only play on weekends?¡±

    ¡°Mostly. During the week I do nothing but work and sleep. Check the news. Take day classes. Mostly work though. They¡¯re long shifts so I try to really enjoy the longer weekends in here.¡±

    Her head cocked to one side. ¡°You just started, and they want you to heal a dungeon?¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t¡ª¡± I stopped before my talking ventured into a dangerous admission. I didn¡¯t want to reroll to Friday the 14<sup>th</sup> so soon after starting the 13<sup>th</sup>. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ve healed lots in other games. I can heal in this one too. Plus, I might be able to tell you how to get some skills too. I used to play¡ª¡± I paused again. ¡°I know about a lot of shortcuts to the early Rogue stuff.¡±

    ¡°Really? You have like, six depth. How do you know stuff?¡± Rose asked.

    She knew my stats better than I did. I¡¯d barely bothered checking since they rarely mattered. The game rewarded players based on how they acted and played. If players wanted to be stronger, we had to do stuff that required strength. If players wanted to have more [Depth], which was the machine¡¯s fancy way of measuring personality, I guessed, we needed to demonstrate more complex thoughts. My [Depth] was utter shit in every game.

    We kept chatting. I¡¯d certainly been around the block enough to have something to talk about. Rolling twelve characters and doing different things with all of them helped, which I leveraged to build stats. It all went back to my understanding of the game¡¯s system. I had theories on how the machine gods measured it but didn¡¯t really care. That served as a good reason for a low [Depth] score. [Knowledge] on the other hand, all the little facts I knew, could go through the roof. It¡¯d gone up another two points as we chatted.

    ¡°I can heal. At least a Rank One or Two dungeon. Three or more would be hard. In most of these starter places we only need to mix up damage and healing, then pause between pulls. Though I don¡¯t remember this place. Where were we going?¡±

    ¡°Widow¡¯s Children,¡± Rose reminded me.

    I nodded. The name didn¡¯t help. It could be spiders. It could be a crazy lady with zombie children. It could be both.

    ¡°Do you know anything about it?¡± I got the impression she¡¯d either played other games or been around the block on other characters like myself. Mostly from her knowledge of a random dungeon like Widow¡¯s Children after only a week in-game. She may have been smart enough, but old age and treachery beat young age.

    ¡°There¡¯s some lore but I don¡¯t have it stored. It¡¯s¡ªundead I think. I remember some lady turned her children into vampires or something to be with them forever. I¡¯d have to check for more information. Sure you don¡¯t want to be a priest?¡±

    ¡°God no. I did¡ª¡± There I was again, for the umpteenth time, about to spill knowledge about the prior Fridays. ¡°Priests are tough to play in this game. Me and the Voices have issues. I haven¡¯t found one I like yet.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll bet,¡± she said. ¡°Though there¡¯s a Voice for everything. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s one for egotistical old men who think they can be healers in a few hours.¡±

    I lifted an eyebrow and puckered my lips. We had another thirty minutes to search for nuts before I¡¯d have to rush off and plant them. Hopefully, I could put up with her until then. Young people were all over this game and most of them were quick but stupid. It had been the same in every game I played. Shooters were filled with children who praised themselves for high reactions and still lost when it came to cooperating with their team. They were often the loudest and their whiny voices could be heard over voice communications giving impossible suggestions.

    It didn¡¯t matter. I shook my head and returned to the subject at hand. ¡°Like I said, I can heal this place.¡±

    It might be worth it for twenty-five gold and part of my stash back. Then I could delete myself and re-roll Friday the 14<sup>th</sup> if the consequences for admitting my ties to another character got to be too much. Re-rolling cost nothing except a few points knocked off at the start. Those could be recovered easily enough.

    ¡°Really? I¡¯ve known a lot of healers in other games. You can¡¯t just step into it, no offense.¡± Her eyes were dull and flat. I got the impression she didn¡¯t mean the ¡°no offense¡± part.

    ¡°I can. I¡¯m a doctor. You should call me Doctor Friday, if you please.¡±

    Trait Demonstrated: [Arrogance]

    Pseudonym created: Doctor Friday

    Warning!

    Actual Doctors will take offense if your skills can¡¯t back up your mouth.

    Great. I was on my way to being an [Arrogant Pervert]. It shouldn¡¯t matter too much if I demonstrated enough skills to cancel it out. The game made allowances between earned arrogance and unjustified ego. I had healed in lots of games. Continue Online was hardly my first, though it was often the most surprising once I got past the starter Ranks. There were plot twists to the world that scared me from time to time. No other game made me feel as¡ªtargeted¡ªfor lack of a better word.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see. How many of those are you going to pick up?¡±

    ¡°More. A lot more. I¡¯ve got thirty minutes though.¡± I finally remembered a better way to do this than dealing with all the hard work myself. ¡°Johnny! Find me nuts.¡±

    Johnny¡¯s autopilot, who¡¯d been suffering in silence near us this whole time, glanced around and grabbed his crotch. ¡°Four gold,¡± DapperSeed said.

    My eyes rolled. ¡°Not those nuts. Like these. As many as you can.¡±

    ¡°Three gold,¡± DapperSeed countered.

    ¡°How about you help me so we can win this bet for one fifty.¡± During this entire conversation I¡¯d continued searching. My hands felt grimy from sifting through the dirt but the game might make a [Druid] class easier if I rolled around in mud instead of simply digging. I¡¯d try that as a final resort. Though it¡¯d be kind of fun to get all muddy and not have to worry about scrubbing my skin raw come Monday.

    ¡°It¡¯s three hundred,¡± DapperSeed said. ¡°And I can turn it into four hundred if you let me have ten gold now.¡±

    ¡°Find me more seeds.¡± DapperSeed was impossible to talk to until we promised gold later. He only bothered me if he wanted money, in-game. He always had another plan. Most of them were utter shit.

    ¡°I need ten gold,¡± Johnny¡¯s character said. ¡°No refunds but I can make it thirty by tomorrow, for sure. There¡¯s wyvern racing going on and no one knows that Chuck¡¯s dragon, Tingle, can¡¯t fly straight since he¡¯s molting.¡±

    My eyes fluttered. Arguing with Johnny¡¯s autopilot was more work than avoiding a clingy ex-girlfriend. I should know since I¡¯d deleted a few characters to do exactly that.

    ¡°I¡¯ll certainly think about giving you gold if we beat this dungeon.¡± I wouldn¡¯t¡ªat all. That was mine for the bar tab. In fact I¡¯d probably harass Johnny for more of whatever the actual amount had been. ¡°But I need you to work hard to get us gold, okay?¡±

    ¡°Right! Then you can give me gold to bet on Tingle. Let¡¯s go. I¡¯ll find all the nuts. Dragon nuts are worth a lot.¡±

    I was fairly sure he¡¯d wanted to bet against Tingle a few minutes ago. It simply became proof that Johnny had been attempting to con us.

    He dashed off. I was fairly sure he¡¯d be able to handle a few basic monsters that might spawn nearby. Or maybe not. He¡¯d been playing a long time but if this were baseball, he¡¯d be third or fourth string in any dungeon. I hoped our tank, which was a fancy way of saying someone who got punched in the face so the rest of us didn¡¯t have to, was mildly competent. There was no way I¡¯d reclaim all my Friday Legacies and their associated baggage just to win one hundred and fifty gold.

    Johnny picked nuts farther away than Rose. I didn¡¯t know when she¡¯d started help but I figured she¡¯d probably get some sort of [Spot] skill if she tried hard enough. I went back to plotting out this nonsense adventure. Widow¡¯s Children had undead. [Nature] based magic generally worked well against rot, mostly by turning them into more plants. [Nature] did crap against [Fire] and [Ice] style abilities. Which almost made sense considering trees burned and winter stymied plant growth. The whole thing would be a complicated mess and once I had it figured out, some specialty class would come along and blow the whole thing up. Like a [Frozen Naturalist] who would be half a streaker and thinks ten degrees Fahrenheit was too hot.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    I couldn¡¯t figure out if that made the game extremely complex and deep, or simply versatile enough that anyone could find a niche if they wanted. I did know it made player versus player combat a mess. Wars were almost constant as people decimated each other in every Trillium game. They weren¡¯t my thing since fighting players often involved traveling away from the bar. Bar brawl, sure, war in the trenches for days on end where players fought to earn [Contribution] points with their factions? Count me out. It was a waste of time and sanity.

    That and fighting players gave real pain as feedback. Sure, we could turn it down, but that would impact the rest of the game¡¯s sensations. Turning down pain feedback would turn down sexual pleasure, drunken swaggers, and anything else. Everything went hand in hand. Higher immersion would be rewarded and punished at the same time. I could skip using the in-game map and draw scribbles on parchment for a few points. I could not use the player inventory, that let me store items in an invisible box that barely counted weight, for a few more points. Or I could not get lost and not have my hands full. I scrambled for skills to heal with, not an extra point of [Constitution] for carrying my supplies.

    Time passed while I dwelled upon the game¡¯s structure and how to abuse it to my advantage. I¡¯d come up with three solutions and could only hope the game would give me an actual spell to cast. [Lithium], the game¡¯s spell casting language, sounded stupid but worked like a charm. I only needed one healing spell to handle a low Rank dungeon. My lightning spell would fill in between fixing the group up. Knowing my luck I¡¯d have to do both to cover DapperSeed¡¯s shortcomings. The man¡¯s best skill was being a distraction and finding treasure. After all these months in-game he still hadn¡¯t figured out being sneaky, fighting tougher monsters, or how to keep money.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure we can hold anymore,¡± Rose said from behind me. I turned to find the two of them, loaded with seeds. Johnny stood next to her.

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. It¡¯ll take another hour to pop these into the ground. And¡±¡ªI sighed abruptly and shook my head¡ª¡°crud. We¡¯ve still got to travel to the other side of town. I don¡¯t know about you but running is not my forte.¡±

    My characters didn¡¯t run. They walked. They dashed. They did not sustain long term travel at high speeds. It could be a weakness but it was more about not feeling the need to rush everywhere. If age had done one thing, besides give me lots of [Knowledge], it¡¯d also made me laid back. A low health bar couldn¡¯t compare to a man bleeding out in reality, never to re-roll. Kids forgot that.

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding. You didn¡¯t figure travel time?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Johnny, how far is this place?¡±

    ¡°Twenty miles outside of town,¡± the autopilot answered.

    My eyelids fluttered again. They¡¯d picked a dungeon that would take too long to get to by walking. I could try to figure out a travel skill that might enable my laziness but none came to mind. Items like [Shadow Movement] required a few other skills first, none of which could be gained in the hours remaining. I couldn¡¯t use any warrior skills since most involved short dashes at enemies or to friends to block a blow. I could unlock Friday the 9<sup>th</sup> since he¡¯d been the escape artist, but his skills were more about ¡°I was actually over here and you didn¡¯t notice¡± and had a fancy title I¡¯d blocked out.

    ¡°We can rent a horse,¡± she suggested.

    ¡°Horses could make it. They also cost money. Never mind, I¡¯ll figure out something. First, I need to get to planting.¡±

    Traveling to a barren plot took too long. I¡¯d suggested multiple times that Rose leave and find some horses to borrow or a player who wanted to practice teleporting people. We might end up missing a leg depending on their Rank, which the game would take great delight in, but it could also save us time. I decided to skip going to an empty field and planted on the path toward the dungeon. That took another hour. A long boring hour of poking holes in the dirt, walking twenty feet, and doing it again.

    This should have been DapperSeed¡¯s job since he was inspired by Johnny Appleseed but had decided he wanted to be more snappy sounding. His clothes canceled out the possibility of dapper being an applicable adjective. He should have been DesperateSeed.

    ¡°Is that enough seeds?¡± Rose asked after about fifty holes had been dug and nuts buried. Johnny could dig them for me, but planting felt to be my job. It wouldn¡¯t make sense for the game to give me a reward if I had another person doing it. Unless it wanted to give me some stupid Path like [Overseer] or [Foreman] or [Government Supervisor].

    ¡°You guys should start running to the dungeon. You might get some stats if you go fast enough, plus have time to rest. Don¡¯t trip on anything or the game will give you a debuff.¡±

    ¡°I know how to play,¡± Rose said.

    ¡°Well then you know it¡¯ll take over an hour to run twenty-six miles.¡± Even a Rank One with lots of points in physical abilities couldn¡¯t run faster than an Olympic Athlete. ¡°You should go now.¡±

    ¡°I can make it,¡± she insisted. Rose¡¯s lips puckered in a frown.

    She was in the starter town and couldn¡¯t be more than Rank Three on any given Path. Maybe a few Rank Twos on side paths. She may know the basics but Continue Online loved temporary penalties like [Sprained Ankle] and [Concussion]. Oh well, I would plant the last dozen seeds, try one or two more things, and figure out a way to catch up without running. The best part about this game, there were alternate ways to get by the challenges.

    That also applied to my own problems with past versions of Friday. Deleting characters happened to be easier than dealing with situational drama. I came to the game world to avoid deep thought and serious thinking, not be embroiled in a long drawn out affair that poked all my sore spots.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be there?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a few tricks to try still. But yeah, I should be on time.¡±

    I figured out the answer to traveling far with minimal effort. A river ran from town toward the east somewhere. It¡¯d get us closer and we could use the last hour to travel toward the dungeon. The water was shallow enough to stand in but deep and wide enough to float along without bumping into much. It would get me clean after all that playing in the mud.

    ¡°Well I¡¯m not going to waste time. I¡¯m sure Dipper here will sucker another healer if you don¡¯t show up.¡±

    ¡°No can do! Friday¡¯s the best. He¡¯s a natural at healing. A one plus best sauce all the way. Cheap too. Give him drinks and away he goes.¡±

    I frowned briefly. Johnny¡¯s autopilot indicator had vanished, which meant this was him and not a machine imitation. I smiled and pretended none of this mattered. Johnny¡¯s quest for money might be a giant scam. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me, except Rose clearly had believed him so there must be something to it.

    ¡°He¡¯s your friend,¡± Rose said and shrugged. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Best healer ever. Saved my life more times than I care to remember.¡±

    I sighed heavily and pretended their banter wasn¡¯t about me. ¡°That¡¯s enough. You guys need to go. I¡¯m going to use a shortcut. That should give me enough time.¡±

    ¡°You know shortcuts?¡±

    My head dipped in a brief but tired nod.

    ¡°Druid thing, I think. Requires a river. Every town has one and we¡¯ve been traveling right next to the main one that runs toward the ocean. That way, I think. Well one of the sixteen. There¡¯s too many oceans in Arcadia.¡±

    [Minor Geography] knowledge demonstrated!

    The path we were on had a river. Most cities I¡¯d been at were placed along water veins of some sort. This fit with civilization development in the real world. People congregated around water sources or trading points. Video game races did as well. Except for weird creatures that didn¡¯t drink water.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to be a druid, Friday? That¡¯s new. Have you been one before?¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°Seemed like the best option.¡±

    ¡°Yeah that priest¡ª¡± His words died as I ran over and slammed a hand over his mouth. Johnny had made the mistake of getting too close to me. I mean, he¡¯d been helping by digging holes for me but that meant nothing in the face of what he¡¯d almost uttered.

    ¡°Ixnay on the priestay, or whatever.¡± Pig Latin wasn¡¯t my forte. ¡°We don¡¯t talk about any Friday but this one. Right? There¡¯s nothing but this weekend.¡±

    ¡°Meight,¡± he muttered under my hand.

    I stared at the smaller player and waited until he nodded a second time. I lifted my hand.

    ¡°Fifty gold and I¡¯ll forget all about them,¡± he said.

    My eyes rolled. He knew I didn¡¯t have money. Any gold I¡¯d kept was an accident aside from rolling the secret stash over between characters.

    ¡°You stole all my gold. You and Pile Pounder. That¡¯s how you got me into this whole thing, remember?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t steal it!¡±

    ¡°Did you show him where to find it?¡±

    ¡°I can answer that for three gold.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re all broke. So this is dumb. You two done?¡± Rose asked.

    ¡°Today,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ll see how next Friday goes. Or the one after that. We¡¯ve had this conversation before.¡±

    ¡°We have. If you want all the dirt on other Fridays just let me know. I¡¯ll cut you a deal. Twenty gold for the past lives of Friday.¡±

    ¡°There were no other Fridays. This is the only one," I insisted.

    ¡°Why do you keep doing that? Are you trying to avoid the legacy system?¡± Rose said.

    I waited a few seconds before answering with a nod.

    ¡°Really? How many Fridays haven¡¯t there been?¡± Rose said. She caught on quick but didn¡¯t understand how sneaky the system could be. Simply saying there had been other characters named Friday would give me all sorts of bonuses, mostly carried over from the prior characters, but it¡¯d also attach their backstory to this Friday.

    ¡°He¡¯s on unlucky thirteen,¡± Johnny answered for me while smiling. He held out his hands toward Rose and grasped in a clean sign for money.

    She smiled and shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re in for a surprise.¡±

    With that, she turned and ran away before I could ask what that meant. Thirteen wasn¡¯t an unlucky number, was it? I glanced up and around the area. Johnny had no answer and simply shrugged, then ran off as well.

    ¡°If you get tired, I can carry you for gold!¡± he shouted.

    I didn¡¯t stop either one of them. It seemed better to simply ignore Rose¡¯s ominous statement and get on with my own skill building. There were twelve seeds left, and only so much time before I had to meet the others. The [River Walking] skill I was about to try might work great. It might fail miserably. It might put me somewhere random but more interesting than the [Widow¡¯s Children] dungeon.

    Seeds first.

    I went toward the river bed. Not all the way in because I knew that this world might flood the waters and drown my seeds. Trees shouldn¡¯t be planted in riverbeds, but the shore outside where all the rocks, sand, and pebbles were should be fine.

    These holes went slower. I took a deep breath before each one and tried to think positive nature thoughts. Happy vibes of trees growing up strong. Those trees would become huge and drop seeds which would in turn spawn more. Some would die. Some would live. Life would go on.

    If there was one fact I understood, both in the real world and this simulated existence, it was that life continued on in some form. Pollution, humans, disasters, and anything else be dammed. Life found a way.

    I think that was the main reason I liked the idea of being a druid. Not because some could change into animals, that nonsense wasn¡¯t for me. But the idea that nature persevered despite the circumstances of life, had appeal. It gave me a strange sense of hope everything I¡¯d been through over the years had a purpose.

    I planted the last seed, and while I didn¡¯t want to admit it, I thought of my parents. My mom, vanished to who knew where, and my dad, a heart attack in his forties. It seemed so young now, in light of my own age. I didn¡¯t feel like an old man and he¡¯d died, a simple few years older than me.

    It especially felt strange to think that if I took care of myself, I¡¯d be older than him. Never mind that he¡¯d barely been a parent since Mom vanished. Never mind that we came from a long list of terrible fathers. I stuck the last seed in and hoped this simple act of planting might work out well. Even if I deleted this Friday, my thirteenth such character, something might live on.

    Never mind that. Real life needed to stay out of the game, mostly. I had to keep talking out loud to earn skills.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s better. Planting trees and hoping that means something. Staying to tend them. Going my own way?¡± I stared at the latest pile and put words to my thoughts. Because the game didn¡¯t give a crud about what we thought compared to what we did. ¡°Sometimes I wish there were real guides instead of vague windows. I mean, I get it. You want us to explore. That¡¯s the point. To earn everything that¡¯s given to us.¡±

    What had I earned so far? A lightning bolt skill. Some basic traits. Half demonstrated abilities that meant nothing. Even the [Arrogance] only meant something with my autopilot. I refused to use one. When I logged in, it was me. When I logged out, there was nothing. Though being called arrogant over saying I had a medical degree irked me fiercely.

    ¡°I really am a doctor,¡± I said then deflated. ¡°For all the good that does. A useless one. Out there, I¡¯ve been replaced by a machine. Hell I barely remember anything anymore. Stupid stuff. Bruising and blood pools. The machines tell me what everything means faster than my own memory works.¡±

    I had a machine to do everything. My former job goal had been replaced. Maybe if I¡¯d been cutting edge, or the best of the best I could have remained a doctor. Instead, I was reduced to less than a nurse in a mobile station that existed somewhere between operating rooms of old and an ambulance.

    My body heaved with a deep sigh. I came here to avoid real life. I came here to unwind. Continue Online, Advance, or Progression, any of the many Trillium games were meant for escape.

    I stared at the seed I¡¯d planted then felt sorry for it. I was using it for momentary gain then would walk off at a moment¡¯s notice. It didn¡¯t matter, I¡¯d probably end up being a shitty [Druid] too and re-roll before things got too hard.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be okay without me. Nature knows what it¡¯s doing better than I ever will. Especially in here,¡± I said.

    Nature would do its part. Life would continue with or without me. I nodded, pooled dirt over the shallow hole, and closed my eyes tightly. It wouldn¡¯t need me. Nothing did.

    Event!

    Nature versus Nurture

    You¡¯ve shown yourself suitable for the path of a [Druid]! The road is long and time is the greatest factor, but that¡¯s nature for you. While waiting, riddle yourself this, oh neophyte of the dirt; what grows faster, a tended garden, or a wild one? Is it better to plant and run, or to stay and watch over the life you ? Answering this will help you grow on the path of a [Druid]. For now, take a reward.

    [Nurture] skill demonstrated

    [Aged Fool] trait demonstrated

    [Animal Understanding] skill gained!

    [Branch of Life] spell gained!

    +2 [Depth] added

    The box didn¡¯t make me feel better. Admitting my issues with reality had granted me points I didn¡¯t want. But the game continued on and I couldn¡¯t get drunk without success.

 Session 3 â€“ A River Runs

    I checked the abilities to see if they were useful. [Branch of Life] served as a minor heal over time. It wouldn¡¯t cure scars but could sooth inflamed muscles and close wounds. The name implied that there might be higher spells named [Trunk of Life] or [Tree of Life], that kind of thing. It didn¡¯t matter. [Branch of Life] did crap in a dire situation so I¡¯d have to be careful.

    [Aged Fool] told me that I hadn¡¯t grown wiser as I grew older. That was fine. This trait, like any other traits, would only affect how Locals interacted with me. It only judged my character in-game. The real me was different.

    [Animal Understanding] did stuff with animals. I flicked it away in hopes that I¡¯d never fight a bear in the winter.

    The [Depth] increase made me scratch my head. It was like the game had enjoyed me talking about the real world. Like I wasn¡¯t a person until I admitted my flaws and personal challenges. [Depth] was a weird trait in that it helped all the other mental traits a little bit. In theory. Maybe.

    Then there was the last bit. The questionable event text that implied the challenge between nature and nurture. Was it better to leave and let the life grow on its own or stay and subject it to my own flawed abilities.

    I had no clue how to take care of a tree. There wasn¡¯t enough time to really ponder it either. I had to go to this dungeon, zap undead with lightning bolts, heal whichever people walked into traps and enemies with their faces, and get enough money to drink away my problems for the weekend.

    ¡°Right, into the water I go.¡±

    My shoes, low end items that came with the new character, were taken off and shoved into my storage space. A chill brushed across my skin causing goosebumps. Shivers raced up and down my arms as the shirt came off.

    I rubbed at the chill and smoothed arm hairs back into place. My eyes drifted to the stream. It was wide enough for a man to lay in and be carried away, but shallow enough to stand in. Even if I waded into the center it would only come up to my chest.

    There was a small outcropping that had been eroded by water. I sat on the edge and dipped my toes in. Small minnows stopped and nibbled me before letting the water carry them onward. My chest heaved with a sigh. This might not work but it was worth a shot. Though it wasn¡¯t as simple as setting an alarm and taking a nap.

    ¡°I know this river wouldn¡¯t carry me there fast enough if I just let it carry me away,¡± I said. Birds chirped. I could hear bugs of some sort in the bushes. Something fuzzy, probably a [Coo-Coo Rill] scampered up a tree much like squirrels in reality did.

    ¡°But I¡¯m going to try and let go. To go with the flow and end up where I¡¯m needed. I¡¯m counting on you to take me there.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know the river¡¯s name. It might have made a difference. Addressing landmasses by name felt like a druid thing to do. Or maybe it wasn¡¯t. Not knowing the answer was exciting in its own way.

    I did know other things. River water doesn¡¯t run faster than a person in a full out sprint. Not if it¡¯s meandering through. A gushing river brought on by waters dammed up stream can go faster for a bit, but it¡¯ll even out after a few miles.

    I didn¡¯t know the exact numbers and those shouldn¡¯t matter, since this was a video game. The whole point was shortcuts existed if a player got in the right mindset. There might even be skills I could gain to build this [Druid] path up. Three or four more abilities would give me a [Druid] Rank Two, in theory, and should provide a few bonuses.

    Rank One didn¡¯t provide anything beyond a title and treatment from the world. I mean, there was a minor percentage bonus to any magic titled [Nature] and made it so passive critters like the [Coo-Coo Rill] wouldn¡¯t try to rob me in my sleep unless I had something really valuable. There was a system box for it but I¡¯d clicked out quickly due to boredom.

    I gave bar drinks more attention than class descriptions. The boxes wouldn¡¯t do anything if I didn¡¯t use the skills or talk about my knowledge out loud. That brought me back to prepping myself for this travel technique that might not work.

    ¡°I mean, I know it¡¯s possible. I¡¯ve heard about it before. I just have to trust the river. I mean you.¡± I was in a game talking to a lifeless object. With my feet in the water. Being nibbled and tickled by fish that didn¡¯t exist.

    At that time, I stopped and realized how insane virtual reality could be. None of this was physical. None of it mattered. Yet I craved living here as an escape of my problems out there. I slapped my foot onto the water¡¯s surface and watched as the ripples scared off a dozen tiny fish.

    Being a [Druid] meant they got over the disturbance quickly and were soon back to nibbling. They didn¡¯t have teeth and were utterly harmless. My monolog continued.

    ¡°I mean, people talk when they¡¯re drunk. About secrets. About special methods of getting around. There¡¯s this one guy, swore that he could step through shadows. But only if the shadow was cast by a lantern with blue flame. But I couldn¡¯t do that, I¡¯m¡ª¡± I buttoned up then sighed. Rogues were hard for me. Sneaking and blending in with darkness simply didn¡¯t occur me. I hadn¡¯t liked darkness since I was a boy. The one character I''d snuck around on had ended badly.

    ¡°I mean they talk a lot. Another druid I knew. A celestial, said that everything in nature is connected. That it¡¯s all some big cycle. Life. Death. Water. Earth. Which is weird because there¡¯s way more elements than five but¡­¡± The game didn¡¯t want me to criticize it. There were enough angry folks out there to do that.

    I wanted to relax and enjoy myself. I needed gold to do it. Somehow the talking helped and it felt as though this might work. Which was a weird thought. I didn¡¯t have a pop-up box. I didn¡¯t have skill notifications, but almost felt like this would work. It was as though my toes tingled from more than cool water. My fingers curled into the embankment and felt almost rooted.

    ¡°Water. He said it was easiest with water. Not air. Not dirt, but water. Because we are made mostly of water.¡±

    Event!

    Distant Druid Dictates

    You¡¯ve acknowledged that your druidic know-how comes from another person. Find this person to gain important information about your Path! Or don¡¯t. Perhaps the key to learning is self-discovery.

    [Distant Mentor] notation added!

    [Druid] mentoring effect gained!

    My feet paused and held still. A branch from downstream bounced off my leg and spiraled on its way, ignoring the brief obstruction. Mentor skills were all the same. This meant that as long as I acknowledged my learning from another person out loud, I¡¯d gain skills related to that faster. It also meant they¡¯d get notes about me and a responsibility for my actions, which I didn¡¯t like.

    That was pushed aside for now. The man I¡¯d had drinks with seemed nice enough in the bar but maybe he¡¯d get me caught up in some drama. Continue Online might send some stupid Locals after me because he¡¯d pissed people off over his game¡¯s career. I¡¯d dwell on it later.

    For now, it was back to the travel spell. Could I really use nature to quick travel somewhere else on my first try? There had to be a lot of people who knew about shortcuts in traveling but most stuck to horses and teleport scrolls. They had their bind points and safe harbors to [Recall] to.

    Given how this river travel was meant to work, I could see why some avoided it. It required feelings or whatever. Emotional triggers were tough. All I had to do to travel was lay in the water and let myself cry about something deeply meaningful and super important. That''s how the story went, tears from inside me would join with the water. That would somehow join with all water. It''d sounded really profound after five beers and a lot of ranmbling.

    ¡°This is nothing. I can do this.¡± The words felt hollow. How long ago had it been since I¡¯d felt sure of anything? I shook my head. The child of years ago was gone, and I¡¯d supported myself for decades without needing to rely on others.

    But for this, I had to rely on the game and nature to help. That bothered me. It didn¡¯t matter because I had to give it a go.

    I bundled the rest of my clothes down to the drawers and tucked them into player inventory. Player inventories couldn¡¯t hold a lot and using one reduced any immersion bonus that may or may not exist, but I¡¯d rather have them dry on the other end.

    It was time to be one with nature. A digital nature which clearly didn¡¯t make sense but whatever. It¡¯d be like swimming in the sky, which I saw a video of once. Apparently with the right equipment it could be done, in reality.

    Before my mind could wander further, I bent my knees, plunged in and completely submersed. The chill from earlier felt weak compared to the freezing sensation that now swallowed me whole.

    For a moment, I remembered being out on patrol in the endless crappy deserts of the Middle East. I remembered being yanked to the hospitals of rural China on the Army bases that were set up after the war. They¡¯d both been cold. Empty dreary places.

    I felt small and lost, despite the rational part of my mind screaming that all I needed to do was put my feet down.

    My head broke the surface; my hearing became overwhelmed by the sounds of splashing water. Arms flailed. How long had it been since I¡¯d swam at all? Continue Online flashed messages in dull boxes that were lost in the uneven surface tension.

    Then I saw a face. A hazy one belonging to a long-vanished ghost. Hair, also wet, clung to transparent skin that faded almost as soon as I¡¯d noticed it. I searched for recognizable features and saw eyes that looked like mine. The woman¡¯s mouth moved but nothing came out.

    I lay there as the river pushed its way around me. The pieces and flashes of what happened replayed over and over as I spun in circles, searching for the mystery figure. Either it had been a monster, an event, or I¡¯d hallucinated the whole thing. All were possible inside this digital world.

    The features came together and spun apart. She¡¯d been wearing a blue one piece. There¡¯d been a hint of crow¡¯s feet around her eyes, but the person had to be younger than I was now. Then I realized what had happened. It was Continue Online screwing with me¡ªhard.

    ¡°Fuck you!¡± I shouted at the river while splashing wildly. My body twisted and turned in circles until I ran out of breath. Both arms felt heavy and my back hunched.

    As soon as my tantrums died the river returned to normal. What I¡¯d done meant nothing to nature. It was simply a moment that passed with a few lingering ripples left behind. Like so much of life.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± I screamed.

    That face had been my mother. At least, it might have been. We¡¯d gone swimming every weekend until she went away. She¡¯d dunked me, taught me to float on my back, and how to doggy paddle. I couldn¡¯t remember what she¡¯d used to say beyond a few flashes. Time had robbed me of the memories.

    My eyes tightened. It didn¡¯t matter anymore. If the game wanted to screw with me then so be it. I¡¯d play through this weekend and re-roll if needed. Life was that simple. A game couldn¡¯t throw me off my chosen goal. Get drunk and drown out reality.

    It seemed like a lot of bull crap to put up with for a simple drink, but in a way gaining stats and listening to Johnny try to con people served as entertainment. It wasn¡¯t real. It was all in good fun. I stood straight, brushed water off me and realized I was still mostly naked standing in the middle of a freezing stream.

    ¡°Right, back to important matters. One with nature. One with nature,¡± I repeated the words until they became a barely discernible mumble. I leaned back, letting the water take on my weight. My legs bobbed and banged against the riverbed then a chill took the feeling away. ¡°One with¡­¡±

    A druid, a good druid, could be carried where they were needed by nature. That was part of the gig, as it had been explained to me. Water would be the easiest since humans were made up of so much liquid.

    I mean, as a doctor I knew that it wasn¡¯t exactly water. That whole whatever percent figure people tossed around included blood, mucus, snot, spinal fluid, and every other bit of nonsense that made up the human body.

    Water was easiest. It was everywhere. In everything. In Locals, Travelers, monsters, underground caves, even the desert. Moisture on the moons. Continue Online was meant to be realistic, as real as a game with fireballs and dragons could be. Realistic, but a game. My mind tried to parse that bit of contradiction then I remembered this wasn¡¯t the point.

    ¡°One with¡­¡±

    Chills eventually died down as my body went through the early stages of hypothermia. My fingers felt numb and my chest a bit warmer. The brief illusion of warmth faded as my heartbeat sped up. Then I¡¯d have to pee, and it would be impossible to tell if it was in the game or real life.

    My body wasn¡¯t here. I lay back in a second hand virtual reality bed with a helmet over my skull. The realization didn¡¯t stop my heart from racing as signals from fancy technology pounded me with one of the later stages, delirium.

    ¡°One with her,¡± I mumbled.

    It¡¯d been ages since I¡¯d been with a real woman. Not a virtual one who had all their features refined to some stupid level of perfection that was almost glossy. I meant a real woman. How long had it been since I¡¯d given up dating in reality? Years. I tried to count them but came up with numbers that didn¡¯t make sense.

    My mind drifted further away until it felt like a detached creature with a separate thought process than the real me. The thoughts were disconnected bits of nonsense because nothing felt right. I¡¯d sat in that river, or maybe I was still in it, for too long. I¡¯d been trying to travel in the game to somewhere near. Somewhere I would be useful. That¡¯s how druids transported.

    They went where they were needed. That¡¯s what I¡¯d been told. That¡¯s what I¡¯d trusted the game to do.

    A fresh cool breeze brushed across my arms. Goosebumps puckered skin and one arm jerked abruptly. A freeing sensation had replaced the thick restriction of water. All four limbs flailed as feeling started to return. Air pelted me and flattened my cheeks.

    I almost found the strength to suck in air but failed. I moved too fast and my body still tingled from the remaining numbness. Which might have been for the best, because when my eyes opened, I was falling toward the ground at high speeds.

    My mind reeled through a dozen questions. How had I gotten into the sky in the first place? What sort of spell was this? How bad would the game¡¯s pain feedback be?

    Then I hit. My body squished and flattened. Every muscle tightened. Arms pushed out and I found myself rapidly lifting off the ground into a standing position.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Legs wobbled. My eyes were wide and heartbeat loud. It was damn cold. Not simply a chill from sky diving without clothes or going for a ride in a river. I mean, it was the without clothes part.

    My arms wrapped around my chest as I tried to defeat the bumps on my skin. My nipples could have cut glass. There were system messages, but my eyesight had blurred. It annoyed me that the game chose to apply poor eyesight to game messages. Other times the system messages were the only thing visible. It was like the game went out of its way to remind of me that none of this was real, but it was close.

    I fumbled for clothes and tilted my head to one side. Water slowly poured out an ear canal and by the time I¡¯d put my pants on, my ears were clear of water. My hair clung in strings. This character needed a haircut but being in the service had made me like longer hair.

    ¡°How much gold did you get for that?¡± a male asked.

    People laughed. Lots of people. I knew I wasn¡¯t alone and decided to retain a little bit of pride by standing up straight, righting my pants, then turning around with a hopefully charming smile.

    ¡°The show¡¯s free, but I charge for a test drive.¡± It almost made sense and caused another round of laughter.

    Twenty people stood nearby. I felt amazed that I hadn¡¯t seen them on the way down but attributed it to the weirdness of traveling by water.

    ¡°What spell was that?¡± Rose asked.

    She sat on a chair. There were chairs. I took in the scene again and tried to really understand where this whole gathering had started. I¡¯d been all over the game world but Continue Online had too many different hide-y-holes tucked away. A hundred people could play for weeks in the same zone and never run into each other unless they wanted to.

    We were outside a run-down manor. A large brick wall ran left to right separating us from the looming building in the background. It had to be a few miles away and still stood large. It might have been a trick of the game¡¯s perception, or maybe ten Hollywood moguls had gotten together and bought a mansion big enough for them and all their adopted children and their children. Which seemed more likely given the name of the instance.

    ¡°Arcadia to Friday,¡± someone said.

    It was the same male voice from earlier. I glanced down and blinked a few more times. DapperSeed stood nearby with Rose and another wall of muscle next to him. These crappy chairs must have been robbed from a servant¡¯s quarters.

    ¡°Where did the chairs come from?¡± I asked.

    ¡°What spell was that?¡± Rose countered.

    ¡°Druid¡­¡± I faded off and finally took note of the system messages that had piled up. There were a lot and my own personal choices made Continue Online remove all but the highlights.

    ¡°Druid fast travel spell. Natural Water Ways,¡± I said. A finger thumbed away the spell and floated down to the text below. I¡¯d be at reduced mana for an hour. Then I¡¯d actually regenerate mana faster when partially submerged, as a result of the new affinity with water. But that mana could only be used on nature spells.

    ¡°You guys got a druid? They¡¯re such shit at low Ranks,¡± someone from one of the other parties said. ¡°Easier for us I guess. We got a paladin.¡±

    ¡°A Rank One paladin. He¡¯s barely a warrior or a priest. I mean, seriously?¡± someone else countered. ¡°Plus I saw him. He couldn¡¯t cast a heal to save his own life, much less yours.¡±

    I turned to glance at the others. Everyone wore cruddy new player gear. The person who¡¯d been insulting the paladin seemed to be a priest, judging by the robe and staff adorned with a crystal. It could have been a mage, they were generally pompous jerks as well. Or pyromaniacs. Or whatever the frozen arcane missiles of doom versions were called. Frostmaniacs.

    Johnny hopped on his short feet. A tall and far too handsome guy loomed over him with a long handled maul slung over one shoulder. As if real construction workers were dashing in crappy low-level clothes.

    ¡°Friday,¡± DapperSeed said. ¡°Did you bring the money?¡±

    Johnny asking for gold before I¡¯d gotten my shirt on was a bit much. It was my second day with this character and I¡¯d managed to get two real spells, a Path, make it out of town, use a travel spell, and he was pestering me for money. If I¡¯d decided to be a warrior, it would have taken longer to get out of town. No one gave warriors weapons, they had to earn anything more complex than a broom, and even those cost money.

    Staying in town might have been better. My eyes closed as I counted to ten.

    ¡°No. You took all my money with Pile Driver, remember?¡±

    ¡°That was yours?¡± the looming man with a maul asked. ¡°Oh Voices, you guys are absolutely screwed. This guy¡¯s got nothing. No gold. No gear. And he¡¯s a druid!¡± Pile Driver, I think, poked a finger at the top of DapperSeed¡¯s head. ¡°Your gold¡¯s as good as ours. You should have brought a priest like I did.¡±

    A third guy stood next to the priest and they both smirked. Either their characters were related or they were in real life. Both had the same eyes, same grin, same smug stance. Their third member was tall, thin, with no muscles on his chest and everything in his arms. It was a weird look, but I¡¯d bet he was a melee master of some sort. They got fancy Paths like Pugilist, Boxer, or Monk, or whatever.

    ¡°The gold¡¯s not yours yet. We¡¯ve all paid into the pool. Any one of us could win,¡± one of the other twenty said. There were too many people here for me to sort them all out and my vision hadn¡¯t completely cleared.

    ¡°Sure, sure. You and the mousy mage behind you might win.¡± Pile Driver waved off the man in one of the other parties. ¡°But we all did the math. A full party can¡¯t be more than Fifteen Ranks. My group¡¯s four just like it shows on the betting crystals. These guys are like two and three each.¡± The man laughed sharply then pointed at us, ¡°Hell, Dapper¡¯s party isn¡¯t even ten total, unless you count his absolute mess of a character with all it¡¯s weird single rank paths.¡±

    That made me blink for a moment as I tried to catch up. There¡¯d clearly been a lot of conversation before I got here and at least Pile Driver cleared up some of the confusion. They¡¯d apparently set a bet upon doing the most damage to monsters in this instance. They¡¯d put a cap on who could come by Rank in Paths. Newbies rarely had many Paths so my Rank Two, which had somehow been triggered by semi-drowning myself, druid counted a little bit. The others would have Rank Three or Four in something. DapperSeed had a lot of stuff at Rank Two or Three, probably more than Pile Driver knew or could tell. Honestly, he¡¯d called me a ringer because I¡¯d played so many characters, but Johnny¡¯s abilities were pretty numerous.

    ¡°Whatever. Bet was Fifteen Ranks cap. We¡¯re all under the wire. We¡¯re using the jewels to keep track. Whoever comes out on top at the end of gets the pot. Are we still doing only four hours or going until sunrise?¡±

    ¡°Sunrise might be better.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have that much time.¡±

    There were too many people talking so I focused on something simple. I still couldn¡¯t get over the chairs. Someone must¡¯ve gone into the mansion, stolen two dozen chairs, and brought them out here. They all leaned against the wall. I could tell someone had tried to build an overhead to keep rain off them. There were signs of a stolen carpet that nature reclaimed by growing over it with weeds. I scanned the side, this might have been a porch for people to wait at. Maybe a medieval bus stop.

    ¡°So, four hour time limit. Points for each monster killed. We¡¯re using tracking stones,¡± Johnny said while nodding.

    ¡°Damn right we are. None of your cheap tricks, DipperDweeb,¡± Pile Driver cut off my short friend.

    ¡°What about pee vee pee,¡± someone asked. I blinked and ran that through my mental internet lingo decoder. They were talking about players fighting each other. We could do that, and it would probably be a mess. Hunting down and somehow killing Pile Driver wouldn¡¯t get me my staff back soon enough for a beer.

    Johnny nodded. ¡°There¡¯s five wings to the mansion. Travelers can fight each other if they want but there¡¯s no points for it. I¡¯m not a fighter, unless you pay me.¡±

    The person asking about player versus player combat belonged to a group made up of one guy and three girls. They huddled together wearing dilapidated cloaks and face paint.

    ¡°An entire party of rogues, disgusting,¡± Rose muttered. I didn¡¯t think she got the irony of her statement but the words were almost covered up by DapperSeed going over the rules.

    ¡°The pot¡¯s fifty gold per party. Winner takes all.¡±

    That mention caused another party to start babbling at each other.

    ¡°Seems easier to gamble,¡± a person said.

    To which his friend replied, ¡°But this is more fun. We gamble, get skills, fight each other. I mean what¡¯s the point of playing if all you¡¯re going to do is gamble? It¡¯d be easier to get a slots program and go to town. Have you seen the altered reality glasses they have now? Makes them a show.¡±

    ¡°Really? Then I¡¯d rather go to a real casino,¡± another responded.

    ¡°Yeah but we can do high stakes in here. Poison drinks randomly. Russian roulette, then what, we come back in a day? Plus we get to murder undead monsters! And we¡¯re already here.¡±

    Their conversation continued, and I yawned. Their group sounded like children. Technically they were closer to twenty. They had a general ignorance that came from people who hadn¡¯t seen much of the world.

    They were right and wrong in my opinion. Continue Online¡¯s sense of realism was beyond any mere program. That was the point of playing these games. Otherwise I¡¯d download virtual porn and a bar then play all I wanted with pretend money. There were all sorts of programs out there on the internet that could fill any need.

    But none of them felt as good. The only thing better was actual reality. If only I had a bit of self-control or didn¡¯t have so much trash in my head I wanted to wash away.

    My body shook. A sign that I should be wearing a shirt at the least. I put the ragged top on and felt strangely refreshed. It was like swimming in a pool then coming out heaving and panting but elated. The perception was a trick caused by digital endorphins.

    The groups separated out. Most of their conversation I¡¯d missed during my musings and study of the surroundings. It should have been the standard ¡°we¡¯ll beat you losers¡± banter followed by trash talking. The games had changed but the mentality of college aged people hadn¡¯t. Chest thumping, that¡¯s what it amounted to. Even the girls talked trash.

    I¡¯d seen it in the military. I¡¯d seen it in school after that. Maybe being raised by a single father who¡¯d spent most of my life checked out warped my own views, but it was too late to change all that now. I was who I was.

    ¡°Did you get a spell?¡± Johnny whispered. ¡°I can¡¯t heal. None of my Paths are good at it.¡± He¡¯d grown closer, along with our other two companions. They¡¯d moved into some half-formed huddle to discuss strategy and I¡¯d been too busy mentally sighing. Bars were better than this grouping thing. I¡¯d once been in a raid of some two hundred people and hated every minute of it.

    ¡°He appeared out of a water cloud. I mean, that screams Druid to me. He has to have a healing spell. It¡¯s a staple.¡± Rose shook her head and fiddled with an item that might have been a kitchen knife at one point. Layers of animal hide around the handle implied entry level [Tinkering] skills.

    ¡°He can¡¯t heal without something. I mean, bandages only go so far,¡± the granite colored wall of muscle said. He loomed over everyone, making Johnny seem even shorter in comparison. All that mass probably came with passive bonuses to [Brawn] and [Toughness] but might reduce his [Limberness]. ¡°Though I have maybe a dozen. They¡¯ll fix bleeds and, maybe I can do a splint. It¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve had to make one.¡±

    It¡¯d been ages since I had to make one too, but that was reality and not the game.

    ¡°Friday?¡± Johnny asked.

    I stopped trying to gauge their skills and answered the question with a nod. ¡°I did, but only one. A heal over time. Should work. I don¡¯t even have to chant lithium.¡± The game¡¯s spells weren¡¯t too bad. Most spells on a [Mage] style path could be spoken in poetic gibberish, or whatever. Priests said prayers in perfect English. Druids didn¡¯t.

    ¡°How does it work?¡± Johnny asked. ¡°I¡¯ve never met a low-level druid. That¡¯s what you were planting all those seeds for right?¡± His head shook quickly. ¡°I saw the event messages. Did you really get me naked? Jesus. My dignity. That¡¯ll be ten gold.¡±

    Johnny¡¯s character had the best gear out of all of us. That didn¡¯t mean much since it was clearly worn by age. The leather clothes he wore had no tears or signs of being cobbled together out of a thrift store, it was simply faded. He also had no weapons. Though I knew Johnny kept an endless trail of string and coat hangers. Most of his tricks involved a combination of the two.

    I went back to his question. ¡°Getting you naked helped. I got a medic skill which should compound a little with the heal. The spell¡¯s a touch, well, a rune.¡± I reviewed the spell text. [Branch of Life] functioned like [Tiny Lightning Bolt]. Both required me to draw a symbol in the air with my fingers. This one seemed to be tracing a tree outline like a constellation then pressing on the top branches, which made sense given the spell name.

    A higher spell should finish closer to the middle. It¡¯d take more mana, which I was running low on due to the teleportation by river to raincloud. Also a higher level spell would have a more detailed rune. It¡¯d help to try it out and see what happened, but it¡¯d be better to wait until the other groups were gone.

    My lack of experience with the [Druid] spells didn¡¯t bother me. Being thrown into a dungeon scenario with it might be bad for normal people but I¡¯d been around the block with so many characters now that it shouldn¡¯t be a problem. Maybe three or four seconds the first few times plus I¡¯d get bigger skill bumps for working under adverse conditions, up to a point anyway.

    ¡°Anything else?¡± Johnny asked. ¡°You had something from drinking last weekend, right? I mean, it was Friday. Is. You are,¡± his words sputtered. Johnny had found this character earlier today, but he knew me well enough to suspect the first thing I¡¯d done was something stupid that resulted in a bump from the machine.

    I rolled my eyes and smiled. Drunkenly arguing with a storm from a building top had given me a spell, and an affinity. There were two now. One for water, one for lightning, and if I got three more I could form a [Mega Druid] or whatever.

    ¡°A lightning bolt, minor. Has a stun that should work on small stuff, and ghosts, if there are any. Energy I guess.¡± I studied that spell too. ¡°Looks like it has a polarization factor, so it¡¯ll curve toward the ground or solid objects. Should go for walls and the floor, not ceilings, I think.¡±

    Rose shook her head. ¡°Lightning magic is hard to use. Metal rods screw it up, any of us using metal?¡± The men shook their heads. ¡°I¡¯d rather we had some flame for the shufflers. Or energy. Ice. Those have nature versions, right?¡±

    I shrugged. My understanding of a druid was based on drunken conversations and a few hours of playing. As long as no one asked me to turn into a bear everything would be fine. Shapeshifting made my stomach twist into knots. I¡¯d tried it once on a mage.

    ¡°And I have enough brawn to fight off a fleet of kindergarteners.¡± I checked my stats and sighed. ¡°Though reaction¡¯s a bit sluggish. It should improve after a few dozen heals and bolts. At least to about twenty, after that it¡¯ll slow down.¡±

    ¡°Twenty¡¯s pretty high,¡± DapperSeed said. ¡°Mine was at twenty once. Now it¡¯s at fifteen.¡±

    ¡°Only because you keep dying and losing points,¡± I responded. Fifteen meant nothing at higher Ranks, but we were in a low-end area.

    Before he could get upset I turned to Rose. ¡°What¡¯s your role?¡±

    ¡°I can handle melee,¡± Rose insisted. ¡°And StoneMason can tank.¡±

    StoneMason lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his head. There was a grating sound like a broom over asphalt. He gave a brief goofy smile.

    ¡°I¡¯m a newb tank though,¡± he said. ¡°But I have a high Brawn for this Rank and took on the wolves outside of town easily enough.¡±

    ¡°The wolves scale so it doesn¡¯t mean anything,¡± Rose responded with a frown almost as big as the hulk¡¯s smile. ¡°Though everything does, so it¡¯s more about fitting together. If you can really heal, and I can handle melee damage, and probably tank lighter stuff. Either way, we¡¯ve got a good start. DapperSeed, you¡¯re a scout?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m really good at finding traps and treasure.¡±

    ¡°He usually finds the traps with his face,¡± I added. ¡°He¡¯s half a cockroach though. The guy survives almost anything. It¡¯s insane.¡±

    Johnny beamed. ¡°Friday would know. He¡¯s patched¡­¡± his words died off as my head snapped sharply toward him. He was about to spill the fact of my other Fridays aloud and that¡¯d bring drama I didn¡¯t want.

    Maybe it was paranoia. The [Legacy] system seemed to trigger off other players talking directly about old characters. It went faster if I talked about them by name. I swear I¡¯d had some of them link together simply by thinking about my prior character, but that happened less as I started over more.

    DapperSeed got the message quick and nodded. ¡°Right. We don¡¯t talk about the others.¡±

    ¡°Others?¡± StoneMason asked. He sounded as young as Rose. His weird mix of features made it hard to tell an actual age. Giant-size and bent shoulders coupled with a gruff voice to imply immense age. His goofy slack jawed face threw all that out the window and brought him closer to a child in a hulk¡¯s body.

    ¡°Fridays. We don¡¯t talk about them,¡± DapperSeed said and grinned wide enough to show two rows of oversized mangled teeth.

    ¡°There¡¯s one every week,¡± StoneMason said.

    ¡°He¡¯s avoiding the legacy system,¡± Rose clarified.

    ¡°Oh,¡± StoneMason said and nodded. ¡°Makes sense. Old characters come with baggage. Lots and lots of baggage.¡± Even his slow bobbing head made him seem dimwitted. Obviously, he had a decent brain since he¡¯d caught on fast.

    ¡°Great. See, we can do this. You¡¯re all people who¡¯ve played other virtual games, with high end experience.¡± Johnny rubbed his hands together and continued, ¡°All that gold will soon be ours.¡±

    We¡¯d all restarted characters, sure, but the other parties could be re-rolls, have tricks, have scouted this place out or had extra quests that might pull monsters to them. The bet being so loose made no sense to me, but whatever plan Johnny had, we¡¯d probably come out slightly ahead.

    ¡°How much gold was it?¡± Rose asked.

    ¡°At least five,¡± I answered. ¡°Hard to tell with Johny. Money¡¯s constantly in flux.¡±

    ¡°It was five. Which I can make into fifty, if you pay me now,¡± Johnny responded. He smiled and there was a literal gleam in his eye that told me either was either screwing with us or he was dreaming of striking it rich.

    ¡°I like gold,¡± StoneMason said.

    ¡°Who doesn¡¯t?¡± Johny responded quickly. ¡°And stick with me. There¡¯s plenty to be had.¡±

    ¡°No. Don¡¯t give any to DapperSeed or you¡¯ll be broke,¡± Rose warned.

    Johnny snorted and glanced at his wrist. Nothing was on it, but he nodded like he¡¯d seen the time. I wondered who in this world or the real one still used wrist watches. They¡¯d gone out of style when I was a kid.

    The other parties were already moving. I turned away from our huddle to watch them leave in packs. It was oddly orderly for a bunch of people betting against each other.

    Pile Driver¡¯s group was the last to leave, aside from us. He cupped his hands and shouted, ¡°Time to go. See you losers inside!¡±

    I thought back to the exchange when Johnny had been explaining the rules. He¡¯d asked me for money then somehow my mind had wandered off topic. ¡°Did anyone actually give him the gold?¡± I asked.

    Johnny chuckled.

    ¡°Nope,¡± Rose answered. Then her head cocked to one side. ¡°How did they all overlook that?¡±

    Johnny chuckled some more and scuttled off, through the large archway onto the manor grounds belonging to the [Widow¡¯s Children] dungeon. Which was above ground and a manor. The term dungeon felt like a misnomer, but a generation of video games meant the label stuck.

    ¡°Maybe he¡¯s got a distraction trait,¡± StoneMason said and lumbered onward. That was the problem with giant characters, no matter how they moved, it always seemed like lumbering.

    ¡°He does. You should check your gold,¡± I suggested to Rose.

    She paused, put up a finger and touched the space in front of her. Rose¡¯s eyebrows tightened then she patted a pocket.

    ¡°How the hell?¡± Rose¡¯s face went through half a dozen different expressions. I took a moment and checked my own gold. It was all still there. By the time I looked away, Rose had run off after the other two, cursing the whole way.

    This time I laughed. StoneMason had been right, Johnny did have a weird mix of skills that any real rogue would be envious of. Somehow, he managed to distract people by asking for gold, and often ended up with their gold despite them saying no. It was never large amounts, petty thievery or something. I¡¯d never figured out the skill or trick to it.

    Johnny had many flaws, but he didn¡¯t use his abilities on me. He never had. I wasn¡¯t sure what that said about our relationship.

    I ambled after the others. That¡¯s what normal people did. Amble.

 Session 4 â€“ Testy Team

    By the time I caught up, Rose had her kitchen knives out, ready, and aimed at DapperSeed. The not-a-hobbit smiled happily like he wasn¡¯t about to be stabbed by a woman for the umpteenth time.

    ¡°Where¡¯s my gold?¡± she demanded.

    We were maybe forty feet into the courtyard. No monsters had tried to murder us. I stared at the grass and wondered if there were secret [Druid] powers to summon plants against the potential zombies. If there were, they were not triggered by thought alone.

    Thinking about plants murdering undead served as a slightly better distraction than watching yet another person be tricked by Johnny.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m going to triple it by tomorrow morning. Quintuple! Maybe more.¡±

    ¡°Guys,¡± StoneMason said.

    I waved my fingers and hummed. The grass did not respond. My face twisted in a frown and I went about setting up my interface. We¡¯d walked in as a group so the system automatically put us in a party. There were bars to one side. I could play without them but honestly, I¡¯d never understood the point of turning the whole interface off. Especially as a healer.

    It wasn¡¯t like real life where I needed to analyze where someone got hurt. Sure, I could poke and probe, and would to better healing. The bars were more about being preemptive.

    ¡°I want my gold now.¡± Rose inched closer to DapperSeed. My drifting gaze took note of everyone¡¯s feet.

    ¡°Where are your shoes?¡± I asked abruptly and did a double take. They were all without footwear. ¡°Why does no one wear shoes?¡±

    ¡°Where are your shoes?¡± Rose countered.

    She was right. I hadn¡¯t put my shoes back on yet. The earth felt strangely comfortable but cold. I looked up and noticed Rose¡¯s gaze had shifted away from DapperSeed altogether. My tiny friend looked left, right, took a few steps back and paused.

    ¡°Guys,¡± StoneMason said. His large arm waved from my peripherals.

    ¡°Giving me flack over shoes when you¡¯re also barefoot. That¡¯s stupid,¡± Rose continued. Her comment distracted me from looking at whatever had StoneMason¡¯s attention.

    ¡°I took mine off for a spell,¡± I defended with logic. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to show up with soggy shoes. And it helps me get closer to nature.¡±

    Event!

    Dirty, Dirty Druid

    Your [Druid] Path grows! You¡¯ve learned that maintaining a physical connection to nature is about more than simply breathing the air. It¡¯s about feeling the earth with your very soul. Or soles. Never mind that your underwear is still wet.

    Either way, shoes are for those annoying city dwellers. Real [Druid]s go bearfoot.

    [Natural Vibe] skill gained

    [Grubby] trait demonstrated

    + 2 [Toughness]

    [Bearfoot] skill gained!

    [Bearfoot] ¨C a skill that implies you have tough feet. As this grows it may turn into actual bear feet! With claws and thick soles. For now, you¡¯ll just have hairier toes. No one will notice.

    I waved away the message and went back to Rose¡¯s counter argument. ¡°But my missing shoes doesn¡¯t explain why you¡¯re missing shoes. Rogues need shoes. For butt kicking.¡±

    ¡°Guys,¡± StoneMason repeated.

    Rose frowned at me and glanced at her own feet. ¡°They broke while running here. Completely torn to shreds. We¡¯re going inside so it should be fine, and you can heal anything that¡¯s almost dead.¡±

    ¡°You should put on bandages Stony? You had some?¡±

    He didn¡¯t respond to my question. I moved on.

    ¡°We can make our own too. I can give you a shirt, or we can use a curtain. Maybe some cushions,¡± I said. We were headed into a building that was probably rotted with time. It¡¯d be a wreck if the floorboards snapped and tore up her feet and everything else. There was no way I¡¯d want to heal a reoccurring bit of damage because Rose couldn¡¯t put on something more durable.

    DapperSeed took another few steps back. I ignored his slow escape without worry. He wanted money, so he¡¯d catch up eventually, and mark traps, monsters, everything. We¡¯d see him when least expected. DapperSeed couldn¡¯t stay alive because he happily took money for getting himself killed during heists, not because he couldn¡¯t think clearly.

    ¡°Mobs! Undead dogs,¡± StoneMason said seconds before a series of gargled barks filled the air.

    Rose and I both glanced over in time to see a small pack of ugly rotting corpses running in our direction. StoneMason¡¯s arms lifted as an object materialized.

    ¡°Say that earlier!¡± Rose responded. She turned away from me and brandished her knives with the air of a woman whose stabbed monsters for years. Which, given kids today, might be accurate.

    I glanced at my hands, the mana bar, our group¡¯s health, and nodded. I¡¯d been helping save real lives for years. Virtual bodies weren¡¯t nearly as stressful to heal but now would be a perfect time to test these spells. We¡¯d also get to see if StoneMason could hold the monsters¡¯ attention.

    His arms were wrapped around a tree trunk. He twisted, leveraging sheer [Brawn] against the weight of his makeshift weapon. There was a rustle as branches snapped.

    Two undead dogs disappeared into the branches with muffled yelps. DapperSeed¡¯s eyes widened and he threw himself to the ground without even turning around.

    ¡°Seriously!¡± Rose shouted as the weapon careened for her. StoneMason¡¯s face pulled back, making him look like a cry baby while his body continued to spin. My stomach knotted as the tree continued a smooth arc toward me.

    Lightning wouldn¡¯t work on a tree but it¡¯d work on StoneMason. My cast wouldn¡¯t go off before he finished swinging. I took a page from DapperSeed¡¯s book and threw myself on the ground.

    The uprooted tree continued in a full circle before skidding along the ground and halting. Two more yelps signaled the death of the dogs. I propped myself up with an arm and glanced around.

    That final swirl knocked Rose back along the ground, destroyed the attackers, and left torn up piles of dirt that unearthed disgusting writhing bugs. They weren¡¯t attacking so I pretended not to see them.

    Rose groaned then managed to get herself up. ¡°That¡¯s it? We¡¯re clear?¡±

    StoneMason nodded but Rose couldn¡¯t have seen it, so she asked again, ¡°Is everything dead already?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but they were undead. They take extra damage from nature and blunt.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you used a tree?¡± Rose asked. She stumbled toward me with a stiff leg. I blinked, stared at her bar, and pushed myself up. It was time to do my job and heal someone.

    StoneMason nodded while I frowned at Rose¡¯s body. She lifted a hand like a visor and glared across the distance then lowered her hand. Her chest heaved a sigh and her face twisted in brief pain. From the way she postured she¡¯d probably broken a virtual rib, or at least suffered serious damage on one side.

    Her mouth opened, and a second flash of mild agony crossed her features. I sighed and moved closer.

    ¡°Hold still. I want to use the spell right over the damaged part,¡± I said.

    ¡°You can¡¯t just heal me?¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°I could, but it might ache for the rest of the night. Spells work better if they¡¯re targeted. Healing doubly so. It releases where I cast. That¡¯s why it¡¯s a touch spell.¡±

    I would also get an increase to [Basic Medic] and anything else related to healing. Nothing huge, though Continue Online gave bigger bonuses for first encounters and dire situations. If a leg had blown off, in-game, then I could stay composed and work on stitching her together. In the end she¡¯d either be sent to twenty-four-hour lockout from dying or be alive and I¡¯d have a bunch of skill bonuses.

    Rose winced when I pressed the sore spot. My fingers lightly traced the radius of her wound. It was hard to identify the extent under her two shirts and leather chest piece, but it was probably bruised and not fractured. The fact that she could walk and breathe were fair clues.

    I looked up. Rose¡¯s eyes watered but she glared straight at me. Determination lay in those eyes. Strength I rarely saw from those in pain. I tried to remember if I¡¯d ever seen eyes like those before. A bit downturned at the edges but with a hint of blue like mine.

    ¡°Got it, hold on,¡± I said. One hand traced the rune. The other kept me on target. A glowing green marker trailed after my fingertips as I followed the curves and dots in the spell formula.

    Finally, my pointer finger landed on the top branch and the piece flared almost neon green before fading away. Her health bar slowly increased. It stopped briefly before reaching maximum, with a small block knocked off. She¡¯d probably be unable to reach perfect health without time or a better healing spell.

    Rose pushed back and stood straight, gasping in relief. I turned to StoneMason and started the lecture. Any seasoned player should have known better and clearly StoneMason wasn¡¯t as good as he thought, or simply hadn¡¯t been thinking about group members.

    ¡°You can¡¯t keep using that move, especially if we go inside,¡± I said. ¡°Any move like that. Pick a smaller stick. Don¡¯t spin around. Area of effect abilities are dangerous.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think,¡± StoneMason started.

    My hand went up. ¡°I know. Everyone forgets friendly fire is a thing and we¡¯re learning new classes. That¡¯s fine, but Johnny had the right idea when he was checking my abilities. We need to know what everyone is able to do.¡±

    Of course, Johnny hadn¡¯t finished asking everyone about their skills. There were probably a few reasons, but some of it was Johnny getting distracted and distracting others. His abilities turned people into goldfish.

    ¡°The tree¡¯s a good weapon though, but maybe a smaller one.¡± I didn¡¯t know player inventory could hold an uprooted tree. Our secret stashes typically didn¡¯t store living anythings, with a few exceptions. Trees could be considered living if they were replanted soon enough, or at least, so I¡¯d thought. Maybe finding out would increase my [Druid] skills.

    ¡°I have others,¡± he said. ¡°That was the biggest. Thought I¡¯d have to handle them all on my own.¡±

    I nodded. That made sense because none of us had responded to him. I¡¯d blame that one on Johnny but really it¡¯d been my own fault too. I didn¡¯t play with groups often and my last two Friday characters weren¡¯t heavy into combat.

    ¡°Use them for weight training. It¡¯ll help your brawn, but when we¡¯re fighting, something smaller. Size appropriate, okay?¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± he said.

    Rose snorted. ¡°Leave it to a guy to think bigger is better,¡± she said.

    ¡°Youth does that. Eventually you learn there¡¯s a different tool for every situation,¡± I responded with half a thought. Then I realized Rose hadn¡¯t been talking about weapons. My shoulders lifted. It didn¡¯t matter, my response applied to pretty much any version of that conversation.

    Rose found it funny. StoneMason did the awkward bashful thing that young kids do. I remembered being ignorant once upon a time and shook my head.

    ¡°Where¡¯s¡ª¡± Rose started.

    ¡°Gone. Johnny should, if he does what he normally does, be scouting ahead. He¡¯ll mark traps, monsters, and everything else for us. But you won¡¯t see much of him unless there¡¯s a lot of gold or we somehow find treasure before him.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Stonemason said. ¡°He¡¯s one of those sorts.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a bit of a thief, a bit of a conman, and a really bad gambler.¡± Johnny had other strengths too, but they were all in the same vein. The one thing he didn¡¯t do well was direct confrontation. ¡°The best way to put it, if you can picture a task that involves scuttling around, Johnny¡¯s the man. At least until you get to Rank Six or Seven stuff.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°I thought I mentioned it, but he dies too many times to build higher skills. Instead he¡¯s got a lot of really low-level ones with all sorts of weird quirks. Like distracting people and taking their gold.¡±

    ¡°That little¡­¡± Rose¡¯s words trailed off and she stomped a foot. She brought her knives out and started hacking away at the branches on StoneMason¡¯s discarded tree. She¡¯d get an entry level [Woodworking] skill if she kept it up, but it¡¯d also take a good portion of our dungeon running time.

    ¡°See? You¡¯d forgotten about it until I brought it up. It¡¯s one of his skills.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like mind control,¡± StoneMason said. ¡°I don¡¯t like that.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°Okay.¡± Complaining about mind control, while thoughts were beamed into our heads, seemed hypocritical.

    I flipped through my interface, brought up two items and set them to the side. One was our counter for the dead monsters. Johnny must have had that magical do-all party crystal in his inventory, but since we¡¯d been put into a group the results displayed for everyone. Our undead dogs showed up on the tracker. Our collective group ranks and people still alive showed as well.

    I¡¯d never really considered the effort someone put into making a magical item like these crystals. Someone had sat down and developed an item that tracked all those items, then made it an item that could be carried. I shrugged, it wasn¡¯t something I knew a lot about either way.

    The other display was more important. A map of the local area. I¡¯d never been here on any characters so most of my map was pitch black. A vague outline of the manor displayed because of my earlier gaze across the courtyard.

    It¡¯d be easier if I had a real [Cartographer] skill. [Cartographer]s could add stuff to their map by simply walking around. They¡¯d get extra information regarding special items in the room, secret doorways, perfectly drawn walls, quest locations, and pretty much anything of note. This character wouldn¡¯t be around long enough to get any explorer skills or Paths.

    While my own skill was nonexistent, Johnny¡¯s skill had reached the higher end of what weaker players could achieve. Plus, he had enough experience to add notes to the map. Anything his skill didn¡¯t automatically note, Johnny would type in. Even now, I could see results.

    ¡°There, map¡¯s already being filled in. Looks like Johnny went straight for the bedrooms.¡± I pointed toward the manor in the distance. One of the windows lay open, waiting for us to follow if we dared.

    ¡°Why there?¡± StoneMason asked.

    ¡°He¡¯s a thief. This is a mansion. There¡¯s jewelry in the bedrooms,¡± Rose answered for me. ¡°And what¡¯s this? Look, he¡¯s actually keeping a tab for every note he adds. Seriously, finding a trap costs two gold?¡±

    I checked the note. Sure enough, there was a trap in the bed, of what sort I couldn¡¯t tell. Johnny left a note that read [Trap ??? 2 gold].

    ¡°Ignore it, and let¡¯s go before more dogs spawn and Stoned here knocks us all out.¡± I reconsidered our goal. Murdering monsters would work in our favor but being out in the open wouldn¡¯t generate as many enemies. Fields, in my experience, came with less foes to fight. Indoors, tunnels, abandoned buildings, those were either full of little monsters, or home to one big angry one.

    ¡°It¡¯s StoneMason. Stone. Mason. You know what a mason is, right?¡± StoneMason frowned.

    ¡°Sure. My great grandpa was one of the last masons. They were a sort of secret order. Or so¡ª¡± I sighed and cut myself off. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Come on. No monsters murdered, no money.¡± There were a few more minor packs in the distance. One near a tall tree that had been a center piece to some bit of faded topography.

    ¡°They make buildings,¡± StoneMason said. He followed me jabbing a palm with his fingers. As if that somehow emphasized his point.

    Rose stopped hacking at the makeshift weapon StoneMason had uprooted. Most of her ire had died out during that brief flare. She seemed tired, both mentally and physically. Low stats may have been working against her, or she might have been putting up a mask to keep real life issues separate from the game world.

    She pointed. ¡°There. He¡¯s marked a patrol on the map. Let¡¯s go for that next. Then toward the building and see if DapperSeed left us anything of value. Maybe we can break even tonight even if we lose the bet.¡± Rose went toward one of the monster patrols between us and the house.

    I stared across the way then returned my attention to the map. The detail filled in a bit and I could see the note she¡¯d mentioned. DapperSeed was moving quickly through the house and seemed to be noting outside objects from the windows as he passed by. StoneMason and I nodded then followed Rose.

    StoneMason jogged a bit faster to get in front of the group. He pulled out a smaller stick that might have been pried off a barstool.

    Thinking about barstools made me miss my healing staff. That had been the key to a grand scheme going back a few Fridays and the weapon was missing in action. DapperSeed had promised to help me get it back. I needed to recover at least the top part of the staff. Thinking about it would only make me mad, but if we had a chance to fight Pile Driver, it might be worth killing his character for the chance at my loot dropping from his corpse.

    My brain went elsewhere for a bit then wound back to our upcoming fight. Healing skills were important. Knowing how fast I could regenerate people¡¯s health bars would help. I watched my mana rebuild after the one healing spell. A single cast had set me back around ten percent of the total bar. It took five minutes to recover. That meant ten heals in rapid succession but they took time to cast. Rose¡¯s one heal might have repaired more but she¡¯d capped out, so I couldn¡¯t tell how effective the heal over time aspect had been.

    ¡°More dogs,¡± Rose whispered. ¡°Looks like that patrol is transforming the terrain. I haven¡¯t seen that in low Rank areas before. But I haven¡¯t been low Rank in ages.¡±

    I blinked and looked away from all the game windows I¡¯d been digging through. Four dogs circled a tree in front of us. The tree lost luster as the undead mongrels pranced. With each pass a leaf curled up and fell to the ground. They must have been transforming the area somehow, creating a [Blight].

    I poked some notes from the game and typed the word blight into an internet search box. Sure enough, there were entries out there on the web in vague code. The code was due to Continue Online¡¯s ¡°no internet guides¡± policy. Either way, there was enough out there in sideways speak to imply that some monsters might be able to change the terrain. Killing them would revert it. It was like fighting a disease or virus by acting as an antibody. Kill the carriers, repair the damaged area, push it back to the source.

    ¡°Gross.¡± His bulky form shuddered. ¡°We need to move quick. Before a second group joins. Maybe do a pull?¡± StoneMason asked. ¡°Your bolt?¡±

    His choppy sentences were easy enough to decipher. We could bring the monsters to us with a spell instead of leaping into the battle. StoneMason demonstrated the ability to learn, which is more than I could say when I was his apparent age. It¡¯d taken months for basic training to sink in, and even longer for me to feel like half a medic.

    ¡°I can do that. Just one until I see how far my mana dips.¡± That was the worst part about being a new player. So much of the game was discovery. Do stuff, things happen. Study objects, get skills. ¡°You can probably handle them easy if I miss, right?¡±

    StoneMason smiled and brought out yet another thick branch. I was beginning to think he hadn¡¯t picked up any real weapons. Just a bunch of uprooted trees. I hoped it was less than one hundred because it would be unfair for me to plant all those nuts and still not be able to make up for my temporary teammates¡¯ destruction.

    I studied the dogs again briefly. They still circled the tree but the leaves fell faster now. ¡°Plus, I think we can get me nature brownie points if we stop them from rotting the whole place.¡±

    They both nodded. I lifted a hand to trace the jagged line for a [Tiny Lightning Bolt] and thumbed the final dot. The spell took two seconds to trace. My hand tingled and energy crackled. I tilted my palm upward and hoped that it wouldn¡¯t go wild and hit my team.

    Electricity arced into the air and back down like a lobbed bomb. It missed the dogs and hit the tree. I cringed as wood charred. Bark snapped and a small fire flared.

    ¡°Whoops,¡± Rose muttered while creeping forward.

    The undead dogs flinched. Fire fell from the burning tree and landed on one¡¯s hide then spread, chewing up undead flesh with ease. I traced a second bolt and lobbed it as the biggest of the four dogs glanced our way. My second bolt traced a better arc and landed near enough to make the big dog jerk abruptly as all four legs gave out.

    ¡°Stunned him,¡± I said.

    His two unhurt companions charged for us. Strangled barks came out and a tooth fell to the ground. The fourth on fire dog dropped to the ground and rolled to beat out the flames.

    ¡°Let me,¡± Rose shouted and dashed forward.

    I tossed any concept of sneaking out of my mind. Rose clearly didn¡¯t believe in stealth, she simply wanted to stab monsters quickly. She reached the dogs, knelt, and came up with her knee sharply jabbing into one of the dogs. It spun to the side while Rose brought her knives to bear at the second dog.

    ¡°Watch out!¡± StoneMason shouted.

    The plan for a single bolt went out the window and I threw two back to back, chewing up almost thirty percent of my mana. It¡¯d recharge once we got out of battle, but I could risk one more [Tiny Lightning Bolt] and still have enough to heal us each at least once. With my current recovery rate, getting back to full would take too long.

    But if I drained my mana to the bottom and kept casting as it came back, I¡¯d probably get a skill. Or I could dunk myself in a bathtub of water. Or both. There were advantages to always playing on the edge as the game adapted around each Traveler¡¯s style.

    I tossed my third bolt at the leader. It shrugged off the damage and associated stun then snarled. Flecks of slobber and grime dripped to the ground causing dirt to sizzle. The stop, drop, and roll dog recovered and ran toward us. It quickly overtook the larger dog and lunged for Rose.

    Paws and teeth latched onto Rose¡¯s body. StoneMason barreled toward her with a huge stick in hand. I sighed heavily and tossed another [Tiny Lightning Bolt] at the dog Rose had kneed in the side. My mana hit bottom.

    It felt wrong to kick a dog, even a rotting undead butchery of one. Not that I loved animals or relished them, but this creature might have originally been a normal hound belonging to this manor. Something friendly and happy. Or maybe it¡¯d been a murderer hunting down foxes. Either way this current state resulted from the [Blight] effect.

    If we had time maybe I could work with the others to destroy whatever caused this problem. It¡¯d be nice to remove a dungeon from the game, at least, until some other idiot screwed up the area with some terrible quest line.

    A new dog leapt at me. I sidestepped badly and tumbled over. My [Reaction] skills weren¡¯t high enough to punch the critter in our exchange. My body hit the dirt which shook me. Vision spun and the dog¡¯s lunging form came to me in snapshots.

    StoneMason¡¯s weapon could be heard thudding into monsters, coupled with shouts of ¡°bad dog!¡± Rose had zero witty banter. Maybe she¡¯d been saying more but it was lost under the harsh, broken yips assaulting my ears.

    Luckily, this wasn¡¯t the first time a canine had attacked me, in-game or in real life. Working an ambulance had put me against people¡¯s animals more than once. Being in a combat zone had put me against guard dogs. I righted myself and got both feet under me. The dog twisted in an unnatural bend that made me sick to look at.

    I offered an arm, because attack dogs were stupid after training. Fantasy dogs were rarely more than loyal. This was a game, so it would hurt like heck but none of the damage would last long.

    ¡°Stupid tank,¡± I mumbled as the dog found my vaguely defensive limb with its teeth. They crunched. Pain lanced up my shoulder and across my chest. My body curled, dragging the dog and its clawing limbs with me. Its meaty neck and rotting body shook. Muscles tore. It all hurt but could be ignored.

    I pushed through it. The amount of pain people could suffer and still walk away was amazing. I saw it every day in the real world. This? This was just a game. A simple stupid game that tried its damnedest to make me forget this wasn¡¯t reality.

    Two spells. [Tiny Lightning Bolt] would hurt me as well as the dog and I couldn¡¯t cast it anyway. More pain might send my character into a death spiral. None of the others could be trusted to heal. [Branch of Healing] took less than the bolt. I used my free hand, thumbed out the tree. The dog shook, interrupting my spell.

    ¡°Undead,¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°On Friday!¡± Rose shouted.

    ¡°What?¡± StoneMason said. ¡°It¡¯s Saturday.¡±

    They were too far away to be useful. The big dog proved tougher than expected and Rose couldn¡¯t look away. I rolled around trying to get the one on me under control and recover my arm. My shoulder jerked. A wet sloshing sound drowned out whatever Rose said next.

    Pressure on my arm loosened. I pulled back and punched the dog in the side. It yelped, spun, and tried to bite me with a gross, now toothless jaw. The bar for my health plunged. We twisted around again and this time I managed to lock knees around the back of the dog¡¯s neck. It struggled. My head swam and vision muddied.

    I traced [Branch of Healing] again. A thumb went down on the last dot and the picture flared to life. My red bar, one of the few visible items, showed that the spell wasn¡¯t fixing my health. Mana disappeared regardless, so I¡¯d cast it upon something. Then I realized that the body under my hand felt weird.

    ¡°Friday?¡± Rose questioned.

    My ears rang. I rocked slightly and remembered this feeling. This feeling of being under fire in enemy territory. It¡¯d happened before. I¡¯d been wounded. I¡¯d been trying to apply a medical kit to a flailing person, like the dog under me which had stop snarling.

    There¡¯d been no health bar back then. There¡¯d been nothing but dying people and holes too big to patch up. It hadn¡¯t been red like in the training. It¡¯d been an ugly dark color mixed with mud and sweat.

    ¡°Clear. Except whatever¡¯s under you,¡± StoneMason said.

    I sat, mostly upright, with a dog¡¯s body pinned under my legs. It still moved. But the skin felt different.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay, I¡¯ve got this,¡± I said.

    I took a slow staggered breath and cast the spell again. Once again mana drained and the noises under me changed. Instead of mush and writhing maggots, I felt fur. Real fur. My vision hadn¡¯t fully cleared. A hand swept away mucus and other mess then looked at the results.

    The dog wasn¡¯t an undead monster anymore. I sat up and the canine squirmed away. I thumbed out a third healing spell and watched what remained of my mana go under half. This time I managed to cast the spell on my own arm. Broken flesh pieced together and displaced teeth fell toward the ground. They faded away before reaching the shifting earth below.

    Even the ground changed as a result of my healing spells. The dirt, which had been terraforming like the large tree, showed signs of fresh grass. It continued to improve as we stood there.

    Rose was the first to speak, ¡°Okay, that sucked. I forgot how bad pain feedback is at low Ranks.¡±

    StoneMason nodded and glanced at his abused stick. It hadn¡¯t fared well. ¡°We need to build up toughness and get some reduction traits. I got a few but that¡¯s because of the Stone Wall Path.¡±

    ¡°Stone Wall?¡± Rose responded. ¡°There¡¯s a Stone Wall Path? Is that like Iron Breaker or Heavy Knight?¡±

    I glanced around. Other creatures were in the distance, but they were far enough away for us to be safe. The map showed DapperSeed inspecting one room rather thoroughly. He had a note about a secret passage in one of the master bedrooms. I brushed it off. At this rate we¡¯d die well before getting to half the stuff he¡¯d mentioned.

    ¡°Kind of. Bonuses to only using natural items. Unrefined stuff. Like, smithed stuff will remove the bonus.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you¡¯re using trees?¡± Rose asked.

    I didn¡¯t pay attention to StoneMason¡¯s response. My mind went back to the fight. Our second battle was a bit of a mess. A quick brutal mess that ended up turning one of the undead dogs into a normal retriever of some sort. Barely pointed ears, a floppy tongue, and dirty fur that might be gold after a bath. It circled me like it¡¯d found a best friend. I frowned and almost deleted my [Druid] before this could get any worse.

    ¡°New friend?¡± Rose asked.

    It took a moment for me to realize she was talking to me. I shook my head and answered, ¡°Maybe. Not really into companions though. And you two seem okay.¡± They¡¯d fared far better than I did.

    ¡°We¡¯re built for it. Casters are a bitch until you get mobility. Unless you claim a legacy. I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s cheating with this bet though.¡± Rose stared up briefly and counted on her fingers. What she counted for, I couldn¡¯t say. ¡°We¡¯re capped at Fifteen Ranks, right?¡±

    She had a point. Claiming the other Fridays would certainly come with bonuses to all sorts of stuff and make life easier. They just came with too much other drama. [Mobility] skills were outside my normal play style and the only Friday I had with lots of them had been on the run from a bunch of royal knights.

    ¡°What about the healing thing? Looks like it reverses the effects. Impressive. For a Second Rank,¡± StoneMason said.

    ¡°Sure, for now.¡± I shrugged. ¡°But healing the source might off the monster spawns. If we can get ahead and clear the center of this, we might be able to win with less work. I mean, we can only hang out here for so long before they overwhelm us.¡±

    ¡°Right. If we simply kept killing monsters out here, the game will throw bosses at us,¡± StoneMason said while nodding.

    ¡°Or do nothing until we step inside,¡± Rose countered. ¡°Continue¡¯s dynamic. It¡¯ll do whatever challenges us. Until we die, adapt, or run away. Or stay logged on too long.¡±

    They were right. Continue seemed to increase in difficulty the longer a person played in a single session. Even hanging out in a bar ended up with issues if players didn¡¯t log off now and then. Then there was the dynamic comment. On all the characters I¡¯d played, the game felt more like a narrative than any prior video game. Grinding skills in prior games involved doing the same thing repeatedly. Continue Online could do that too but trying new stuff led to faster growth for every skill.

    ¡°Whatever we do, we should try to remove this corruption,¡± I said. ¡°My bet is finding a source. The Widow I guess. I imagine some undead matron that¡¯s half a spider being in the secret area Johnny marked.¡±

    I stood and went over to the large tree. There had been a pack of dogs circling it, but they were gone. The dog I cured plopped down and curled up next to the tree. It glanced around and every time one of us moved, golden eyes would stare at us. I ignored the dog and tried to see if studying the tree would help my [Druid] path. At least it showed signs of reverting to normal.

    Rose walked up next to me and stared at the tree. Her lips curled in a frown. ¡°Is that the man after beer money talking, or the game brainwashing you with the druid path?¡±

    I glanced at the manor in the distance. Sunset turned the entire place spookier. Something about the shadows and dimming light felt wrong. Straight wrong. It¡¯d been a while since anything in Continue Online had made me feel this way. The nearness of that pain, fumbling blindly to heal someone despite being a mess myself. It reminded me of being a younger naiver man. But the past lay behind me. Maybe it was planting all those trees and letting nature take its course. Maybe it was the [Druid] Path speaking like Rose suggested. Either way, I had an alien desire to do something besides drink myself silly in a bar.

    I wanted to fix this place.

    ¡°Yes,¡± I answered.

    ¡°To which one?¡±

    ¡°Both?¡± In my mind, fixing this place and removing the [Blight] source would be great for the [Druid] Path. An added bonus would be all the stuff the game threw at us during this process. We¡¯d run into a lot of monsters trying to set things right. We might even find real treasure worth keeping, that way, even if we lost, we¡¯d still walk away with something extra. Plus, if we solved the problem before the four hours was up, it might screw the other people we were betting against. There were too many ways it would work in our favor.

 Session 5 â€“ Terrible, Rotten Children

    I worried, briefly, that I¡¯d found too many reasons to solve this [Blight] problem. It was as if I couldn¡¯t think of anything but upsides. There had to be problems with this but nothing seemed notable. So what if we died? I¡¯d come back later. There were still movies to watch, some exercise to get in, and everything else in the real world. Plus there was always Sunday.

    The game had taken notice of my statement and prompted me toward great heights with a snarky quest box. I read it over while the other two stared at me, slack-jawed. Or whatever look youngsters had when I wasn¡¯t paying attention.

    Quest: Blight-Be-Gone

    Difficulty: High

    Details: [Widow¡¯s Children] is a classic reoccurring nightmare for Travelers. Every time someone cleans the place up, it gets all messy again. Find the source of the corruption and stop this endless cycle once and for all. Or don¡¯t. Maybe you¡¯re a weird druid who thinks undead nastiness is natural.

    Reward: As a druid you should be happy knowing you¡¯ve returned nature to the correct cycle. Where cougars eat young bucks for dinner. But if you need material rewards, there¡¯s some of those too. Somewhere. If you take responsibility for solving perversion and don¡¯t walk away.

    The text bothered me. Maybe it was a sly jab at all the characters I¡¯d re-rolled over the years. There was merit to the statements but sticking around to solve quests was not the same as putting up with cruddy unneeded drama.

    ¡°I mean, I know you¡¯ve played before, but have you dealt with this kind of stuff?¡± StoneMason asked. He waved a meaty arm toward the building. Even the windows dripped with goo. ¡°You don¡¯t have enough mana to cure this place. And whatever is at the core, is probably Ranks above us. Otherwise we couldn¡¯t use this place for the gamble. If it was so easy to race to the center and kill the final boss, DapperSeed couldn¡¯t have convinced Pile Driver to do this.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve seen it before in other places. Or something close. There¡¯s always a cause. It¡¯s always solvable. Though if we can do it in¡±¡ªI stopped to check the time¡ª¡°three and a half hours, I¡¯m not sure. Johnny might have found something. Check the map. He always finds weird stuff.¡±

    Johnny had been the one to find my staff for the priest version of Friday. The shorter man kept on scouting. During our fight he¡¯d explored another twelve rooms and a few hallways. There were extra notes like [Steal this] in some places. Probably something bolted to a wall that his character couldn¡¯t pry off. I flicked through them searching for what might be a source to this corruption, but our map hadn¡¯t been filled in enough. The secret room he hadn¡¯t explored would be our best bet.

    Rose cleaned off her daggers, stuck a hand into the undead dogs we¡¯d killed, and felt around. She¡¯d clearly played enough to be desensitized. I could have done it too. Having my hands inside a person¡¯s bleeding body was far more unnerving than a virtual rot dog, no matter the realism. Rose dug through the corpses looting who knew what. Probably some foul substance to serve as poison for her kitchen knives.

    ¡°Stone¡¯s right,¡± Rose said. ¡°It¡¯d have to be something way above this place¡¯s Rank. Only stuff beyond the norm can actually transform an area. This is something undead, clearly. So, ritual gone wrong? Hell portal? Phylactery for a low-level lich maybe? I¡¯ve met a few necromancers, and this is the kind of stupid stuff they find hilarious.

    ¡°I saw it once with a fire elemental plane. Creatures that were aflame would spread out from the center. Took a raid three weeks to push everything back,¡± She shook her arms to get gunk off.

    ¡°They were probably farming items,¡± StoneMason said. ¡°Most guilds will milk those places for materials. You know how they are, new stuff gets their crafters all hot and bothered.¡±

    Rose¡¯s eyes rolled at the bad joke and she stood up. She pulled a rag out of player inventory and wiped off her hands. I longed for the fantasy version of latex for gloves but there wouldn¡¯t be enough time to get any from an auction house. ¡°They were. Or at least, that¡¯s what I was told. Last boss dropped a nuke on the place as he died. Killed half the raid group. It was neat.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I heard about that. Like a year ago back on the east continent. Think they tried to take over a kingdom using an army with flaming swords.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know if they meant a year in game time, or a year in reality. Either way, their conversation went on for too long. I zoned out and studied my mana. If healing in the real world had been as simple as tracing a pattern, I would have been a fantastic doctor. Wars would have taken on a whole new spin if we could cast spells.

    ¡°You sure about this, Friday?¡± Rose asked.

    I nodded.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be hard, but I¡¯m game. There¡¯s bound to be all sorts of goodies. Maybe secret quests. Sometimes these are chained.¡± Rose thumbed her blade and frowned. Apparently it wasn¡¯t sharp enough.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go then,¡± StoneMason said. ¡°We¡¯re behind on points.¡±

    They weren¡¯t wrong. This would be tough, and we were sucking. Next to our score were four others, belonging to the other groups we were competing against. We weren¡¯t dead last but at this rate we¡¯d probably lose whatever money Johnny had or hadn¡¯t paid into the pool.

    ¡°Clear the yard or stick with the plan to get inside?¡± StoneMason asked.

    I couldn¡¯t figure out why they asked me. Maybe it was a group consensus thing. I rarely played in groups since most of my Fridays were on a mission to get drunk.

    ¡°More dogs. This time you keep their attention, and give me one to heal again,¡± I said.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Rose said.

    We veered for a pack of dogs. The one I¡¯d healed stayed behind with the recovering tree. I¡¯d banked on healing more and maybe they¡¯d form a safety pack or something similar. Knowing my luck, players from another group would charge by and murder the friendly dogs, but it might also unlock more.

    The third battle went smoother than the first two. I used less mana on stray lightning bolts. Rose managed to disable a dog through some rogue ability I didn¡¯t know about, and we healed it. Sure enough, like the first dog, it circled around for a while then went to join its companion.

    ¡°More?¡± StoneMason asked.

    Rose thought about it while I studied the tree in the distance. ¡°We¡¯re not in last place. We can do another hour out here while DapperSeed scouts, then go inside?¡±

    StoneMason nodded. We pulled three more packs over about twenty minutes. StoneMason¡¯s new tactics of throwing a stick to distract one dog while we murdered the others helped us greatly. As the last dog converted to a furry Doberman, the remaining packs changed their patrolling actions. Three packs, all at the far edge of our sight, turned in our direction.

    My lumbering pal didn¡¯t notice. ¡°I¡¯ve never healed before. How does that work?¡±

    ¡°Badly. Pay attention.¡± I pointed then remembered how little we¡¯d noticed when StoneMason tried to alert us at the start of our dungeon. ¡°The other packs are doing something.¡±

    ¡°So are your friends,¡± Rose stated.

    The five dogs we¡¯d separated and healed were all standing, side by side.

    ¡°Event?¡± StoneMason asked. ¡°Triggered from pushing back the blight?¡±

    ¡°Neat. That means we¡¯re on the right track.¡±

    ¡°With twelve versus eight,¡± I said. ¡°And patrols. And a boss. There¡¯s always a boss.¡±

    ¡°Wave event,¡± Rose said.

    Wave event was a fancy term implying we¡¯d be stuck fighting monster after monster until something big and scarier than the rest confronted us. I didn¡¯t like them. They were annoying in old shooter games and Continue Online made them worse by adding things like pain, slobber, and deafening sounds.

    ¡°Kite?¡± StoneMason asked.

    Rose shook her head.

    ¡°I can distract one?¡± He hefted another stick. The baby-faced giant had a metric ton. The would-be druid in me twitched at the thought of so many uprooted trees. Luckily, this was a video game.

    ¡°And the others?¡±

    ¡°Dogs. I can get three. At a time.¡±

    They were trying to figure out ways to keep us all alive. I wasn¡¯t entirely sure what the mechanics of this event would be. We had maybe half a minute left to figure it out. We might not even have that much. Howls, disgusting and garbled due to rotting bodies, echoed around the huge yard.

    I mimicked his short sentences and said, ¡°Just do that big spin again. Alone. By yourself. Over there.¡±

    Rain started pouring. It was almost perfect. The extra water might be enough to help my mana regenerate faster. It would also leave me miserable and suffering a cold that no amount of heals would remove. If we¡¯d had a few more actual hours to play it might be easier to come up with strategies, but I¡¯d essentially been thrown into this with barely any time to get ready.

    ¡°I got this,¡± I muttered. ¡°I can do this.¡±

    Dogs ran in our direction. ¡°Intercepting!¡± StoneMason shouted.

    Rose backed up and eyed the charging creatures. They were tightly clustered and aimed for the tree and normal dogs behind us. StoneMason threw a branch, one of the dogs got distracted and chased the stick.

    ¡°On it.¡± Rose leapt for the separating dog.

    We¡¯d done this a few times already. StoneMason took on the pack. Rose ran up behind the stick chaser and incapacitated the stray with a kick to the creature¡¯s well-presented balls. I winced in sympathy pain but ran over and traced the outline for [Branch of Healing] on its side.

    A single heal didn¡¯t work as fast as casting two but I didn¡¯t have mana to stack a second one on top of the first. The lone cure should be enough by the time the dog recovered from Rose¡¯s violent stun.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Clearing the area!¡± StoneMason announced.

    Rose cursed. I stepped away in case our tank¡¯s sudden spin almost caught us unaware. I flashed back to one of the morbid jokes from my military years. It was a variance on Murphy¡¯s Law, friendly fire, isn¡¯t. StoneMason¡¯s beat stick would hurt us all.

    Undead dogs gave garbled yelps. StoneMason¡¯s stupidly huge tree spun a sloppy three sixty. Bits of monsters were sent flying. I eyed the tarnished remains of one while Rose promptly went to war with one of the survivors that had been knocked out of StoneMason¡¯s whirl of doom.

    I wouldn¡¯t be able to heal this one and convert it. Rose couldn¡¯t stun them back to back. Not for lack of ability to swing a leg, but timing and opportunity. Knives were also terrible weapons against dogs, but I hadn¡¯t wanted to explain it to her. Based on her knowledge of spell types, she¡¯d probably played a mage or dabbled with casting on a past character. Melee was a whole different game.

    My mana slowly recharged. Thunder cracked in the distance. StoneMason stomped with reckless indifference on two of the dogs he¡¯d knocked over. His weapon thudded to the ground and I could see that one spin had drained him.

    Undead monsters held no fear of being stabbed. Rose moved quickly to dodge the snarling maw coming at her while I eyed my mana again. A few seconds had done nothing to give me energy.

    The dogs still stood by the tree, watching the approaching enemies. Another pack came snarling around the corner of the house. I groaned. The game seemed intent upon throwing multiple dogs at a time. I would have been happy with a hound master or some other humanoid creature who might be easier for Rose.

    Two guys chased after the pack of dogs. I blinked. One of the other parties had shown up, fighting our waves of monsters. That would work for us since another two hounds were coming at us from across the field.

    ¡°Stoney!¡± I spoke in a calm voice. ¡°Distract that pack toward them.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s dirty,¡± Rose said and coughed weakly. She looked terrible but the dog she¡¯d been fighting had lost the battle. I lifted a hand to form a heal. ¡°Keep it. You don¡¯t have enough mana.¡± A frown crossed her face. ¡°If we can use them as a distraction we¡¯ll have a bit of breathing room.¡±

    The young woman was right. I mean, I had enough to heal but not enough to keep us going. Healing at ranks after walking into a wave event sucked.

    StoneMason pulled another stick out and threw it at the two dogs coming from the field. ¡°Fetch!¡±

    One of the two coming from our left chased the tree branch, right through the small pack coming from around the building, and into the two unaware players. The other dogs, which had been coming for us, turned and attacked the players who had been chasing them from behind.

    ¡°Shit! Shit McFucker face!¡± one player shouted.

    ¡°Nuke. Nuke it all!¡± his friend demanded quickly. Their words turned garbled as at least four dogs attacked them.

    I watched them fight then scanned the yard. We were clear for a few seconds at least. The two other players weren¡¯t going to get far. I would have vaguely thought about saving them, but we were competing against each other and they¡¯d respawn a real day later. By then I¡¯d be drunk, happy, and even if they held a grudge, I¡¯d delete myself to start over.

    Clearly, my own judgement was impaired, but it fell back to reality versus a game. This place meant nothing compared to leaving a squad member behind on the field. This place meant nothing compared to seeing children die. It was an escape from reality. Pain meant nothing, I survived it.

    Looking at Rose reminded me that not everyone felt the same way. She winced and held her side. One of the knives had fallen to the ground. StoneMason¡¯s face flinched, as if he saw something I didn¡¯t. I saw the spreading red patch on her leg and the torn pants. Broken teeth on the ground and a dead dog. Rose moved on as though none of it registered. Based on my understanding, she gave zero fucks about StoneMason¡¯s gaze.

    We had different stances. I didn¡¯t like seeing people in pain, but I knew we could suffer through a lot. It fell back to that stupid quest text, nature versus nurture. I could coddle, and that did no good. Instead, I was here to help with the pain if she wanted. Just like at work, just like back in the service. All those hours as an intern, in school, my job was to remove pain if people asked. That had to be the right answer.

    They recovered for a half minute while the other party fought. Apparently, they had a third partner who cast spells. I¡¯d probably know more about the other parties if I paid attention to our competition screens. While I brought up the screen to check out the competition, two dogs died under the barrage of flame.

    They¡¯d picked a crappy place to approach from. Yet another pack of dogs raced at them. Their points kept jumping but it didn¡¯t look good.

    ¡°More dogs. Do we lure them too?¡± StoneMason asked.

    I shrugged. StoneMason threw a stick and pulled yet another pack over to the competition. One man had fallen completely. I could see he had zero health, even from here. His friend, a mage with some morning star butchery for a weapon, went down next. The third ran. Soon their team dimmed off the screen and they were out of the race entirely.

    ¡°Hey, fuck you guys!¡± he shouted.

    The remaining dogs tore into him. I almost felt dirty, but we were all competing against each other.

    That left us with five half demolished dogs returning to the original goal, the tree with some healthy hounds under its vaguely withered branches. We could take them one on one based on numbers alone, but this game would throw some stupid boss at us.

    ¡°Any guesses on waves?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Three? Five? Normally one of those,¡± Rose said. She stood slowly and rolled a shoulder. ¡°Had eleven in a raid once.¡±

    Rose was being stupid about the legacy system. If she kept quipping about their prior lives in the game world then Continue would start linking things together. Heck, the system even brought in facts from other games in the Online vein. I¡¯d once had a weird mix of superhero and fantasy, which presented as psychic powers. My eyes rolled and the tangent of thoughts went away.

    StoneMason shook his head. ¡°That was at least four smaller packs. We¡¯ll get one more. Then the boss. Unless another party does something. Hard to say. Might deviate.¡±

    Rose glared at the sky. ¡°Please don¡¯t.¡±

    Then the leftover dogs were on them. Rose dove for one. StoneMason spun again while dogs, both undead and fully functional, barked. My ears overloaded. It briefly reminded me of being a kid. There¡¯d been a neighbor¡¯s dog that always dug holes under the fence. The annoying mongrel barked at me through the fence. Dad had yelled back.

    How many years ago had that been? I shook it off. Stupid Continue always seemed to bring up the oddest flashbacks. I checked bars then proceeded to be useful.

    ¡°Two heals left,¡± I announced. ¡°Call if you need them.¡±

    The other two might have heard me. Maybe they didn¡¯t. I checked their bars, both were above half health but clearly wounded. If my [Basic Medic] skill elevated I could get more details but there hadn¡¯t been enough time.

    My eyes fluttered. That flashback might have been an inspired hint. The dogs could help.

    ¡°Dig, dig!¡± I waved at them and hoped they¡¯d understand me with training, game logic, or [Druid] powers. Pooling water would help me use this affinity and get enough mana to heal. Maybe I could turn into a lightning bolt machine and crank out damage and heals like some crazy mage with [Arcane Band-Aid]s.

    They ignored me. ¡°A hole. Dig me a hole,¡± I shouted at the dogs. Clearer commands didn¡¯t help. I hoped for a moment that they might be waiting for a command, but they didn¡¯t care. They were biding their time for some other event.

    I spun and searched for cover. There wasn¡¯t any. We were out in the open, save for trees scattered around. No other enemies were in the yard so maybe these were our last stragglers before the boss.

    What then, were our dogs waiting for? They were all weakened based on their thin reedy bars. They were also being loud. Maybe [Panicked]. I really need a solid inspect skill if I wanted to be a healer. It¡¯d help me get more focused spells. Sadly, we didn¡¯t have enough time for last minute skill gains. There weren¡¯t magical pop-up screens that would occur at just the right time. This was a game that treated everyone with the same casual indifference.

    If the dogs weren¡¯t helping, and nothing was out to kill me, I¡¯d use the last of my mana to heal the others. They¡¯d need to be in fighting shape. I ran to Rose and the dog she fought. Her other hand held the mutt down. My fingers wove the pattern for [Branch of Healing] over where she pressed down on the undead dog.

    She pushed weakly. I ignored her and watched as the spell managed get both her nicked arm and the dead creature. Rose fell back as the healing worked its magic.

    StoneMason stomped on the undead with his bare feet. I cringed but searched for any still unliving beast to be turned into a hound for our team. There were none. His whirling tree of doom combined with uncaring footwork had finished off the already hurt dogs.

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t have done it. Without that mage,¡± StoneMason said between huffs. ¡°Lucky. The other group. Not so much.¡±

    ¡°You did fine. Just heal up.¡±

    ¡°More bandages,¡± he agreed.

    ¡°Next wave will be here soon.¡±

    ¡°Those guys have to be here to help with the boss,¡± Rose said.

    She looked like crap. That didn¡¯t feel exact enough, if I were to really describe Rose, it was put through a blender, poured out, badly baked, then thrown off a cliff for birds to pick at below.

    My stomach growled. Once we finished this boss I¡¯d have to get back to real life for a bit of food.

    ¡°You¡¯re almost out of mana,¡± she commented.

    ¡°Yep. Needed a hole. Can regen in water.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a de-buff too. Something about mana being halved?¡±

    I blinked as her reminder hit me. The reason my mana was going so fast as a healer didn¡¯t have anything to do with my Rank. It had to do with my fifty percent loss after teleporting through a river or raincloud or whatever.

    ¡°You can see it?¡± I asked.

    She nodded.

    ¡°How much time is left?¡±

    ¡°Too long. Ten minutes.¡±

    StoneMason rubbed his head. The grating sound irritated me. ¡°Surprised we¡¯re still alive.¡±

    ¡°Me too,¡± Rose responded.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the boss?¡± I asked. This courtyard was too dark, and stars and moon only did so much to illuminate it.

    They ignored me. Maybe I hadn¡¯t spoken out loud or they were too busy trying to recover. StoneMason had actual bandages and wrapped them around Rose¡¯s slightly less broken body with surprising gentleness. His head shook the entire time.

    She winced and checked her arm. Bandages were weaker than actual heals but it¡¯d stop the bleeding while the last of my [Branch of Healing]¡¯s regenerative effect finished. Her health couldn¡¯t go back to full unless I found a better spell, but she¡¯d be close to three quarters up.

    ¡°That¡¯s probably the boss for this event,¡± Rose said. Both of my party members turned to look at the manor. I checked the map and noted that Johnny had added an [Ewwww] to the area Rose and StoneMason seemed to be staring.

    A single bright light flared before dimming to a steady glow. The glow traveled down a hallway, lighting up a vague form behind dirty glass. All three of us, and possibly the hounds, watched as the lumbering creature proceeded to the far wing¡¯s doorway.

    ¡°Clearly related.¡± Rose sounded winded. ¡°Unless one of the other groups triggered something. Fuck, I hate being uncoordinated like this. Guilds are so much easier to raid with.¡±

    ¡°Boss?¡± I asked. ¡°I need time. I need more mana to heal.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine.¡± I didn¡¯t believe her. We¡¯d all die here, and I¡¯d fail to get my money, my staff, and a drink. This Friday would be utterly ruined. The rest of Saturday was in jeopardy too.

    I almost felt urgent. Games rarely got me worked up, but this strange siege had high enough stakes for me to care. Maybe it was getting to heal people in the game after being extra useless during the work week. It felt almost like a job I¡¯d actually thought would be rewarded. I¡¯d wanted to be a family doctor, gained a degree, and did the internship before technology relegated my field half pointless.

    Here, I was fixing stuff without the Voices trying to shove their righteous nonsense into my ear. Sure, it was all digital, but curing this [Blight] had more value than driving some panicked kid to the emergency room because he¡¯d tried weed for the first time.

    ¡°There.¡± StoneMason pointed. ¡°Its coming out the door. So, humanoid. With a lantern? Is that?¡± He nodded happily, and that childish grin took over his face. ¡°Maybe we can loot it. I could use a light source.¡±

    ¡°You forgot to bring something?¡± Rose asked. ¡°Because so did I. I haven¡¯t been this low Ranked in ages.¡±

    They were right. None of us had brought anything to see with. The only person who might be able to explore a totally dark house without some source of light would be Johnny. Supplies for dungeon runs were not my area of expertise.

    ¡°I doubt it¡¯s luck. Or a coincidence,¡± StoneMason added.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. The game¡¯s throwing us a bone by supplying a light source. If we can survive long enough to take it.¡± Rose snorted then outright laughed. It was a choppy bark reminding me of years gone by. I¡¯d dated a few women with the same infectious laugh. Every time it made me smile, even now, years later.

    The figure coming out of the manor held up an old-fashioned lantern. They were too far away for me to make out their face perfectly. They had the same-ish build as StoneMason, but a bit more twisted and slack on one side from a rotting form.

    A few quick strides brought him closer. His lantern cast an ugly picture. One arm hung loosely like it¡¯d been dislocated and never popped back into place. His face slacked on one side and merged awkwardly with a neck made of boils.

    ¡°Mom,¡± he shouted with an entirely too whiney voice. ¡°Someone¡¯s beated up the dogs!¡±

    Another voice in the mansion screamed. A long, loud noise that carried over the landscape. The recovered hounds on our side whimpered. The tree¡¯s weaker leaves fluttered into the distance.

    The party crashing hulk nodded. ¡°Okay, Mom. I¡¯ll beated them up back!¡±

    He lumbered in our direction.

    Rose put up her kitchen knives and got ready to, I don¡¯t know, block a fist that was bigger than her head. StoneMason stepped forward. I checked my mana, found it wanting, and searched for a puddle to jump in. If my water affinity had been higher, maybe a storm could have helped me regen mana, but having wet clothes wasn¡¯t enough.

    ¡°Always fucking giants. It¡¯s like the game thinks bigger is scarier or something,¡± Rose muttered.

    ¡°Size matters,¡± StoneMason responded.

    Rose¡¯s mouth opened but I shook my head and waved away her retort.

    ¡°Us boys are stupid. We already went over this,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s kill the boss and move on because I¡¯m not about to argue over penis size without a few drinks in me.¡±

 Session 6 â€“ Parental Controls

    ¡°That¡¯s our boss, and then we can rest,¡± Rose said. ¡°That¡¯s the best part. After a huge boss battle, taking a nap. Or going pee. Voices, how I love the break afterward.¡±

    ¡°Or death,¡± StoneMason said.

    Rose shrugged.

    Ugly got uglier as it approached. He probably had some cool system name like [Mush Mouth the 5<sup>th</sup>] but I¡¯d never find out. The boils on his neck popped and oozed as he moved.

    ¡°Eww,¡± Rose said.

    ¡°Undead are gross,¡± StoneMason agreed.

    I rolled my eyes. Gross was subjective. They weren¡¯t wearing shoes and StoneMason¡¯s feet still squished with eyeballs from defeated dogs. At least I had an excuse for lacking footwear. [Druid]s had [Natural Vibe] which theoretically helped me sense the area. It might have worked too but I¡¯d been distracted since getting the ability.

    Drunk me would have a blast playing with these new abilities. Come next weekend, if I stuck with this Friday, I¡¯d probably have a few new random tricks on top of the old ones. Sober me had less creativity. I envied the young who asked stupid questions and tried ridiculous combinations then came out with abilities.

    The boss stopped at thirty feet away while the other two readied their weapons. I rubbed my forehead and wondered when we¡¯d get to the get good part.

    ¡°Is he attacking?¡± Rose asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see any mind tricks,¡± StoneMason answered. ¡°So no illusion checks.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re Rank Two, or whatever,¡± I chimed in. More accurately, they were Rank whatever, and I was only a Two. ¡°The boss won¡¯t be that complicated.¡±

    They both backed up a step. Their toes wiggled. I got the sense they were apprehensive about fighting such a large creature while being low on resources.

    Our foe lifted two sausage fingers up to his lopsided face, puckered his cheeks, and blew.

    The small map I had to the side of my vision flooded with notes from Johnny. [Dogs], [Dogs!], [OH SHI-] and so on. They marked a crazy trail across the building as Johnny clearly fled.

    ¡°Incoming,¡± I said.

    ¡°No shit,¡± Rose answered.

    ¡°Undead digestive tracts don¡¯t work right,¡± StoneMason added.

    Right, a whistling giant clearly was summoning even more mongrels. I hoped that us clearing monsters, along with the other groups fighting, might buy us time. If this had been a single group instance or some other video game quirk it might have been harder. Or easier. Heck, I didn¡¯t know.

    ¡°We can do this,¡± I said as an idea hit me. ¡°Stoney!¡± His head snapped toward me as the sharp noise faded. I waved to the ground. ¡°Dig me a pit for the water!¡±

    His eyebrow went up. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Do it!¡± Rose shouted then ran for the boss.

    My head hurt. I¡¯d been logged in for almost three hours of real time and needed a longer break. Events were moving too fast. Rose reached the boss. A stream of dogs came cruising around the corner in a sluggish stream. StoneMason grunted, stopped digging the hole he¡¯d barely started, and intercepted the mobs.

    Thankfully mana regenerated. I thought it¡¯d take longer to get enough for a heal or two but it seemed to be recovering slightly faster the closer to the bottom my bar reached. With this, I could heal a dog. Maybe two or three if they were beaten into submission near each other and the splash effect of my heal got lucky.

    Then something happened I didn¡¯t expect. The boss, easily three times Rose¡¯s size, turned and ran away.

    ¡°What¡¯s he doing?¡± Rose demanded.

    StoneMason didn¡¯t answer. He spun in a wild circle with his stupidly large tree trunk.

    ¡°Sick ¡®em,¡± the overgrown man-boy shouted. His voice grew sharper as he whined new instructions while running. ¡°No. Get her! Get the ugly one.¡±

    Rose stopped chasing and turned toward StoneMason. She picked a new path to get behind our meat wall team member. I mentally clapped and searched for dogs to heal.

    There had to be a reason [Druid] spells turned undead into friendly, healthy, and useless dogs. There had to be a critical mass that our team¡¯s dogs could reach. There might have been key items inside. We might have skipped a quest. I should have had a higher Rank.

    All those thoughts flashed through as Rose got into position. The stream of dogs ran toward Rose and right into StoneMason¡¯s swirl. A few dogs made it through the bulk of his weapon and latched onto his arms. Others turned into chunks, adding more mass until StoneMason was covered.

    ¡°No! Puppies,¡± the boss shouted. He¡¯d fled fast, reaching around twenty feet away from StoneMason and Rose. His fingers lifted in another whistle.

    ¡°Jesus,¡± Rose shouted, looking at the mess covering StoneMason¡¯s body. Parts from a dozen dogs clung to him like filthy armor.

    His health bar sat at half from one wave alone. I ran for him then fell back as a loud sound deafened me. Flames billowed and black clouds covered the sky. Either the event had gone crazy, or one of the other parties did something. I saw the kill count for two groups skyrocket past our score.

    Johnny popped a dozen notes onto the map. I didn¡¯t have time to read them and waved the annoying screen closed. The boss was still in action. More undead mutts were coming. He shouted a new order to the oncoming mass, ¡°Get the handsome one!¡±

    I had to heal our tank. My legs wobbled and messages popped up telling me I was debilitated somehow. It didn¡¯t matter. I¡¯d moved under real gun fire, eventually, a video game didn¡¯t matter. It didn¡¯t matter dammit.

    StoneMason huffed. Rose was somewhere screaming angrily. I didn¡¯t know exactly when I¡¯d reached StoneMason, but the half giant grunted at me. My fingers traced a healing spell. The bar drained what little had recovered. Even in the game I was crappy at being a doctor.

    I wasn¡¯t good at anything. My life was a series of attempts to be worthwhile followed by mediocrity chased by alcohol. When the government allowed me to drink and when bartenders weren¡¯t quick to card everyone. Technology made it harder to be irresponsible.

    We were going to die because I couldn¡¯t heal us enough. It was only a game and it should have been well within our means. Only Johnny had brought us somewhere insane and I¡¯d barely trained. It was joining the military all over again. No amount of training or foreknowledge could have prepared me for coming up woefully short.

    His dogs were everywhere. Ours sat under the tree watching the fight with ears perked. Their heads pointed in unison toward us. I ran in their direction.

    ¡°The hounds!¡± Rose uttered half an idea. I¡¯d figured out the dogs were important without her bellowing.

    ¡°Ignore me,¡± I responded while waving my arms wildly. They disregarded my frantic movements.

    StoneMason had the next idea. He swayed out of his latest spin. ¡°Use his command!¡±

    The boss had said ¡°Sic ¡®em.¡± My shoulders lifted in a shrug.

    The command sounded goofy when the boss said it.

    ¡°Sic ¡®em!¡± I shouted while pointing at the boss. It sounded stupid when I said it. A dozen wet, muddy, and slobbering canines dashed by, straight for the twisted hulk of a boss.

    ¡°Bad dogs!¡± the boss whined. He dropped the lantern and ran.

    ¡°Good dogs!¡± StoneMason echoed immediately.

    The hounds ignored them both and continued chasing the boss. That left us with a mob of enemy undead.

    Rose caught onto the boss mechanics before I did. ¡°We¡¯re in an attrition battle. Our side versus theirs. Quick, heal more dogs.¡±

    StoneMason was doing his spinning thing but his attack was no longer a neat pretty circle. Not that it ever had been. He stumbled, bumping into creatures. Enemies leapt over the branches and scrambled over each other to get to his face.

    ¡°With what mana?¡± I demanded.

    They didn¡¯t hear me. It would take five minutes, or more, before I had enough for another heal. That was the trouble with games like Continue Online. They were high paced at the wrong time. If we survived, I¡¯d have a few skills or traits to help regen energy faster, but now there was nothing.

    I sat down and started digging a hole. If no one else was going to do it, I¡¯d work on my own.

    It wasn¡¯t like planting seeds. My fingers ached after the first few seconds. Rose screamed something at me but I tuned it out. It was easy with all the barking dogs attacking.

    The top layer felt gross. Like digging through rotting flesh. It squirmed and itched. A foot down, the dirt changed. Something softer made my arm tingle. Delirium had set in. A handful of seconds passed, and I¡¯d made myself a foot-deep hole without much width. Either being a [Druid] helped or the dirt here had grown soft.

    I studied the hole for a moment. There was a clear separation between two types of earth. On top was something that could only be described as filthy earth. In the real world it might have had a use, bred bugs and moss which would air the soil. In-game, it was a sign that whatever undead trait had saturated the place only infected the surface level. A plague of earth.

    Water already pooled. I stuck my foot in and hoped it counted as partial immersion. Or maybe the game would think I was planting myself. I could have stuck my head in but ignorance helped no one.

    ¡°One with water,¡± I muttered.

    A message flashed. Something happened. I felt, weird. A cross between sick to my stomach and on the verge of a sneeze. My toes curled tight enough to make a muscle cramp. Images of my first battle hit me and I retched.

    ¡°Gross,¡± Rose said.

    I don¡¯t know why that came through clearly. Nothing else did. Everything about me was madness. Dead dogs. Healthy dogs. Two players who were hardly more than children. They were young, naive, and full of themselves. I¡¯d been the same way before going to war.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    That was it. It had been coming all along. I closed my eyes, traced the [Branch of Healing] spell upon the ground and prayed, not to God, but to the universe as a whole, that the world would simply let me be. That was the problem with the world. The past went with us, no matter where we ran to or how different reality had become. Continue Online¡¯s feedback, the smell of rotting bodies, festering wounds, and puss filled corpses had been too much.

    The spell did nothing.

    I cast it again and ignored the mess I¡¯d made of my new player tunic and crappy pants. It didn¡¯t matter that the hole I¡¯d dug might be filled with who knew what.

    ¡°Goddammit,¡± I muttered.

    The haunting image from the river who might have been my mother popped up. She frowned, and I felt a vague sensation of someone telling me real men didn¡¯t need to cuss. Her opinion meant shit. I¡¯d been alive far longer, without her, then I¡¯d ever been with her alive.

    I traced the spell again with my eyes closed. Nothing happened. No tingles of energy or dips in my mana bar. No changes to the squishy ground. I clumped dirt together, because of course stupid me hadn¡¯t even prepared a real weapon. [Druid]s could probably use the earth to attack but it¡¯d require mana. With the de-buff, without the skills, without the right time to prepare, I¡¯d fucked up.

    ¡°I¡¯m worthless,¡± I whispered then clamped a hand over my mouth. Those were my father¡¯s words, not mine. They had fucked up his life, not mine. I didn¡¯t have kids so there was no possible way for me to be a failure like him.

    ¡°Too many,¡± Rose said. She huffed next to me, seemingly oblivious of my plight.

    The boss still ran from our dogs. There weren¡¯t enough to swarm him properly. If I¡¯d had more mana, we could have had three or four times as many dogs. Running with Rose would have taken work and left me exhausted, but I¡¯d also have a full mana bar instead of this limited one.

    ¡°Gwah?¡± StoneMason said.

    ¡°English, motherfucker,¡± Rose responded halfheartedly.

    My body shook. The sick feeling hadn¡¯t gone away. I scribbled [Branch of Healing] again on the ground, on myself, on everything nearby and got nowhere.

    ¡°Newb healer,¡± Rose muttered. She readied her blades. ¡°Could have been fine. I wanted that lantern. It would have been neat.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not any better,¡± StoneMason said. ¡°Another week of training. Or two. Maybe.¡±

    ¡°Fucking DapperSeed,¡± she said.

    ¡°He means well,¡± I defended. Johnny was my only real friend, in-game or out of it.

    ¡°He¡¯s your friend. Where is he now? Spamming notes we¡¯ll never see because we¡¯ll be out of the game. We need our fourth!¡±

    She might be right. I¡¯d turned off the map. The next wave of undead dogs came around the corner. Somehow the boss had summoned two more despite being chased by our hound pack. At the rate his health was dropping, we were screwed.

    ¡°Going down fighting,¡± StoneMason said.

    ¡°Last stand bonus. It¡¯s that or lose more stats,¡± Rose added.

    They were talking about one of the game mechanics. Resigning to fate and simply dying came with a larger hit to everyone¡¯s stats upon death. If we, the three of us, struggled hard enough, we might not lose much when we were able to log back in a day later. A day in reality, not the four in-game that came with weird time compression.

    Rose continued, ¡°I may be starting over, but it¡¯s a bitch to do all this from scratch.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to cuss,¡± I said and hated myself instantly. My mom was long gone but what little advice I remembered had stuck with me.

    ¡°You¡¯re not my dad,¡± she responded.

    StoneMason snorted.

    The enemies reached the halfway point between us and the house. I failed to cast [Branch of Healing] again but got a small window pop-up that was brushed aside. Status windows during a fight would lead to death even faster. With my other hand, I grabbed a clump of dirt and pebbles to throw.

    Right then, when we were ready to give our last stand, is when one of the other groups started screaming. What they screamed, I couldn¡¯t say. The tone was a mix between gibberish and some sort of taunt. It sounded like they may have been insulting all the monsters¡¯ mothers.

    ¡°Is that?¡± Rose paused as her face scrunched. ¡°Are they coming to kill steal?¡±

    The dogs, which had been charging at us, were infuriated. They all spun in place, digging grooves into the fouled earth with their legs and tumbling over each other in the rush to attack the newest group.

    ¡°One of the other parties,¡± StoneMason responded and pointed. ¡°Look at Johnny¡¯s notes.¡±

    ¡°Too lazy,¡± she said.

    StoneMason relaxed and stepped back. His large head swiveled side to side multiple times. He shrugged and poked the air.

    ¡°Says baited. Dapper baited them. Let them take the small fries. Go for the boss!¡± He pulled out a much more sensible stick and charged for the fleeing hunchback.

    I swallowed a lump and poked my interface to bring up the map. Johnny had a note on our group map. It read [Hah] followed by [Suckers], [DS is best!], [50g plz]. Our fourth member had done something useful by luring more people our way during the boss fight. Even if it cost us a share of the loot, it was still better than in-game dying.

    ¡°Pigs, pigs, pigs!¡± the other Travelers shouted.

    ¡°Go,¡± Rose told me.

    I finally regenerated enough mana for another heal, which meant my earlier poor calculations had been off. I kept my foot in the water and hoped to get enough for a second heal. The bar went up too slow for my liking.

    We were lucky that every other creature had been distracted. The boss by healthy dogs and the unhealthy dogs by other Travelers. Their party landed on the wave of undead dogs. I debated tossing a lightning bolt once there was enough mana, to stun them all and get points, but the game would probably give me a [Backstabber] trait. It had been bad enough to suggest StoneMason lure dogs to the prior, now dead, group.

    ¡°Cats, cats, cats!¡± they shouted.

    It must have been a taunt. The dogs were being easily distracted by the other group. A mage wearing three eyepatches on one side screamed while waving a burning gauntlet. His partners had flames on their weapons. That didn¡¯t look like a low Rank ability.

    StoneMason struggled to catch up to the boss but stumbled. Shadows of dogs danced around as the boss continued to flee.

    ¡°Stop it! No fetch. Go play somewhere else,¡± the boss said.

    A burst of flame scattered the shadows. I turned and noted two more undead had been murdered. There were five people but none of the others looked that well put together. Not that I was one to talk with my foot in a hole.

    ¡°Off with their heads!¡± they shouted in unison and lifted their weapons to the sky before turning, as an oddly well-coordinated unit, to the remaining undead. We had half a minute, tops, to murder the boss.

    My head wasn¡¯t in the game. I gave up on my mess filled hole and ran for the boss, throwing my mud ball ahead of me. It missed and hit one of the friendly dogs. StoneMason threw his weapon, managing to get the stick between the fleeing boss¡¯ legs. The misshapen boy stumbled and fell with his arms spread wide.

    ¡°Nooo! Mommy,¡± he said in a squeaky shrill. He immediately whaled on the ground with his fists. Rose scooped up the lantern he¡¯d dropped and a second later the area went dark, save for the mansion lights and the fire mage¡¯s latest spell.

    StoneMason tackled the boss, I think. It was hard to tell. Lumps moved. Dogs snarled and barked. There were tearing sounds. The giant cried and hammered the ground. I could make out the health bars for Rose and StoneMason, they were dimmed because of our reduced visibility but our tank wouldn¡¯t last long.

    ¡°Mommy!¡± he whimpered. I twitched. People in pain shouted for their parents when it had grown bad enough. It didn¡¯t matter how old they were or how long their parents had been deceased.

    ¡°Mommmmmyyyyy,¡± he wailed as StoneMason¡¯s bar continued to plummet.

    Something in the mansion screamed back. A booming sound that shook the landscape. It reminded me of artillery fire, but this fantasy world wouldn¡¯t have those kinds of shells.

    I had a single heal spell. One damn attempt to put together our tank and hope he outlasted the thrashing damage piling on him. By the time I reached them, his health had almost hit ten percent. The bar flashed. I grabbed the largest lump of flesh I could find and traced through [Branch of Healing].

    ¡°Ducks, ducks, ducks!¡± the other group shouted.

    They ran around. Flames lit up farther away from us. Either they hadn¡¯t noticed the boss or didn¡¯t care once we dog-piled it. Something else exploded in the mansion and walls rattled. Our yard lit briefly, and I saw a mess of dogs tearing into the creature.

    It sounded worse than it looked. Or maybe it looked worse than it sounded. I couldn¡¯t tell if my healing spell had done anything. StoneMason¡¯s bar hadn¡¯t moved an inch.

    ¡°Pigs, pigs, pigs!¡± came the faint voices in the distance. Then nothing.

    We stayed quiet a few minutes, waiting to see if anything else would happen. Only the sound of steady labored breathing filled the air. Mine maybe, I couldn¡¯t tell for sure. Darkness had finished setting in and we played by the light of stars and moon. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to like this,¡± StoneMason said.

    ¡°He¡¯s a doctor. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s seen worse.¡±

    ¡°Probably. Doesn¡¯t mean I like it. Continue tends to give me¡ªdetailed graphics.¡±

    I put a hand toward the source of noise and cast my spell again. Green light flared, and StoneMason¡¯s bar went back up. There were messages, but I ignored them as everything wrong in the world assaulted my senses.

    It was the rot. Not simply from the dogs but the boss. A smell of fecal matter as he died and everything slid out his butt. In reality, the body didn¡¯t break down that fast. Muscles took a bit more time to loosen up. Colons didn¡¯t just release everything at high speeds. However, real world studies didn¡¯t involve the effects of undead flesh and decay speeds.

    The healthy dogs around us grew quieter. Either the pack had completed what it cared to and started to fade into the darkness of the manor, or they were going back to the tree to lay down. I didn¡¯t turn to figure it out.

    ¡°We clear?¡± StoneMason asked in a whisper.

    ¡°Other team¡¯s gone, I think.¡± Rose¡¯s voice came from over my shoulder. Light flared as she brought out the lantern. It lit the area and my eyes drifted immediately to the boss.

    The boss looked almost human. Smaller. Rail thin. With a hole in his stomach that had entrails coming out in ribbons of flesh. I felt sick but had nothing left in my virtual stomach. Video game gore. A kid who had been twisted by whatever undead magic rampaged over this place. I wondered, briefly, if I could have cured the boss like we did those dogs. How many spells would it have taken?

    I stood slowly, ignoring the squelching sound. StoneMason grunted and stood.

    Rose stepped ahead of me. Her bare feet couldn¡¯t feel any better about stepping around in this mess than mine. Everything was so goddamn gross. Maybe being a [Druid] gave me unnatural sensitivity.

    ¡°You okay?¡± Rose asked.

    ¡°No,¡± StoneMason and I responded at the same time.

    ¡°My side hurts,¡± he continued.

    ¡°My brain hurts more,¡± I said while rubbing my temples. ¡°I just want a damn drink. All this bullshit and killing virtual kids just to get drunk. I miss the old games where everything was on a screen and I didn¡¯t have to loot by digging through an actual dead body.¡±

    ¡°You must get rough feedback. I just get a loot interface and the system does the rest,¡± Rose said.

    ¡°Sounds nice,¡± StoneMason added.

    Rose shrugged. ¡°Paths help. My prior self had all sorts of quick ways to loot. I used to party with a guy who could run through a field of dead and barely touch anything. He¡¯d come out the other end with all the gold.¡±

    ¡°He had a looting skill that focused on gold?¡± StoneMason asked.

    ¡°It was neat. But different Paths are more vicarial in their visuals, or so I¡¯m told.¡±

    That was it. The Paths made a difference. Not only that, what we¡¯d seen in real life seemed to make a difference as well. Gore factors changed depending on play style. Over the course of twelve characters I¡¯d noticed that what I saw wasn¡¯t always the same. A dead rat on my [Priest] was a detached thing, as if the body didn¡¯t matter. A dead rat on the [Warrior] was a pulpy blood strewn mess that needed to be bashed some more. The [Druid] must be making me see the unnatural angle of these tainted creatures.

    ¡°Class aside, a drink would help,¡± I said.

    ¡°You that big of a lush?¡±

    I shrugged away Rose¡¯s question.

    ¡°Any loot?¡± Rose asked.

    StoneMason bent over the boss. ¡°Pants. Dirty. Need to be cleaned. Watch. Points somewhere. Compass watch?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have an identify skill do you? Friday doesn¡¯t either. Useless.¡±

    ¡°Johnny will know,¡± I said.

    ¡°And charge us.¡± She was right. Johnny would demand a share of the profits. He might also turn up with items of better value than other people. His [Treasure Hunter] skill worked wonders.

    ¡°Speaking of Dapper. Where is he?¡± Stone asked.

    ¡°Follow the notes,¡± I said.

    Johnny always left notes when he grouped with people. We¡¯d been commenting on them before, and during our fight Johnny had clearly been busy. I brought up the map and checked. [Druid ++ here], [Basement], [Get staff & this]. The last note had been placed on the map along with a half dozen pins highlighting a route for us to follow.

    I couldn¡¯t wrap my brain around what had happened. He knew [Druid]s were great here? He¡¯d planned this? Johnny never seemed like the planning sort. Most of his schemes were a step or two deep, nothing more, nothing less. Had he decided on coming here after finding me, and knowing I wouldn¡¯t pick a priest as a healer again? How could he even predict I¡¯d be a [Druid] though? There were [Field Medic]s, [Life Enchanter]s, [Body Mages], and god knew how many other mixed classes to fix up a person. [Druid] Path players were uncommon.

    StoneMason shuffled away. I almost wanted to look at the loot but there were more messages from Johnny worth caring about. The latest few read [Stole back stff]. [Quick. PD wants m ass]. Based on the bad spelling, Johnny was being chased and didn¡¯t have time to leave full notes.

    ¡°Why is he leaving chat messages on the map?¡± Rose asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t use party chat,¡± I answered. A system was available for groups to talk to each other. I simply didn¡¯t care. The health bars were enough for me. Noise, which is what I considered party chat to be, aggravated me. Plus, it ruined my drinking.

    She pursed her lips and glanced at StoneMason. The battle torn giant shrugged and winced. His fingers waggled in the air.

    That likely meant they¡¯d be talking behind my back in party. I didn¡¯t care. I¡¯d gotten over what other people thought of me during high school. They¡¯d called me the angry kid whose mom ran away, and dad who drank himself to sleep every night. One thing I learned in the service was everyone had a fucked up backstory.

    I came here to get away from all of it and simply play but Continue Online had a way of making me reflect. Beer though, beer solved that problem handily. We needed to finish our adventure, get the gold and my staff, then I could drink myself silly and unwind at long last.

 Session 7 â€“ Sleeping Dogs Lie

    Rose filled the silence with yammering. ¡°What do we do? We¡¯re third in the race. Two teams are gone which means we¡¯re last despite all those dogs. Guess they don¡¯t count for much to the ranking crystal. Loot¡¯s nice, but if we can get more gold to go with it, that would be better.¡±

    ¡°The staff. Dapper mentioned. It¡¯s for healing. Right, Friday?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, we should go get it. It¡¯ll probably double my effective rank.¡± The staff would help a lot with healing. It had a few minor enchants geared specifically for healing. It¡¯d come from a quest chain on my [Priest] version of Friday. I¡¯d made it up to Rank Six then had the game throw a Voice at me in some vision.

    I didn¡¯t want to admit that the whole [Legacy] system was kind of confusing. Some days I felt as if there were a dozen ways to trigger it. I could scream out loud, that I was ¡°Friday¡± who¡¯d slept with a princess. Then the game would go ¡°so you are¡± and I¡¯d suddenly have all that baggage. I could think about it too hard and that might trigger results too. Either action was like a sneaking doom.

    But I¡¯d discovered with the prior character that religion did not excite me at all. God had done no good in the real world despite all the crap I¡¯d seen. Video game Gods might be far more hands-on, but I didn¡¯t want to work with¡ªor around them. I¡¯d deleted my character after calmly hiding all my gear in a waterproof bag in the well.

    I¡¯d wanted to pick it up on this character, but Pile Driver beat me to it. If Johnny managed to steal it back that¡¯d be one problem solved. Especially since I¡¯d stashed a perfect quest item inside the staff. The longer Johnny held onto on my staff, the more likely he was to find the treasure, steal it, and try to turn it into more gold.

    It was an item I didn¡¯t want to sell¡ªever.

    ¡°Arcadia to Friday, you there?¡± Rose asked.

    I blinked and pulled myself out of dwelling on mistakes. The downside about a game like Continue Online, is that the moment I stopped paying attention, things slipped away. They¡¯d probably been talking for a while before I tuned back in.

    ¡°Friday?¡± Rose asked again.

    ¡°Here. Give me a second to check my notices. You should too. We probably got something useful from all that.¡±

    ¡°I cleared mine.¡±

    ¡°Yes. That,¡± StoneMason said.

    I shook my head, traced out a [Branch of Healing] spell on Rose and gestured to the mansion. They¡¯d lead the way while I cleared out my notices. A few told me I¡¯d gained some basic stats. [Knowledge] stayed the same but my [Druid] Path went up a Rank. It came with slight bonuses to healing, reductions in mana costs for [Nature] spells, and [Animal Understanding] jumped up a Rank.

    That meant nothing aside from getting a vibe on how creatures felt. I could look at a bird and hear stupid bits of information like ¡°Food. Food. Food.¡± probably in the same chant as the party from earlier. I turned that bit of interface annoyance off. Then flicked it back on, then off, and finally found an option that let me keep the [Animal Understanding] skill on for anything deemed ¡°important.¡±

    ¡°Anything good?¡± Rose asked as I flicked fingers through the air to wave off pop-ups.

    ¡°Natural Vibe went up. I think we can use it to feel where the nastiest part of the area is. Maybe even to find more monsters before the other teams do. Or another boss, after I get my staff.¡± Walking into another boss encounter without the extra abilities would be digital suicide.

    ¡°Natural Vibe? Is that like a boss radar?¡±

    ¡°Kind of. Its¡ª¡± I paused and read the text yet again. It confused me because the skill didn¡¯t match anything I¡¯d had on other characters. ¡°Similar to Stony¡¯s thing. When I¡¯m wearing unprocessed clothes and stuff, I can get a feeling for the wrongness of an area. I guess. Or wearing no shoes.¡±

    I still hadn¡¯t put them back on. They were originally put away as part of my traveling by water spell and hadn¡¯t been re-equipped. If the game wanted me to play without shoes, then I¡¯d use them as projectiles to hit annoying people.

    ¡°Passive intuition abilities are a bitch,¡± Rose said. ¡°Wrong half the time. Don¡¯t work in the heat of battle. Can you imagine the Voices shoving bits of information into your head but not exactly in a way that¡¯s clear? I¡¯ll stick to boxes and my own thoughts.¡±

    ¡°Sounds gross,¡± StoneMason said.

    ¡°It¡¯s not my first intuition ability. Johnny has a ton of them. Ask him some time, it¡¯s how he smells money. He told me it¡¯s like smelling mint ice cream. The more gold something has, the stronger the smell. Treasure is like citrus.¡±

    ¡°All smells?¡± StoneMason asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s how most intuitions work. They use a sense besides sight to key you into the neat stuff,¡± Rose said. ¡°The Voices want people to use more than their eyes. Which is great because out there in reality it¡¯s like all we have is sight and hearing. The internet, ads following us around stores from speakers. I like being reminded there¡¯s more to life than digital screens.¡±

    ¡°While inside a game,¡± StoneMason said.

    I snorted.

    We reached the building. Our path didn¡¯t go through the roof or a window like Johnny had. We took the well abused pathway all those dogs had come from. Rose scouted ahead, searching through desks and corners. StoneMason stood next to me with a stick the size of his arm, which was the size of my body. Inside we went, where Rose continued to explore the corners. She found stuff, I didn¡¯t want to know what, in some of the corners that had clearly been messy kennels for undead.

    Then she surprised me with a shout.

    ¡°Holy hell,¡± Rose uttered from one of the corner rooms. ¡°Puppies!¡±

    ¡°In here?¡± StoneMason asked. ¡°Are they undead?¡±

    We walked into a room with crates piled awkwardly around the entrance. It looked as though this area had been used as a storage wing for the house, mixed with a home for the dogs. There might have been real valuables in here once, and the dogs might have originally been put here to guard them. Then the place turned evil and undead.

    ¡°If they¡¯re undead. Friday can heal,¡± StoneMason said.

    That reminded me to check my bars to see if enough time had passed. My reduced mana notice had cleared away sometime during the battle. It had only been a restriction for an hour, but that hour had sucked. Knowing my mana had come back meant more to me than the knowledge there were healthy puppies somewhere in the dungeon. Dogs and I didn¡¯t get along. Animals in general were frustrating. I¡¯d been attacked by too many while in the service and trying to help fetch people in the ambulance.

    Low noises came from the room. I stepped inside as StoneMason waved forward. ¡°Hey, Friday. You should see if one of your druid things works on them. They keep growling at me.¡±

    The room itself was a mess too. Broken crates. Stuffing torn to shreds and scattered all over the floor. Wood with chew marks.

    ¡°So, they¡¯re not puppies,¡± I said.

    ¡°Okay, like four months. Maybe five?¡± Rose shrugged. ¡°They¡¯re not full grown. They¡¯re not closed eyed wiggly babies. That¡¯s still puppies?¡±

    ¡°I guess,¡± I said. It was the dog version of a seven year old. They were children dogs, which was somehow worse than regular dogs.

    StoneMason nodded. ¡°Old enough to be weaned. Perfect for training. We could all try to get a pet. I¡¯ve never had one before.¡±

    ¡°Me either,¡± Rose said.

    There were five ugly monsters with the same general colors. Most dogs I knew of had patterned fur, these creatures were all one solid color halfway between gold and a pallid white, if such a coloration was possible. It made me sick to look at them.

    ¡°They don¡¯t seem very healthy,¡± Rose said.

    They shuffled slowly. Their tiny noses digging into corners of the room they¡¯d been left in. Two huddled together. One lay quietly, eyes closed and chest barely moving. Obviously they weren¡¯t doing well.

    ¡°Given where we are, did you think they¡¯d be healthy?¡± I asked. ¡°And what are the odds we¡¯d come across them and have the ability to heal them?¡±

    ¡°You should cast the spell,¡± StoneMason said. ¡°I doubt bandages. Would work on these.¡±

    ¡°I could. Then the game would give me a chance at a companion pet.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s neat, you should do that. Maybe you could get an entire pack.¡± Rose jumped in place and clapped excitedly. ¡°Druid and dogs. You could command them in battle to do the damage for you. And even resurrect them if they¡¯re companions. Or resummon them.¡±

    The idea had merit, except for one small fact. I¡¯d be deleting this character if it got too annoying. Leaving companions attached to a character who suddenly didn¡¯t exist fell under ¡°cruel and unusual.¡± It used to be okay in the old games during my childhood because those people weren¡¯t aware of time passing. They didn¡¯t know anything when the game world hadn¡¯t loaded.

    Continue Online didn¡¯t operate like that. When you left for too long, the Locals remarked on it. They got upset. They turned bitter. I¡¯d had it happen once and swore off anything that stunk like a companion ever since.

    So, I said, ¡°I don¡¯t do companions.¡±

    ¡°Gross, who¡¯d do a dog?¡±

    ¡°I know a guy,¡± StoneMason said while glaring up thoughtfully. He shuddered.

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant,¡± I said and crossed my arms. The two puppies huddled together started to fade slowly, as if they didn¡¯t have the strength to keep standing. It made me sick.

    ¡°Yes, it is,¡± StoneMason responded with his blank baby face. He acted as though he didn¡¯t know he was arguing with a man twice his age, but he totally knew.

    My throat felt dry.

    ¡°But they¡¯re just puppies. You need to heal them, we could take them to the pack outside,¡± Rose said.

    ¡°If they¡¯re still there and some Traveler hasn¡¯t killed them for points. Those guys will kill anyone to get ahead. And that would put me further away from Johnny and the staff and being able to heal better. And Johnny¡¯s messages are getting annoying.¡±

    [Hllep] one said. [PD butthurt] another read. I flicked the badly written messages away. Johnny would survive. He was the player equivalent of a cockroach.

    ¡°Oh,¡± StoneMason said.

    ¡°Heal them,¡± Rose demanded.

    I had regenerated enough mana to toss out a few heals, sure. After this I¡¯d need to stick my head in a bucket of water and breathe in to regenerate anything fast enough. The feeling of drowning would be a bonus.

    My shoulders lifted with a deep breath. Cynicism served no purpose. It didn¡¯t even make me feel better. Beer, virtual or not, would put all my problems to one side until Monday and the week started over again. Then I¡¯d rush another dozen people to the emergency room, watch people die before they made it, and if I was really lucky, I¡¯d get a handful of helicopter moms upset over their child¡¯s sniffles. I didn¡¯t know which was worse.

    But I could heal the puppies. After that, nature would take its course. That brought me back to the stupid quest text. Which was better, to plant a seed and let it grow, or to stay and tend the garden? The same question could be said of puppies. It didn¡¯t matter, doctors didn¡¯t get to be invested in any one person¡¯s life. At least, not in my experience.

    ¡°Get them together. I¡¯ll do two heals. If you have food, that should help. Afterward, we should rescue Johnny.¡± Getting the staff would be just as good. Part of me would be okay if Johnny died and I got my item back, since it had been his fault I lost it in the first place. Part of me liked Johnny. Part of me wanted to body slam him from orbit. It¡¯s how I knew we were friends, or as close as I had anymore.

    Rose cooed while grouping the dogs together. They were so weak they didn¡¯t even bark. One growled and attempted to back up but the room they¡¯d used as a den didn¡¯t have enough space for a real escape. It was hardly bigger than a walk-in closet.

    ¡°Think this is a reward?¡± StoneMason asked. ¡°For killing all the undead dogs?¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t make sense. Might be a hidden event.¡± Rose shrugged and pushed the pile of puppies closer together.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°I doubt it¡¯s either. I bet if we left the room they¡¯d be full grown and undead in a day. Then there¡¯d be more, and more, and more. Where do you think all those dogs we fought came from?¡± My fingers traced the [Branch of Healing] spell over the grouping.

    They yipped and nipped at my fingers. Their jaws were too weak to do real damage. A flash appeared showing the [Toughness] icon. Being bitten by puppies didn¡¯t mean I¡¯d grown stronger but it would increase the skill if I survived being nibbled. [Animal Understanding] flashed as well but didn¡¯t increase. I liked this style of interface the most. I could make it so the game simply flashed icons as stuff increased or worked, but it wouldn¡¯t flood my eyes with +1 to [Annoyed] over and over every time something happened.

    I traced it again and took note that the [Branch of Healing] spell also flashed its icon. It should be working toward an elevated version of the spell after casting it in real battle situations. Skills were fun that way. They grew into new stuff.

    I briefly toyed with the idea of trying to trace both the [Branch of Healing] spell and the [Tiny Lightning Bolt] to see if that¡¯d form a ranged version of the spell. Knowing my luck, the damage and healing would cancel each other out and I¡¯d get a green sparkling spell with a short stun and terrible aim.

    ¡°They look better already,¡± Rose said. She reached for one of the dogs, but they backed away from her as a pack and moved closer to me. Soon my lap was swarmed by barely functional puppies seeking refuge. They were even younger seeming after the healing. Able to walk, able to bite and nose around, but they¡¯d do a lot of growing in the next few months, assuming they survived.

    ¡°They¡¯re better, and we need to save Johnny from Pile Driver¡¯s group. They can¡¯t come with us,¡± I insisted.

    Rose¡¯s face twisted and for a moment I thought she might stab me. ¡°No. They¡¯re babies. They need us.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re video game baby dogs. They¡¯re virtual. They¡¯ll be repurposed to something else if you leave them. We leave the room and in two days they¡¯ll be fully grown and ready to eat someone¡¯s face.¡±

    I¡¯d had to correct myself. Video game dogs didn¡¯t follow real world animal timelines. These wouldn¡¯t take months.

    ¡°You¡¯re a shit druid,¡± Rose said.

    I sat there with a lap full of dogs. They fought each other for the most comfortable spot while I tried not to wince as their dull claws dug into my pants. Rose berating me without even attempting to understand my reasoning was aggravating. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that when she¡¯d been in diapers, I was out getting shot at. She was a child.

    Rose kept going, oblivious to my attempts at restraint. ¡°I¡¯m serious. You should care about animals! Nature! Trees and all that crap. But you barely tried while planting those seeds. You barely tried when foraging and made DapperSeed do all the work. Now you want to leave puppies behind to die. You don¡¯t care about anything.¡±

    ¡°I care. I care more than you might think.¡± I was shit at dealing with people without a drink in me.

    ¡°Bullshit,¡± Rose said.

    ¡°Guys,¡± StoneMason cut in.

    ¡°Are we being attacked?¡± Rose snapped.

    ¡°No, but¡­¡± StoneMason¡¯s words died as Rose glared at him.

    ¡°Then shut up. I¡¯m telling this guy he sucks as a druid,¡± she said.

    It was my turn anyway. ¡°I¡¯m crappy at a lot of things. But I¡¯m smart enough not to take on responsibilities I won¡¯t be around to fulfill. I restart characters a lot. Think about your old characters. Both of you. You deleted and started over. Don¡¯t tell me you didn¡¯t have companions on them. Don¡¯t tell me you didn¡¯t have Local friends or Travelers who you knew.¡±

    I waved at them in annoyance. The puppies yipped and chased my arms in awkward stumbles.

    ¡°I¡¯ve done this more than once. The others we¡¯re against, probably some of them are re-rolls too. All that shit you left out there depended on you. What happens when you delete this character too? If I take these puppies, raise them, and delete again, then these dogs are left alone.¡±

    Event!

    Nature versus Nurture II

    What¡¯s better, a tended garden or a wild one? This is a question which druids across the world argue over. Is it better to be a caretaker, or know that in order for one life to live, another must die? There is a circle to existence, after all. Does saving a life make you responsible for it?

    As a [Druid], you¡¯ve argued for the natural path, that is, each life must strive on its own. This runs counter to your actions of half-hearted nurture, that is, you¡¯ve saved lives that would have otherwise ended. Which then, is the true path?

    [Nurture] skill gained!

    [Nature] skill demonstrated

    +2 [Depth] added

    System Notice!

    You¡¯ve acknowledge that Friday had prior lives. Their [Legacy] await your calling. Declaring yourself an heir to those past Fridays comes with ample rewards and their unfinished business.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± I cursed and tightened my eyes.

    ¡°Legacy trigger?¡± Rose asked.

    I nodded and bit my lip. It was an annoying system that probably triggered from my brief speech about prior companions. Friday the Second had one. A sprite with blaring gossamer wings who followed me around since freeing it from a cage. We¡¯d actually been locked in together and it didn¡¯t really matter except I think that the sprite didn¡¯t have any other friends.

    That had been almost six months ago as real life went. Game time wise, two years. It probably found another Traveler to glom onto. These puppies would as well. Heck, one of the other groups running around could bond with them and come out of the dungeon with a dog pal.

    ¡°You can¡¯t avoid them forever. The game¡¯s set up to carry over everything between the five different programs. It all ties together.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to deal with them. That¡¯s the whole point of restarting,¡± I said.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to commit and stop deleting yourself,¡± Rose said. ¡°Even I know that this¡±¡ªshe gestured to herself with her hands¡ª¡°is only temporary. Eventually I¡¯ll have to reclaim the old character eventually and deal with the problems.¡±

    I sighed. Trust a young and dumb child to think life was that easy. As if we could simply go all in on this sort of life and never look back. She didn¡¯t even care that she¡¯d deleted her own character because she expected to go back to all that drama.

    ¡°Whatever,¡± I said. It seemed easier to cave instead of sitting here and arguing with children. We were only here for a few more hours then we¡¯d go our separate ways.

    A half hour later we walked through the rundown mansion with five puppies following behind us. I had no clue what to do with them after tonight. I¡¯d be forced to log off soon and be out of the game for four and a half real days. That was almost two weeks in-game. Puppies would starve by then. Even if I had some magical [Druid] ability to do¡­ something.

    I racked my brain for abilities. Most [Druid] knowledge I had was second hand while drunk. Maybe we could drop them off in town and kennel them. Other players might want to buy them as consolation prizes. I¡¯d have to make sure the people taking the puppies actually cared because Rose seemed ready to stab this character, and I wanted to eke out a few more drunken weekends before re-rolling.

    ¡°Maybe you can teach them tricks,¡± Rose suggested.

    ¡°That would take hours,¡± I whispered back.

    We were still in monster territory, but Rose¡¯s mind wasn¡¯t in the game anymore. Once we¡¯d encountered the young dogs, she didn¡¯t care about anything else. Going somewhere, killing monsters, it was secondary to adorable.

    ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted a puppy,¡± she said.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got five. Take them. Free me from this burden of cuteness.¡±

    There weren¡¯t too many monsters inside. The other groups must have cleared them. Their points weren¡¯t increasing that fast. It might have been that we had too many people here at once and simply wiped out everything.

    ¡°That¡¯s funny,¡± StoneMason said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll let me into a bar with five dogs,¡± I added another point against the puppies.

    ¡°You¡¯d get free drinks. Maybe women. Dogs are great conversation starters.¡±

    I stared at the giant man-boy and blinked slowly.

    ¡°Really, guys?¡± Rose frowned briefly then poked her head into the next room. Nothing screamed so we were in the clear. I hoped we¡¯d go faster but named locations often liked to surprise unwary players. The minute we started running, a ton of monsters would pour out of the walls to attack us.

    ¡°You probably could use a drink. Or ten,¡± he said.

    The next room was empty too. Rose stopped and waved a hand through the air. By now, I knew the movement was likely her checking the map and messages left behind by Johnny.

    ¡°DapperSeed¡¯s notes are out of date already.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been almost an hour. I assume the other groups have rogues or trappers who could have cleared some of the items Johnny marked. We could speed up and try to intercept Johnny¡¯s path.¡±

    I stared at the map, glanced down both hallways in this building of endless rooms, and anchored myself against the map markers. One of the best things about being in a group with Johnny is that none of us needed to rely on our own mapping skills. He had all the support roles, besides healing, covered. He also charged players an arm and a leg if given the chance. I suspected he had an ability that let him turn gold into bonuses for skills like [Lockpicking].

    It might explain how he was constantly broke despite all of his schemes and thievery.

    Rose opened another door, and dove into the room. Something squished. Our points went up by a measly one, leaving us dead last.

    ¡°Anything else?¡± StoneMason asked.

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°Fuck it. I¡¯m running to Dapper,¡± StoneMason said. Off he went, down the hallways, ignoring all the other doors.

    ¡°He¡¯s the tank.¡± Rose ran off next.

    ¡°But¡ª¡± They were gone before I could finish telling them that a gaggle of puppies might not be able to keep up. I glanced at the pack following me then back down the hall where the others had gone. Three dogs cocked their heads at me. The other two were trying to bite each other on the nose.

    ¡°Go!¡± I said to them.

    Two stared at the ground. One stood and wagged its stubby tail. I rolled my eyes and jogged after my party. The puppies kept up surprisingly well, but I¡¯d lost track of Rose and StoneMason. Their footsteps echoed in the halls ahead of me then faded.

    I stopped. Small bodies piled into my legs. Their nails scraped along the floor as a few spun out and immediately fell over nibbling each other. After a quick count, I found I still had all five.

    We¡¯d stopped in a sort of kitchen wing. The mansion had too many rooms but this one might have food. I searched for signs of dead monsters, food, and reviewed Johnny¡¯s notes for the area. A few notes required gold to get more details. I scanned them, and looked toward the puppies¡¯ location.

    ¡°No! Bad. Trap,¡± I shouted at one of the puppies. The dog in question halted and turned its head toward me while yawning. ¡°There¡¯s a trap in there.¡±

    The dog yipped, wagged its tail and circled around. He went for the cabinet with a bit more care. I hoped that meant the virtual dog understood me.

    ¡°Trap. Don¡¯t stick your nose into it.¡±

    The young dog didn¡¯t stop.

    I leaned over and pulled the squirming creature away and put him into the pile of his litter mates. They mobbed him.

    ¡°Stay. Watch.¡±

    Brooms were in a corner. I picked one up and eyed the end. It¡¯d serve as a staff, which I could use. The other broom would be my trap trigger. That¡¯s when I noticed the pop-up that apparently didn¡¯t fit into all the system filters I¡¯d set up.

    Event Notice!

    Dog-Gone-It

    Or is that Gone-Dogged? We¡¯ll figure it out later. For now, five pups follow you around. They look up to you as a one of their own. Remember that nature versus nurture argument we were having? It¡¯s like that. Only with dogs. Nurture them. Or abandon them and let nature take its course. Either way, what you do will shape their lives.

    There¡¯s no reward for this one. There¡¯s no quest. It¡¯s simply reality. What you do or don¡¯t do has consequences. Such as deleting a character.

    My stomach dropped. The game knew. The fucking game knew what I¡¯d been doing and how I¡¯d been solving my problems. It judged me for those actions and wanted me to care about puppies of all things. I found it weird but didn¡¯t have a clue on how to deal with it right now. Especially since my team had run off to find Johnny, were in the middle of a shared dungeon in an effort to win prizes and glory.

    I wondered briefly about the nasty tone. Maybe I¡¯d read too much into the text, but it felt snide. It read snide. I put the message to the side and saved it along with my [Litigating Lightning] text. As I moved the message, the puppy I¡¯d relocated broke away from his family and ran for the spot Johnny had labeled as a trap.

    My mouth opened enough to utter a word that never came. The dog¡¯s nose poked into a cupboard and opened it. I heard a yelp saw the puppy fall to one side as a bang went off. Dog food scattered everywhere across the room. Five dogs stopped their fighting and chased the edibles, yipping the whole while.

    I blinked. There were no other options. My face hadn¡¯t melted in a fiery doom. Losing health to the skittering mess of kibble and puppy claws barely phased me.

    ¡°Shush,¡± I said.

    They ignored me and barked at everything. When they weren¡¯t barking, they were busy crunching food that could have come from any store.

    ¡°If we¡¯re not quiet, monsters will come.¡±

    They kept barking. My fingers brought up menus as I tried to figure out where my party members were. Neither of them had markers, which probably had to do with missing skills. In a few days of being grouped in a dungeon, they¡¯d pick up abilities to increase group communication. We weren¡¯t there, none of us.

    ¡°Really, guys?¡± I asked, unsure if I was upset with the dogs, my party, or myself for joining this expedition.

    Quitting would be one way out. I could take an ¡°oops¡± bathroom break and let everyone else deal with the fallout, but that didn¡¯t seem right. Being annoyed and leaving was an option but only after the current task finished.

    I opened party chat and sighed.

    The others were talking. Johnny, Rose, StoneMason. There were walls of text. I couldn¡¯t take the time to roam through it all and didn¡¯t want to. Somewhere in there would be words about me and I had no desire to know what they thought. Peoples¡¯ opinions were like buttholes, in that everyone had one and only useless crap resulted. My fingers were partway through a message when footsteps echoed down the hall.

    ¡°This is entirely too noisy,¡± a newcomer said, stepping in from one of the many branching rooms.

    I turned around. The four puppies backed over each other into a corner, shying away from our new visitor. The fifth had a pile of kibble in its front paws and chowed down. He remained oblivious to our potential enemy.

    ¡°You will need to quiet those mongrels immediately or they¡¯ll wake the missus.¡±

    The newest man was clearly some twisted undead butler. White nasty eyes, boils on his skin, and a hook nose that managed to turn up an extra notch. He didn¡¯t even look at me, but the puppies.

    ¡°Told you guys,¡± I said to the dogs.

    They whimpered and took turns barking. The fifth chewed on his meal.

    ¡°Shhh,¡± I said, knowing they wouldn¡¯t do any such thing. They¡¯d bark madly until the monster triggered and attempted to kill us all.

    ¡°No doubt you¡¯re one of these ruffians. Come to kill the missus and her children. It¡¯s a shame really. Every month we have to deal with your kind. Sneaking in. Barely understanding what we¡¯re trying to do here.¡±

    I rolled my eyes. This was a chatty person. It might lead to any number of events. There were lots of ways to play it. I could try to heal the butler and see if he turned happy. I could offer to simply take the puppies out. Or I could even try to kill him and rack up points. None of which would let me go get drunk in a bar without death or some stupid additional quest.

    ¡°Would you kindly go outside and dig yourself an appropriately sized hole to jump into?¡±

    The butler stepped closer. I couldn¡¯t tell if he was high level or weak. He got closer and kept looking down his nose at us. The dogs mostly. They crowded around my feet. Despite the fur, my toes felt like they were dripped in slime.

    Healing was my class. [Natural Vibe] gave me the impression he was sick. Deeply sick. Snot bubbled out his nose and popped, a situation he seemed content with.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got something right there,¡± I said, pointing to the grossness.

    He nodded and did nothing to wipe off the mess. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s all proper given the situation. Now, shall I escort you willingly to the field for burial, or shall I be forced to call the authorities? One requires significantly more cleaning and given the state of our staff at the moment, I¡¯d have to mop up your entrails myself.¡±

    ¡°Option two sounds disgusting. Option one?¡± I kept glancing at his icky nose. It was that or follow his hand to the torn up dead bodies lying around us. I¡¯d spent the entire trip following after Rose and StoneMason mostly ignoring the defeated creatures left behind by other players.

    ¡°Then turnabout, you mud dweller. Take these dogs with you. They can help dig.¡± The butler pointed at the doorway behind us.

    I finally found space to pull out cloth from my inventory. Normally they were used for barrooms to clean a table, but they served as snot rags. My hand brought it up. ¡°Yes, here¡¯s¡­ here¡¯s a tissue. If I could just¡­¡± I stalled while bringing the rag toward his nose.

    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± the butler asked. His head reared back, and he looked at me for the first time. I lifted the object to block his vision. ¡°This is highly irregular.¡±

    Five dogs barked in unison. The sound distracted the butler even more. By the time he pushed the cloth to one side, I had already traced out most of the [Branch of Healing] spell on his chest. My pointer finger pressed the final dot down and green energy flashed.

    I healed the undead butler.

 Session 8 â€“ A Grape Escape

    I traced out a second copy of the spell. The icon for my [Branch of Healing] notice shimmered gold then changed. My attention focused on the butler, to see if he¡¯d undergo the same changes as the dogs.

    Boils popped and folded back into normal skin. Their oozing puss vanished quickly. Vibrant green returned to once milky white eyes. The dogs bounced and spun in a circle around the transforming mansion minion.

    By the time he was done, I felt dirty about trying to clean him. His immaculate clothing would be tainted by even being near my muddy body, much less a bar rag. The hook-nose remained violently curved and he refused to look at me.

    ¡°Those belong outside or back in their room,¡± he said.

    ¡°I think you mean thanks for returning me to a normal human being and not some undead mucus monster.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Sadly, this status change is unlikely to last. It never does.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯ve been healed before.¡±

    ¡°And killed before. Death is disquieting and leaves me with gas. Now, please take your friends and leave so that I might await a proper gutting from someone who carries a blade.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± I paused for a moment and considered further responses. Healing him twice had made him go from full undead to human. He had a point though; this place was controlled by some spreading [Blight] effect. It also didn¡¯t make a lot of sense, because normally killing non-player characters, Locals, resulted in them dying forever.

    Sure, there were quest chains that might counter permanent death. Some places were stuck in time loops where everyone resurrected at midnight. I¡¯d been in one of those on a prior Friday. This place simply used undeath as a justification for recycling Locals into bosses.

    I still felt sick to my stomach, but the slime feeling had faded once this butler reverted to human. The surrounding room seemed a bit brighter. The closest window had less grease. I could keep spamming heals on monsters around here, but my mana would never be enough to counter this place.

    ¡°Is there something I could heal?¡±

    ¡°Ah. A bleeding heart out to set the world¡¯s problems right. You¡¯re simply not strong enough to take on the missus, her children, or the curse residing over this manor. It was set into motion by something far stronger than you could image.¡±

    My eyes fluttered. A stupid teenager might be affronted and think there were ways to overcome any obstacle through being clever. I knew this character had limits and I might not be strong enough to overcome them before deciding to reset.

    While Continue Online didn¡¯t have ¡°levels¡± in the classic sense, it still had Ranks which were a measurement of skills and player ability. If the machine said I was too weak to take on people, then they were probably right.

    ¡°I¡¯ve no desire to take on any sort of¡ª¡± I stopped and sighed deeply. ¡°Look. I¡¯ll have a staff soon that will probably double my healing. If this place has gold, I¡¯ll even come back next weekend and spam restoration spells until I¡¯m blue in the face.¡± Especially if it meant I wouldn¡¯t have to group up. Eventually [Branch of Healing] could become ranged. Or after I had a drink or ten, I¡¯d figure out a way to make it ranged.

    ¡°Spam? How delightfully barbarous. Regardless, there¡¯s no doubt in my mind that your services would cause confusion rather than solve the underlying issue. So, on your merry way. Take these dogs with you. Perhaps put them somewhere nice with a healthy tree.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want the dogs,¡± I insisted quickly.

    ¡°Ah. Well, since you¡¯ve rudely sent Fitzgerald to the underworld, no one else will care for them. Not even the missus. I¡¯m afraid they¡¯ll die without proper care and perhaps somewhere less, infested then here.¡±

    I narrowed my eyes and sniffed. Quest text popped up.

    Quest!

    All Dogs Go To Havens

    Five dogs follow you. Five dogs in need of a new home. Perhaps you know of a place where they might be sheltered from the horrors invading their current home? We bet you do. We bet you don¡¯t even need a hint. But here¡¯s one anyway. What would a [Druid] do?

    +3 [Divine Attention]!

    Rewards

    Perhaps, in time of need, a proper [Druid] could summon canine companions to help him.

    Failure

    Well. Nothing would change. Which is kind of sad.

    ¡°Do you have anything to drink in here?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Ah. Perhaps we do. Take the dogs out and I¡¯m sure I could find a drink suitable for one of your nature.¡±

    He said nature like other people said animal. It impressed me, so I nodded. The game popped up a quest accepted message and I remembered my earlier rant about companions. This whole nature versus nurture concept bugged me too. I put an ounce of thought into the problem and figured out the issue. I didn¡¯t like the idea of long term commitment, at all.

    But I couldn¡¯t leave someone stranded. These dogs would go full on undead minion. They¡¯d be chopped up by some other party roaming through here. Rose had been right in saying they were puppies and needed help. I didn¡¯t have to like it, but she¡¯d had a point.

    ¡°Deal. I¡¯ll find them a home. You throw in some booze for my time and sanity. We can meet here in a few weeks and I¡¯ll put you back together.¡±

    The butler reared his head back and gave me a once over. His nose wrinkled in disgust. Then he turned to the rest of the room and his nose twitched furiously. He pulled out a handkerchief and started working on the countertop, polishing away at a spot of grime that would never come out.

    ¡°Oh I do so hate when I¡¯m seeing the world through these eyes.¡±

    The puppies resumed eating every stray bit of kibble in the room. They chased the handkerchief as it fluttered across countertops. I almost wanted to ask the butler for more information, but it¡¯d probably be a sob story I already knew from too many other games and movies over the years.

    This place was cursed. When they were undead, the mess around them made sense, because it fit. When he was proper and healthy, this place felt wrong because it went against his current nature.

    I stared at my feet briefly then opened the map. There were notes on there from Johnny. [Friday?] repeated over and over along with [Help!].

    The butler reminded me of patients I¡¯d worked with in the real world. They were stuck in a self-abusive pattern. Something would be wrong that caused their physical body to break. They¡¯d heal, and a few months later need another ride to the hospital. This place, this rot filled manor and the players roaming it, would send the butler through this pattern over and over.

    Then I had a happier thought. Maybe if we cured this place, there¡¯d be more than a single bottle of liquor. After that thought I felt like clicking my heels. I had my own personal adventure that didn¡¯t involve drama, yet. To unveil the secrets of [Widow¡¯s Children] and break the curse once and for all. There were surely good rewards for solving a reoccurring problem within [Arcadia]. Skills and stuff that youngsters like them enjoyed, and maybe I¡¯d feel like I¡¯d made a difference before needing to re-roll.

    ¡°However, I know you Traveler types. Many refuse to let sleeping dogs lie, as it were. Be aware that this curse, should you choose to try to remove it, was placed by a very angry Voice. To challenge it means defying our world¡¯s gods.¡±

    I shrugged. Fictional gods didn¡¯t scare me. They bothered me. Annoyed me. Filled my resting head with virtual images that weren¡¯t real but come Monday I¡¯d be back at work and they¡¯d be stuck in here messing with some other poor sap.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go, squad.¡±

    The dogs yipped in unison, tripped over each other, and followed me out the door toward whatever mess Johnny had gotten into.

    ¡°Good luck, sir,¡± the butler said behind us. ¡°You¡¯ll be needing it.¡±

    As we stepped away, his voice twisted into something darker sounding. Grimier, like when we¡¯d first met him.

    I sighed. Two full heals and he¡¯d only fought back the curse for the span of a conversation. I counted myself lucky that he¡¯d not presented himself as an aggressive house member.

    A puppy yipped at me. I glanced down to see they¡¯d formed a weird sort of line. In the front was a leader, who watched me with one ear half cocked. Three more behind him ambled together in a pack, tripping over each other. The fifth kept getting distracted.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m not naming you.¡±

    The lead puppy barked, and I would have bet money on him frowning.

    ¡°I¡¯m bad with names. It¡¯d have to be¡­ your traits or something. If one of you is a scout, we call you Scout. If one of you eats everything, you can be¡­¡± I faded off in confusion.

    There were too many dog names in stories, but I hadn¡¯t read much as a child. Most of my knowledge came second hand through video games. Fenris was a big monster boss in a lot of them. These puppies did not seem like monster bosses. Snowball, Stupid, and Sniffles were also out. Dad had wanted to get a dog as part of his halfhearted attempts to be a parent, but it never happened.

    I¡¯d served with a man who worked with a bomb sniffing dog. They¡¯d named him Lucky, but that felt too common.

    The thoughts went on and on as I warmed to the idea of having canine companions. Especially if they could be tied to a [Druid] ability where they were stored somewhere safe while I was offline or if they came close to death. I think that bothered me the most, knowing a virtual pet could die in front of me.

    ¡°Tell you what. You guys¡ª¡± Two dogs barked at me and I got the feeling they were disagreeing with being called ¡°guys¡± probably because of my skill. ¡°Okay. You all.¡± I paused and waited. No yips corrected me. ¡°You all survive tonight. The next¡­ two hours. After that I¡¯ll take you to the place where I planted my trees and we¡¯ll see what happens.¡±

    The lead dog barked.

    ¡°And I¡¯ll see about giving you real names. Something suitable.¡±

    The five barked excitedly and ran off.

    I smiled, despite my general dislike for Continue Online¡¯s desire to shove relationships in my face. Worst case scenario, I¡¯d re-roll this character after finding someone to take care of the dogs. Easy enough. It didn¡¯t have to be a complete ditch like I¡¯d done on prior characters.

    ¡°I could be Father Friday,¡± I said to myself then sighed. Being a parent didn¡¯t suit me. Taking care of youngsters, canine or otherwise, was not a skill I had. Heck, every time a child graced my ambulance, I nearly panicked. Kids were scary.

    Taking care of the dogs meant a free drink. That meant something.  This place must have good bottles somewhere in its cellars. I¡¯d even be tempted to split a bottle with my party members provided they were old enough. Video game or not, they were old enough to play, drink, and die for their countries.

    They¡¯d lowered requirements for liquor to eighteen during the war I¡¯d been in. Some lawmakers believed if men were being sent to die for their country, the least America could do was let them get plastered. It created problems, it solved others, but liquor is still one of the kindest drugs on the market.

    The five dogs were too loud. I paused. They fumbled about then stopped to stare at me. Well, four of them. The fifth stared at the floor, following an invisible bug as it traveled across the floor.

    ¡°Okay. Rules. To survive and meet Uncle StoneMason and Aunt Rose, we need to be quiet. We need to be sneaky and listen for monsters,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°Light feet,¡± I said, setting forward slowly. My feet slid along the ground, barely lifting so as to avoid the whump of pressure from putting them back down. Being barefoot helped. My example wasn¡¯t the best, but it should help. I¡¯d played a [Rogue] style character for a month or two before needing to restart.

    Two dogs followed my example. The rest stared in confusion. Except the one tracking a bug.

    ¡°Keep trying. But no barking.¡±

    The fifth finally joined us and barked loudly. The leader turned and nipped his litter mate¡¯s nose. They fumbled over each other down the hall while two puppies continued trying to be sneaky.

    I shook my head. We were in the middle of a mostly clear dungeon. Our rankings showed only two groups left in the fight. Three were gray, meaning they¡¯d died or logged off. Of those groups no longer in the rankings, one remained above us. If Johnny were here, he¡¯d tell me the smart bet was on Pile Driver¡¯s group being the team still alive, and the one in first place.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Their points held still while my party of five confused not-puppies moved forward. On we went,  slowly and steadily toward Johnny¡¯s position. The notes changed a bit as, I presumed, StoneMason and Rose caught up with our runaway scout.

    The messages were [F?], [F!], [STAFF], and last was [FREE DRINKS] with a glitzy border that would have been home on the Las Vegas strip. Not that Vegas was what it used to be anymore.

    I debated simply leaving the mansion¡¯s grounds all together. The thought had passed through my head multiple times but I wanted my staff and the reward for keeping these puppies safe. My chances of getting out were better if we continued on through the cleared areas and toward our party members.

    ¡°Hey, airhead, shush,¡± I said

    Attention

    Do you want to name this pet "Airhead"?

    I debated then pressed no on the pop-up. It might fight for now, but in a week they might have completely different personalities.

    Onward they went, with the fearlessness only the young had. I¡¯d been that way once, years ago. Four halls went by. A few ambling monsters were about, but none of them were too scary or even remotely aggressive. Anything recklessly attacking a lower Ranked Traveler had likely attacked one of the other groups already.

    We made it onto a half-covered porch. Moonlight flooded the rotten wood deck. A solid line cut across where the overhanging roof blocked light. Dead bodies strewn haphazardly.

    One of the pups sniffed.

    ¡°Bad,¡± I said. ¡°Smelly. Undead. Rotting.¡±

    The short words might have worked on a child, but the dog simply cocked his head to one side as if I¡¯d spoken in tongues.

    I waved at the quintet¡¯s potential leader and said, ¡°If it¡¯s dead, don¡¯t bother it. I don¡¯t dig through bodies for loot.¡±

    It was a disgusting practice, made all the worse by Continue Online¡¯s realism factor. I¡¯d once seen a man happily digging through piles of shit for gold coins. He¡¯d failed, and I¡¯d been revolted. Patching people together in real life was hard enough. Dismembering the dead for coins in a game insisting with full graphics, was worse.

    ¡°Trap.¡± I pointed toward the far end of the porch.

    Attention

    Do you want to name this pet "Trap"?

    ¡°No. That¡¯s a trap. Johnny marked that spot. He marked over there too. Then¡­¡± and so it went. I pointed out to the dogs what they were seeing. It didn¡¯t necessarily help them and there were no pop-up messages, but it made me feel better.

    I liked talking to people. I didn¡¯t like being alone. Rushing to catch up with the others might put me face to face with too many monsters and I¡¯d simply die. Then I¡¯d be out of the game, stuck in real life, and without anyone virtual to chat.

    At least, not in a game that offered a real sense of interaction like Trillium¡¯s games. Somehow virtual hangouts felt lackluster when compared to a world like this.

    We kept going. Room by room, hall by hall. The place had been cleaned out and even some of Johnny¡¯s trap notes were out of date. Other Travelers had clearly opened up every room they could find.

    Then I found one of the deceased parties. They were in a dining room with sheets over all the tables and chairs. The only indication of it being a dining room was the low handing chandelier over the white cloth.

    ¡°Those are rogues. Or something.¡± Three girls and one man wearing face paint were propped up in four separate corners of a dining room. ¡°See how their bodies are on the sides like that? It¡¯s probably a trap too. Let¡¯s not¡ª¡± Before my words could sink in, the airhead puppy wandered right into the middle of the room.

    All the white sheets flew into the air and spun around. The chairs creaked and groaned. We¡¯d triggered something by walking into the room.

    The small leader puppy of the pack charged forward after the airheaded one and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck. I grabbed one of the chairs and shoved it into the doorway before anything could close it on us. In two seconds I opened the chat interface, typed out ¡°HELP¡± and closed it again.

    By then, the table in the middle of the room that had been covered, stood. Not like a table propping itself up, but like an ape made of twisted metal dripping muscle and bones.

    ¡°Run!¡± I shouted at the gaggle of dogs.

    In room¡¯s corners, the four party members of a defeated group, flopped to their sides. White blankets from the furniture picked separate corners and wrapped around the bodies. An eye-blink later they stood.

    The table Frankenstein monster lifted a leg and brought it crashing down. The air shook. Something, presumably the table, screeched.

    I turned, grabbed the two sneaky-in-training puppies being slow at the wrong time and ran.

    Up and over the chair I went, down the hall. Behind me the doors slammed shut and the monster screamed. Banging noises told me it wouldn¡¯t easily give up the chase.

    ¡°Boss?¡± I said and continued huffing. ¡°Boss. Got to be a boss. In the dining room.¡±

    Before I¡¯d fully rounded a corner to escape into the labyrinthine halls of this mansion, the door splintered. As I turned, I saw the large twisted shape of a man-shaped living table pull itself down the hall. Something crashed and the floor cracked.

    ¡°Keep running! This is natural selection at work. Those who fall behind get eaten.¡±

    Something popped up on my screen. I almost threw a squirming puppy at it but managed to focus on flight instead of fight.

    ¡°Come on, guys! Friday¡¯s had enough and wants to go drink. Come on!¡± The leader dog nipped at his two floor bound pack-mates to keep them moving. Ten seconds, thirty, maybe a minute. I couldn¡¯t tell how long we ran because these halls all looked the same. We¡¯d traveled by at least ten nightstands, which was the closest measurement for distance that I could figure out.

    My chest hurt. The pounding noise behind us grew closer. We were going to die. I threw both dogs with terrible underhanded tosses. They spun out, yipped, and tumbled over each other.

    I reached out for a vase holding dead flowers then spun while tossing it. My bare feet slipped as a foul scent washed over me. I caught another glimpse. The table had a warped face under it and weird mutated arms with ropes of hair wrapped around its neck.

    My vase slammed into the obtrusive face. I fought the urge to stop and cheer by remembering we were fleeing for our virtual lives.

    Ahead of me, the four dogs had all turned, ready to take a stance to fight. The fifth watched the hallway ahead, then yipped. His tail immediately wagging.

    ¡°Friday!¡± Rose shouted. She held up the bright lantern which acted as a beacon.

    The table monster yelled. My head rocked from the sheer force behind its shout.

    ¡°Go!¡± I said then coughed dryly

    ¡°Stony!¡± Rose waved one arm in our direction. I closed my eyes briefly then stumbled forward. The light overpowered nearly everything.

    A blurry vision of StoneMason peeked out from some corner. One of the dogs yelped. The others yipped and barked at their packmate. Our tank stomped down the hall at high speeds, straight for the home wrecking table from hell.

    ¡°This way!¡± Johnny said from a side room ahead. I could almost make him out but Rose¡¯s light continued to nearly blind me. The puppies didn¡¯t hesitate, veering straight for him. Their barks were my only real source of information.

    ¡°Faster!¡± Rose said.

    StoneMason grunts echoed down the hall from behind me. Rose shouted again but I didn¡¯t understand. My ears still pounded from the sudden horror scene. One arm lifted to shield against the light while someone¡¯s hands grabbed my clothes and yanked. I stumbled and fell into the room onto the pile of puppies.

    They squirmed to get free. ¡°Dammit,¡± I cursed at myself. I¡¯d been too careless with the pack and assumed nothing could scare me. Living furniture certainly rated as new and terrifying.

    Two large objects flew past the door and down the hall. A wall shuddered as they collided with it. Some sharp object caused the floor to screech as StoneMason and the table rounded another corner.

    I stood and tried to process what was going on. Thick layers of dust floated down from the ceiling. Johnny paced along the wall, with one ear pressed tightly against a far wall. He had a skill that let him echo vibrations to detech movement.

    ¡°Where¡¯s,¡± Johnny asked. The remainder drowned under ringing.

    The flashbacks made me short tempered. This whole stupid dungeon had been his fault. I grabbed his shoulders and shook him.

    ¡°Give me my staff,¡± I yelled. My own voice made the vertigo worse. The sound of my heartbeat threatened to drown me. Tingles arched from my lips to my toes.

    The wall thudded. Someone screamed. All five puppies barked at the doorway. It was too much.

    I saw red bars. Those meant something. I screamed at Johnny and shook him again. We needed healing. StoneMason¡¯s bar flashed angrily as another chunk vanished. He would be dead at this rate. I needed the bonus to area of effect spells and the effective Rank increase.

    I took a deep breath and struggled to steady myself. This was harder than my day job. There, the machine did everything. Here, it was me. Just like those days in the war. It was me, trying my damnedest.

    Johnny¡¯s mouth opened and shut like a fish. ¡°What is tha¡ª¡±

    ¡°My staff.¡±

    It felt as though Johnny hadn¡¯t heard me say it the first time.

    The wall shook as something, presumably StoneMason and the [Dinner of Four] table monster, crashed into the wall. A wailing noise came down the hall sounding almost human. I suddenly remembered the four dead Travelers we¡¯d left behind to be wrapped in white blankets.

    ¡°I got it. Just give me a second.¡± Johnny¡¯s hands dug down into pockets that couldn¡¯t have been that deep. They had to be magic or some excuse for player inventory.

    I didn¡¯t even know when he¡¯d slipped away from my shaking or when I¡¯d fallen to my knees. My stomach flipped and I felt acid crawl up into my mouth. I couldn¡¯t remember if I¡¯d gotten out to have food or go to the bathroom after the first boss. I felt like I¡¯d skipped both things.

    Johnny shoved the weapon into my hands and I grabbed onto it tightly, clutching the reminder of my past characters.

    Staff of Thaddeus

    Prior to his fall in the great war leading to the [Soulless World] events, this staff was one of many blessed by the now deceased Voice of Lost Causes. These are often given out to promising young priests to help remind them the Voices will stand by their side.

    Prayer for the newly risen priest; No one is lost as long as hope is held close. Who we were before embracing our belief is less important than who we are after embracing our sacred commitments.

    Provides the following

    [Desperate Heals]

    [Illumination]

    [Sanctified]

    [Priestly Aura]

    [Priestly Aura] was garbage every [Priest] got when reaching far enough on their Path. It meant nothing more than they were priests. [Sanctified] wouldn¡¯t be helpful in a pinch.

    The glowing effect of [Illumining] was nice but it didn¡¯t help when trying to sneak. That didn¡¯t matter now. I¡¯d be able to put the effect into use to see what the heck was going on in the chaos, plus the first skill was what I really needed.

    [Desperate Heals]

    The lower the caster¡¯s mana and health, the more a single heal is increased. While in a party, this can impact the group as a whole.

    It didn¡¯t exactly double my Path as I¡¯d professed, but it certainly helped a lot. Especially now.

    ¡°I did good?¡± Johnny asked.

    I bit my tongue to keep from saying the staff should never have been lost in the first place. I ran my fingers up and down the side. The pointed spear like tip threw me off, but the text called it a staff, so that¡¯s what I thought of it as. Etchings were along the side that reminded me of the twin serpents that went around the classic Greek symbol for healing. Honestly, that was the only one I knew. It was called a caduceus.

    It wasn¡¯t a belief in god or the Voices, so the text meant nothing. What it stood for meant everything. Out there, I was a crappy doctor who served in a support role for some machine. They could have put anyone in the seat and trained them to repeat the machine.

    Here, I could actually heal something and know my choices made a difference.

    ¡°Friday?¡± Johnny asked.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I shouted and stood. We needed real heals. I needed to do my damn job.

    Rose¡¯s bar had taken hits. I didn¡¯t know where she went. StoneMason¡¯s should be on the other end of the thumps. My staff didn¡¯t help with damage so I¡¯d have to stick to the basics. Heal until I ran out of mana. Heal some more. Pray nothing killed me while I kept the party together.

    ¡°It¡¯s just like China all over again,¡± I muttered.

    The staff felt different than I remembered. When I¡¯d been the prior Friday, it made my body feel warm and tingly. As if something filled me. Now it felt steadying, as if I held on to to a thick tree that could support all manner of life and creatures.

    The dogs huddled in a pack behind me. I stumbled forward under their pressure. To my right there were two shambling linen wrapped shamblers. My lips twisted in a frown. Healing them might cancel out the possession but since they were being moved by cloth, it probably didn¡¯t matter.

    ¡°Friday!¡± Rose shouted. She dashed into another room. Her face bled and the other two white clothed monsters chased after her.

    I sighed deeply and worked to keep myself relaxed. The earlier panic faded as the staff¡¯s stable presence helped me. We¡¯d make this work, or I¡¯d die horribly and should be able to keep the staff. As long as a player didn¡¯t kill me and screw up what stayed behind on my dead body.

    [Branch Of Healing] wasn¡¯t as good as [Dash of Light] or [Trickle of Energy]. I almost missed those [Priest] heals. Worrying about those items wouldn¡¯t keep my small team alive.

    Five puppies followed me into the room after Rose. Down the hall StoneMason, hopefully, crashed into another object. His health bar dipped again. I rammed one of the mummy-like monsters in the back. Five dogs landed on the creature, tearing it apart.

    I almost remembered how to fight with a staff. It¡¯d been a few months. My staff¡¯s spear-like tip jabbed into the second¡¯s mummy¡¯s shoulder. It stumbled off course and I stepped past. Rose sprinted at the creature and stabbed it with her modified kitchen knives.

    The mummified monster flailed and elbowed me in the face. I scrambled to get the staff that had been yanked out of my hands. Rose drove a blade into its face, right next to mine. I shuddered then pushed myself away to get up.

    She continued stabbing. I eyed the door. The two other mummified monsters were coming in and StoneMason didn¡¯t have enough health.

    ¡°Friday?¡± she asked.

    I grabbed the staff, yanked it out, and stepped toward Rose¡¯s rhythmically stabbing form. I ignored her dead expression and empty eyes. It had to be a trick of the game. Dots connected for a [Branch Of Healing]. [Desperate Heals] and my party¡¯s overall health should make this one spell get her to full in a minute or two. She glanced at me but I didn¡¯t have time to chat. StoneMason couldn¡¯t die or we¡¯d all be out of the race.

    The dogs continued mauling the clearly weak mummy. Either the puppy squad was overpowered or the monsters were weaker than expected. Sometimes Continue Online made it hard to tell.

    Rose staggered to her feet and swayed toward the other foe. Her cheeks had color but her eyes remained vacant.

    ¡°Back!¡± she yelled at the dogs. They ignored her attempts to finish off the mummy and continued yipping or snarling or whatever weird merger of noises puppies did when murdering undead.

    I poked my head out the hallway and glanced to the right. Two shamblers limped toward us.

    In the other direction, a large ugly messed up table careened back down the hall. StoneMason¡¯s baby face peeked out from under a leg, or arm. Their path headed straight toward us.

    ¡°What?¡± Rose said from behind me.

    Five dogs and Rose piled on my back. I couldn¡¯t keep my footing, even with the staff as a prop. My body went into the hallway, right in front of StoneMason and the boss¡¯s freight train charge.

    StoneMason screamed. I saw red eyes and bulging veins. His damage had reached critical levels. A small red symbol I recognized was by his health bar. I¡¯d had the same one on my [Barbarian] version of Friday. He was enraged, berserking, going crazy. He¡¯d keep doing that until he regained some hit points.

    I reached out and attempted to get a heal going. The room spun and yips pierced through. Some clattered and it sounded like a gunshot. I tensed and grabbed the staff tighter. [I¡¯m so confused here¡­ you said the table already fell on him and he was pinned down, but the next line has them going down again.]My weapon¡¯s tip caught on some part of the hall. The two shamblers behind us were piled onto the reckless charge. Rose yelled.

    StoneMason¡¯s charge was too fast. The staff was cumbersome. Down we went, in a bad dog pile. Two flailing mummies served as my cushion, while the possessed table mockery squished me like a frail piece of lettuce in a sandwich.

    Both arms were pinned and the staff clattered out of reach. My health bar dropped. My feet might be tough enough to handle the pressure. I propped one up and attempted to push myself out of the pile by using a wall.

    My stomach rumbled. StoneMason¡¯s arm was in reach and one limb worked. I traced out the healing spell. That was my job and I¡¯d had enough practice ignoring my needs to follow training. Even fifteen years after leaving the service, I could still focus under fire.

    My own red bar continued to cruise down. I jerked a leg and pain hit me. It felt as though my limbs were impaled. Rose and StoneMason were above me, hammering away at the dining room devil creature. StoneMason¡¯s eyes still red as he hit over and over with his fists.

    Each shock hurt me more. The mummies below gasped and cried out. I bent my hand in hopes of getting [Branch Of Healing] going on myself. It didn¡¯t work. My eyes drifted to the party bars.

    Johnny was perfectly fine. StoneMason¡¯s health was going back up. Rose had reached full. Even our competition points were in the right direction.

    But based on the pain and my bar, I¡¯d be out of the game and they¡¯d be alone.

    ¡°You owe me a drink,¡± I said with the last of my breath.

    The pack of dogs barked and yipped. Tiny fangs tugged on an ear. Wetness licked my bare feet. Everything went black, and I logged out to solve my rumbling stomach and bladder issues.

 Session 9 â€“ A Drinking We Shall Go

    I¡¯d expected to find myself dead and unable to get in for the rest of Saturday and most of Sunday. Instead, I was able to get back into Continue Online partway through Sunday morning. Time was always hard to keep track of when considering the game¡¯s perspective shift.

    As a doctor, I¡¯d wondered how on earth the game managed to make people live four times as long inside the game world. I¡¯d found a few studies, videos, forum posts, and decided that the time compression was sort of a lie.

    Those thoughts kept me busy as I loaded up the game again.

    The world had darkened considerably. I didn¡¯t have [Night Vision] on this character yet. I¡¯d have to swallow questionable gunk or be blessed by a magical creature like Friday the Second. Instead, I tried to key in on the intangible senses provided by [Natural Vibe].

    My back was nearly on dirt. The skill didn¡¯t help me figure that out, but lumps poking into me did. If [Soreness] were a character trait like [Brawn], mine would be high. We weren¡¯t in the plagued area anymore. Or somehow the curse had been lifted. I based that on the stable feeling in my stomach and the lack of squishiness around my toes.

    My legs felt abnormally warm. I curled my feet and rolled them at the ankles. Something lightly nipped at me. Wet pressed against skin and I heard a series of yawns. Other weights shifted around. My hand reached to feel what had me locked in place. I found small furry bodies.

    ¡°This is the weirdest wakeup I¡¯ve had in a while,¡± I said. It didn¡¯t matter if anyone heard me. I talked for the sake of hearing someone.

    The separate bodies implied all five virtual puppies were still alive. I missed the days when we could log into websites and raise animals, then forget about them three months later and not feel guilt. I¡¯d forgotten about one dragon cat creature before, and when I came back the site told me it ran away after being abandoned. Honestly, it was for the best. I¡¯d been going on deployment the week after that.

    ¡°Can you guys move?¡±

    The dogs shifted slightly but didn¡¯t give me enough room to lift a foot. If anything, they had me more securely pinned. Someone laid across my thigh.

    Light blinded me as some flap was shoved to one side. I lifted my hands in defense. The dogs were oblivious and my lower half stayed locked in position.

    ¡°Friday, you¡¯re awake.¡±

    It took a moment to recognize the face in the doorway. It took longer to realize it wasn¡¯t a doorway at all, but some cheap tent flap that had to be made of a thick material. Behind Rose was a campfire along with the disproportionate forms of Johnny and StoneMason. Johnny¡¯s tiny hands moved in frantic gestures while StoneMason nodded.

    I swallowed then patted around and found my staff. With a thought [Illumination] went off, brightening the entire room even more. That stirred the pack keeping me in place. I pried loose while responding. ¡°Technically. I was out handling real life. Thought I died but I checked my feed. Looks like you guys won?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly. We survived and escaped. Along with your litter. I tried to get them off you with food but they refused. Even the chubby one on your toes barely budged.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re clingy. I guess. I¡¯m not sure what I¡¯ll do with them.¡±

    The lead puppy, at least I assumed it was the leader, sat up slowly. His companions kept resting.

    ¡°Did we win the bet at least?¡± I asked Johnny.

    He shook his head.

    ¡°Did we get enough gold to drink ourselves silly?¡±

    Johnny smiled. ¡°If you let me hang onto half of it, by tomorrow I can get us all stallions and saddles. We could go on adventures! Or one Griffin mount.¡±

    ¡°Not my thing,¡± I said. The tent wasn¡¯t tall enough so I jabbed the others back with the dull end of my staff and crawled out. ¡°At least, not this weekend. Maybe next weekend. It¡¯s hard for me to group since I only play a few days a week.¡±

    ¡°We can work with that,¡± Johnny insisted.

    Outside the tent were a lot of trees. Like, an absurd amount. They weren¡¯t full grown, but sprouts that reached three of four feet tall. I looked at the road and almost recognized the area.

    ¡°What happened here?¡±

    StoneMason shrugged huge shoulders. ¡°Druid grove. I guess. Grows with Rank. You¡¯re higher?¡±

    I checked through notices. A good number of them resulted from my near death fight. It was always weird how quick the starting levels, or whatever Continue Online called them, went. It seemed to go faster with each character.

    ¡°So all these trees. Were planted. Everywhere?¡± StoneMason looked around. Now that we had more time and weren¡¯t in the middle of one fight after another, I could pinpoint why his speech bothered me. The pauses reminded me of asthmatic kids struggling to breathe after a long run.

    ¡°Yeah. We picked them before the dungeon. Then planted them so he could get a Druid Path. I didn¡¯t know they¡¯d all clump like this though. It¡¯s neat, and weird, but makes sense.¡±

    I flipped my staff over carefully. The pointy end often caught on everything in the universe. If the game system were perfect, I could have pulled out my prize without needing to take the darn weapon out of player inventory.

    ¡°I guess there¡¯s a power bonus. If I read the message right, animals of equal or lesser Rank to the grove will be friendly. There¡¯s no need to eat or drink while in here for around two days. Though I guess that¡¯ll get more powerful as the trees grow and the grove gets taller.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s cool. I want to. Be a druid now.¡±

    Rose smirked. ¡°You could try to get the Path. All he did was plant a bunch of seeds.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not quite that easy,¡± I said while fumbling for a small coin-sized slot on the staff¡¯s bottom. My nails weren¡¯t long enough to get a hold on the secret compartment.

    ¡°That¡¯s all you did. Unless it¡¯s some side effect of playing other characters?¡±

    I said nothing. It felt as though I¡¯d babbled entirely too much about the other Fridays. The system had even warned me. I paused my actions to bring up the system message. There were no obvious progression bars or dangerous colors, but the window gave me an ominous feeling. Once those other Friday characters linked to this one, I¡¯d be in for a world of annoyance.

    I shrugged it off and dug through my player inventory for anything suitable to pry open the staff¡¯s bottom. One copper coin later, and I¡¯d broken into my staff. Out slid a small vial. The container along with its contents resembled seasoning for cooking, but thinner and tinier grains.

    ¡°What is that?¡±

    ¡°Salt,¡± I said.

    It wasn¡¯t salt, not exactly. It was a container I¡¯d hidden in the staff¡¯s handle called [Vile Dram]. I¡¯d had to hide it due to switching characters. The vial and its cap came from a stone I¡¯d stolen out of a magical river in some forest on another Friday. The resulting item had only one ability, it spawned small grains inside called [Salty Tears].

    I wasn¡¯t entirely sure how I¡¯d crafted it either. I¡¯d been drunk on yet another Friday and toying with items. Most broke into unusable pieces. I vaguely remembered the cap coming from a mercenary group I¡¯d worked with. Part of the commander¡¯s lucky boots or something. I¡¯d assembled it then noticed the grains stacked up throughout my time with the company.

    There had been loads of Travelers who joined up for a tour or two and died frequently when being used like cannon fodder by the Locals. They cried, my item gained another grain each time. [Salty Tears]. I¡¯d found only one use for the [Salty Tears].

    ¡°One sprinkle of this and a beer will hit like a freight train,¡± I said. ¡°Two, and you¡¯ll be having a party on the roof all night. Best part? Come morning you log out and no real life hangover.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you have¡ª¡± Rose squinted at some invisible text near the vial. She had been about to say more but instead doubled over laughing. ¡°Did you see the description?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± StoneMason asked. He squinted at my [Vile Dram].

    Apparently I was the only one without an [Identification] style skill.

    ¡°So, about those drinks?¡±

    Rose shook her head, but had enough of a smile to let me know things were alright. We practically ran from the grove to the nearest bar. Five overexcited puppies chased us the whole way.

    People gave us looks, but rarely bothered to do a double take. I guess a giant, five dogs, a ratty druid, and a waif with knives wasn¡¯t unusual in Continue Online, much less in a town made up mostly of Travelers. I didn¡¯t see Johnny, but he¡¯d already be ahead of us. He always knew when it was time to drink.

    ¡°Johnny!¡± I shouted while pushing in the barroom¡¯s swinging doors. I loved their old western feel. It didn¡¯t go with the rest of the bar, that couldn¡¯t decide if it was Victorian or Greek, but that door swung and it made me happy.

    Sure enough, the short not-a-hobbit was standing in front of two Travelers wearing nearly nothing. ¡°Just a few coins and I can easily get you that sweet deal you¡¯re looking for.¡±

    ¡°Dapper, we told you, if you want to play, you¡¯ve got to pay. A girl¡¯s gotta make some money,¡± one of them said. She leaned over and StoneMason put up a meaty fist to block his view. Rose whistled and nodded.

    Johnny, a good two feet too short, couldn¡¯t appreciate the view. I did but had more pressing concerns. My feet quickly wove a path through the crowded room over to Johnny¡¯s character.

    ¡°Johnny.¡± I brought my hands down on his shoulders. He could probably escape but I hoped he¡¯d get the hint.

    ¡°Oh, honey, you need a bath,¡± one of the possible prostitutes said.

    ¡°I¡¯m not here for you, at all. I¡¯m on a strict real-women-only diet. But I¡¯ve got to talk to my friend about a debt.¡±

    ¡°Friday, you¡¯re ruining my plan!¡± he whispered.

    ¡°You started it.¡± I pushed him toward the bar counter where an unimpressed bartender stood. He looked at StoneMason and put out a hand.

    StoneMason didn¡¯t even ask what that meant. He fished in his pocket for some small piece of paper. I lifted an eyebrow. In all the times I¡¯d gotten drunk, I¡¯d never seen anyone get carded, in a video game. I¡¯d thought the age limits made that sort of thing obvious. He saw me standing there, Johnny still firmly under my hands, and smiled sheepishly.

    He pulled out a card and checked it while explaining.

    ¡°It¡¯s the race,¡± StoneMason said. ¡°I have to have approval from a council to drink and show I¡¯m in good standing and of¡­¡± He squinted at the card in his hands. ¡°Steady headed temperament while under the influence. I guess if I go crazy I get bad marks on my record. Or sent to Hill Giant jail. I don¡¯t know.¡±

    The bartender checked out the card. I blinked. The person behind the counter was a Local so maybe he had to be more careful about the rules. Players could typically just wave screens at each other all day.

    Still, the man said nothing.

    ¡°Good sir, a round of drinks for the four of us. My friend here is paying,¡± I said.

    Johnny looked up at me with his tiny weasel-y face. ¡°But, Friday¡ª¡±

    ¡°Mmmmhm. Nope. I don¡¯t believe you. You took all my rainy day funds, remember? And you can¡¯t tell me you didn¡¯t steal from Pile Driver when he had you cornered, right?¡±

    ¡°Hey. Yeah, where¡¯s my gold, you little thief.¡±

    ¡°Hey, yeah. Drinks are on Rose! Thanks, girl. But if you let me keep the lantern you got, then I can get us a secret path into a lord¡¯s castle.¡± Johnny pulled out a few coins and slammed them down on the counter. Rose dove for them but the bartender was quicker. He bit a coin then leaned over to glare at Johnny.

    Rose fumed. ¡°No. That¡¯s mine!¡±

    Subdued by the bartender¡¯s stare, Johnny pulled out two more coins and put them on the counter. Rose snatched one this time before the drink server grabbed the other. He stared at Rose then rubbed his fingers at Johnny.

    The short guy protested. ¡°Without me you would have never noticed that spy shield enchant!¡±

    ¡°Please, that was your talent adding extra perks.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    The bartender rubbed his fingers again and frowned. I was fairly sure he¡¯d been frowning the whole time but it took on a new dimension of disapproval.

    ¡°And the natural fabrics on big balls pants!¡±

    ¡°Also your talents.¡± She pointed at the bartender and lifted her eyebrows while staring at Johnny.

    ¡°They¡¯re called skills, and for ten gold I can fiddle with everything you own to see what other secrets they may hold.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± I asked. ¡°She¡¯s like twenty and you¡¯re forty. Don¡¯t be gross. And pay the man!¡±

    ¡°Forty¡¯s the new twenty-five!¡± Johnny shouted. His tiny form hopped.

    ¡°Pay the man,¡± I repeated.

    Johnny realized his usual attempts at distraction wouldn¡¯t work on the Local. He fished out some more coins. Two were fake, two more were scooped up by Rose, and the last few apparently satisfied the bartender.

    You are gross,¡± StoneMason said. ¡°Though some of these races. Make it hard to tell. I once saw this. It was like. You know those stem cell. Addicts? The ones who are sixty but look thirty.¡±

    StoneMason¡¯s words were dangerously close to discussing stuff I didn¡¯t want to think about. I scooped up the drinks and put them on a serving plate. We wove a path to a table.

    Rose and Johnny still argued about who owed who what. She paused repeatedly and fought off the short man¡¯s skills. I set out a drink in front of each person and held up the [Vile Dram]. It wouldn¡¯t be fair to supply them with any of this material if they weren¡¯t serious. Plus, if they said no, I could keep more for myself.

    ¡°You sure you all want to try this?¡± I asked.

    StoneMason and Rose exchanged a glance. Johnny grabbed his mug off the table and shoved it under my nose. Eventually the other two nodded and I sighed. If only they¡¯d said no.

    I unscrewed the top and put a few grains into all the drinks. Then I remembered my week out in the real world, and added a few more [Salty Tears] to mine.

    So, after we¡¯d all been set up. I took a long swig then asked the important questions, ¡°What ever happened to Pile Driver?¡±

    ¡°Oh you should have seen Rose,¡± Johnny started.

    I smiled. It sounded like it would be a good story to pass the night with.

    Turned out it wasn¡¯t that great a story. I felt kind of happy I¡¯d missed out. Rose and StoneMason took turns badly explaining how they¡¯d set up some complicated plan to ambush PileDriver¡¯s team, when he died to a boss. Johnny repeatedly explained how he¡¯d kited the Travelers by the master suite of the mansion in hopes of triggering the final battle.

    He¡¯d succeeded, but I¡¯d been too busy herding dogs, which was a backwards job. Johnny stole all his goods and everything else not nailed down, and they¡¯d barely finished up when I typed a message into party chat.

    That got them racing. I shared about the dogs, who were all strangely well-behaved and huddled under the table. One kept nosing StoneMason¡¯s lap for food he¡¯d ordered.

    By the time we had our second round of drinks, my grip on the surroundings had faded pretty far. I bought fries and some slab of material that might have been bacon in reality. It tasted closer to fried butterscotch.

    ¡°Going to bed now. Night night.¡± With that, StoneMason¡¯s head hit the table top at high speeds. The room shook from a thud. His character faded as the player logged out of Continue Online.

    Two of the dogs immediately fought over his chair, searching for crumbs.

    ¡°Wuss,¡± Rose said. Her head reeled back with wide eyes. I laughed. We were beyond toasted. The walls were almost melting.

    ¡°Come on, Friday! I want to stab something and need you to heal me. It¡¯ll be good. We can train the dogs. Maybe get some cooking skills.¡±

    ¡°Dogs?¡±

    Four voices yipped at me. The fifth bit my bare bearfeet. I frowned. They¡¯d been normal feet a moment ago. I couldn¡¯t focus on the words on my screen to figure out when they¡¯d reached a new level of skill. Did dogs chewing on my toes increase the skill?

    I wiggled my feet and blinked as they slowly returned to normal.

    ¡°God. I don¡¯t want to shapeshift,¡± I mumbled.

    Rose waved an arm wildly. ¡°What? Let¡¯s get some food for the road, and more of this. Jesus. This tastes like unfiltered ass but I can¡¯t stop smiling.¡±

    I hadn¡¯t really noticed what expression she wore while telling the story. My brain had wandered.

    Rose abruptly screamed. No one at the other tables even flinched. ¡°Where¡¯s Johnny? He stole my gold again.¡± She charged out of the bar.

    I motioned to the dogs. ¡°Go keep her safe, yeah?¡±

    Only the leader seemed to understand my words. I¡¯d have to think of a good name for him. He nipped his litter-mates and herded them out the door after Rose. I hoped they¡¯d keep each other busy while I attended real life again.

    I logged out and washed up. As a doctor, with a worthless degree, I knew the importance of stretching and moving around regularly. That¡¯s why I ate a harried dinner while standing up and pacing the room. A few squats and stretches got me into vague shape. Luckily digital liquor didn¡¯t interfere with the physical body.

    The haze of my digital escapades faded and I started to feel clear headed. That bothered me. Being clear headed meant all the horrible shit from this week would wiggle its way back into my thoughts. I finished a brief exercise routine then put on my helmet and logged back in.

    A lot of trees were around.

    ¡°Fuck you, Fuzzy Faced asshole!¡± Rose shouted. ¡°Rat bastard! It¡¯s all your damn fault.¡±

    I took note of my surroundings. Apparently my character had been on autopilot, which was the fancy way a game kept continuity in the game world. A virtual copy of me tried its best to act as I did while real me went about life. I normally didn¡¯t use autopilot but must have forgotten to turn it off. Or I¡¯d blacked out.

    My mana bar had dropped a lot. There were messages about new skills. I flicked past one that showed me an upgraded version of [Branch of Healing] called [Winds of Renewal], which was a fancy ranged spell, but it did less healing overall. I¡¯d also finally received a mana regeneration increase called something boring. The pool had gone up a bit, and my [Knowledge] increased. None of the bonuses were ground breaking, but they¡¯d make my life easier in the future.

    Sadly, there were no event notices to put on my wall of amusement.

    ¡°I¡¯ll gut you and wear your skull as a hat!¡± Rose threw rocks.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked. My hearing didn¡¯t seem in sync with everything else, which is how I knew my autopilot had continued drinking heavily. I poked my interface. I¡¯d ordered a lot of beers to go, paying with whatever gold I¡¯d earned during the dungeon crawl.

    She screamed at a rat monster. I could almost remember us wandering into the woods for a fight but it didn¡¯t make sense. My mind got stuck on trying to remember how I¡¯d earned any money at all.

    Rose engaged the oversized rat.

    ¡°Dog pile!¡± I shouted, hoping the command to action worked.

    A swarm of angry puppies dove for the enemy.

    A dozen more rats came out of places my brain couldn¡¯t conceive of.

    My dogs scattered. Rose continued to fight the good fight. I panicked and threw out [Winds of Renewal] after the scattering dogs to keep them from dying.

    ¡°Heel!¡± I shouted.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need healing,¡± Rose bellowed. She hacked away at a rat until its brains were pulp. ¡°I need my child¡¯s father to fucking be a dad.¡±

    Her words registered slowly. A second later my face slammed into the ground. Pain flared and I curled into a ball, clutching what felt like a broken nose.

    ¡°NNoooww.¡± I badly merged two words together while shaking off the hurt.

    Those were easy enough to set. It was the healing after that sucked. Fingers gripped the nose and pressed the tip back into cartilage. My eyes watered and I gasped. I counted to ten while eying my mana bar, then performed a shaky [Branch of Healing]. Learning a new version didn¡¯t mean the old one went away.

    I might have been able to simply cast the spell, but setting a bone first helped. There were uses for basic medical skills that magic and my skills acknowledged.

    The baby-like squeals of dying rats faded. Dogs yipped. Rose counted to three, then four, then three again, and finally reached five. I stood and glanced around. The dogs were gathered in the middle of a messy pile of corpses. My head shook slowly. Those pups had survived on their own. Either they¡¯d been mainly a distraction, Rose was insane enough to think they¡¯d win, or we¡¯d gotten lucky and these rats were exceptionally weak.

    ¡°You okay?¡±

    My nose tingled and I fought back a sneeze. ¡°I told you, I¡¯m a doctor.¡±

    The system didn¡¯t agree, but I did get another Rank in [Field Medic] for fixing my own nose.

    We repeated the exercise of murdering forest monsters until the dogs and I were exhausted. They did amazingly well considering they were so young. Though maybe my eyes were playing tricks because the leader, who I still hadn¡¯t figured out a good name for, seemed bigger than he had been.

    He barked and the others went into action. The two female dogs were a bit sleeker and disappeared into the bushes frequently. I couldn¡¯t tell but the fatter, distracted one, seemed to be taste testing all the dead animals then yipping when he found something worth eating. As for the fifth, his mission seemed to be making sure I didn¡¯t go too far. Or he huddled against my legs the entire time and nipped me when Rose got too far away. It was like I had a fuzzy minder.

    After a few dozen messy battles against low Rank enemies, Rose stumbled back toward the Traveler made town. The dogs stayed in front of me, wagging tired stubby tails.

    She flopped onto the roadside in front of a Local guard. The guard didn¡¯t even bat an eyelash. Rose¡¯s eyes were glazed over and she gestured to me.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Give me more. This is a goddamned pity party of two and I need to be properly sauced.¡±

    ¡°Sauced?¡±

    ¡°Old-fashioned word for drunk as hell.¡±

    The guard, who¡¯d been ignoring us, caved with a brief snicker. I asked, ¡°All the murder wasn¡¯t cathartic enough?¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter how much I get distracted. As soon as I¡¯m done here, out I go. Back into the real world with real problems,¡± Rose said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t I know it.¡±

    I pulled out two more drinks. Rose¡¯s ability to keep up was impressive, or the game interface had gone easy on her.

    ¡°I hate it. Everything I see reminds me of him.¡±

    ¡°So, stop looking at people as hard. I don¡¯t pay much attention myself.¡±

    ¡°I noticed. You¡¯re still wearing those starter clothes. They smell like shit warmed over and you¡¯ve hardly commented on the fact that my ass is hanging out of these pathetic leggings.¡±

    I shrugged. ¡°Starter gear is like that. Everyone looks kind of dull and unrefined. Nothing sparkles. Plus, like I said, there¡¯s no point in caring what people in here look like.¡±

    ¡°How do you not care about people¡¯s faces and stuff? I mean, you brushed off those whores in the bar without even a second glance. They had everything just¡ª¡± Rose gestured at her chest. ¡°All over.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen a lot of people over the years. You know? I guess getting older means some things stop mattering. Everyone goes into boxes, or whatever is socially acceptable to call boxes. Plus no one in here looks remotely like what they do in real life, so what¡¯s the point?¡±

    ¡°You got that right. I had a man, met him in real life. Thought he was still cute until he pulled a vanishing act on me.¡±

    I remembered my own life choices and stared at my drink. I mumbled, ¡°Maybe he had a good reason.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    I sighed in relief. She hadn¡¯t heard my stupid drunken admission.

    We kept chatting. Rose unloaded a lot about this father of her child. I¡¯d forgotten how much some people babbled when drunk.

    ¡°What about your life? All those characters, you must have seen some shit.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a lot like real life. Kind of funny actually.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah? You¡¯re going to talk about those prior characters?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± I answered then took a long hard swig of beer. ¡°But I heard about this one guy named Friday who¡­¡± The words dragged off in a sound reminding me of a distorted phone call. The world spun and my long sought after peaceful oblivion finally arrived. The world went black.

    I found myself standing, staring at the ground. The guard from before had changed to a woman in armor. She stared at me with one hand on her sword. Five dogs were nearby, barking up a storm.

    ¡°Quiet those animals, sir, before I¡¯m forced to throw you all in the stocks for disrupting my sanity,¡± she said. I found the slightly British accent charming and confusing.

    ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°You regaled the girl with tales of some other man¡¯s heroism, then she vanished. As you Travelers do.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± My fingers flipped through the system notices in fear of seeing one talk about my [Legacies] being claimed. There were none. There were no notices at all. I frowned but considered myself lucky that black out drunk Friday didn¡¯t make tipsy as heck Friday wet himself in fear.

    Either way, Rose had left me alone with five mouths to feed. I said a silent prayer that her real world problems would turn out okay. Based on what I could recall, she had a young baby her mother was watching for the weekend.

    The dogs milled around, sniffing the ground.

    ¡°Okay, puppy. We¡¯re going to try healing you all, a lot,¡± I told the dog. ¡°And other stuff. We¡¯re going to try all the spells. We¡¯re going to do them backward. Daddy needs some skills!¡±

    The leader puppy backed up with a whimper. The other four huddled behind him.

    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll try it on myself!¡± I lifted a finger to trace a mirrored version of [Branch of Healing], to see what would happen, then I blacked out.

    Eventually the world came into focus. I could be sure time had passed because now I stood in a new location feeling both sick and elated. One armed tingled with energy while the other had a clammy feeling to it.

    My eyes were having a hard time focusing. [Branch Of Healing] probably hadn¡¯t been intended to be traced backward but it still did something. I sniffed. The ground smelled, gross. It reminded me of the entire area around [Widow¡¯s Children]. I stared and wondered what the heck this meant. Had I reversed the healing spell and turned it into some sort of anti-life ability?

    The city wasn¡¯t in sight anymore. This looked vaguely like the forest grove with the saplings growing in it, only now the trees were much taller and thicker. At this rate they¡¯d be towering monsters in a few weeks.

    I took another swig of my amped up alcohol and blacked out again.

    Time moved strangely. Continue Online¡¯s game presence came to in blips. Part of me worried, because the time dilation and being only in a virtual game should have lessoned the effect or inebriation, but at the same point I was too drunk to give it much thought.

    Shadows moved as the sun spun overhead. I¡¯d been on an in-game bender for almost two days, stopping only to take care of real life physical issues before diving back into beer land. The entire time I fumbled through the motions.

    Rose appeared later the next day. She¡¯d found me in the grove and stared hard across the distance. ¡°Still here?¡±

    ¡°Sure is. Am. For shores. Want to stitch up a chicken? I used to do this all the time in the service. Might get a skill out of it. You might. I got one,¡± my words came in a heated rush. In front of me was a mound of dirt I¡¯d dug from the ground somehow. I¡¯d been firmly blacked out and returned to find it waiting for me, like a strange altar.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Rose said. ¡°But promise to take a bath.¡±

    ¡°I did take one. Used soap and everything,¡± I answered while cheering myself on with both fists shaking.

    ¡°In-game.¡±

    ¡°Fine. Next time it rains.¡±

    I spent another hour drinking myself to oblivion and teaching her the finer points of using dead animals to practice on. After I logged out to go the bathroom, she¡¯d left. I vaguely remembered my promise and screamed at the sky for rain.

    So, it rained. Feeling proud of my impending bath, I took another sip of beer and the world went black.

    When I came to, I stood at the edge of my grove on the road. There, I shouted incoherently. After a second of mental hoop jumping, I figured out that my shouting had purpose.

    ¡°I need dog food!¡± I bellowed. The world kept spinning. It felt like the puppies were about my legs but looking down proved harder than expected. My nose still tingled, even though I was fairly sure I¡¯d broken it a day ago in-game, maybe two. Time proved difficult to track and my interface hid from me.

    My loud rant for assistance continued, ¡°Don¡¯t let these pups starve! Free healing for dog food!¡±

    I searched for some cardboard to write my slogan on. It would have been easier with Johnny getting people for me, but he¡¯d run off a few hours ago. Or days. I couldn¡¯t tell. I was fairly sure he¡¯d shown up.

    Three Travelers were headed to town along the path that my grove had been growing near. It still made no sense how these trees had sprouted so darn fast.

    ¡°I can heal you for food. I¡¯m a doctor dammit!¡± I shouted.

    One of the Travelers plugged his nose and waved at me. ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him. He¡¯s clearly drunk and not a real doctor.¡±

    Another one muttered, ¡°I didn¡¯t know there were homeless in-game?¡±

    The third shook his head.

    ¡°Hey! Hey fuck you all and the horse you rode in on. I¡¯m not a quack, I¡¯m a goddamn doctor. I earned my degree.¡± My arms were out of control. They spun. I spun. The world continued to go in circles around me and I couldn¡¯t find a tree large enough to keep from falling into the sky. Or the ground. It was hard to tell.

    ¡°Just trying to earn money,¡± I mumbled. My fingers traced out the [Branch of Healing] spell for the umpteenth time. ¡°Goddammit.¡±

    Clouds sat overhead. Either from my earlier possible summoning of a storm or some other natural phenomenon. I didn¡¯t know if the pack of pups would survive a week without someone watching over them. I didn¡¯t know anything that would happen. They¡¯d need food. They¡¯d need shelter.

    I could barely take care of myself, in-game and out there in the real world. Now I''d drunkenly set myself about taking care of virtual pets.

    When I¡¯d been young, life had had so much promise. Everything in the world to offer for a boy who could do anything. That¡¯s what I¡¯d told people all the time.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got this. I can do anything,¡± I mumbled, but I hadn''t believed that in decades.

    Wallowing did no good. I decided now was the best the time to stop drinking and set about making a shelter for the dogs. I stumbled to my feet and flipped through a blurry interface. Some of the trees were large enough that I could weave the branches together. If I was lucky, it¡¯d turn into a dry spot for the dogs.

    Maybe the game would let them create a den. That seemed like a [Druid] thing to do.

    ¡°Dig there.¡±

    The five of them looked at me blankly. I dumped out anything resembling food from my inventory, which wasn¡¯t much, and followed up with a, ¡°Stay. I¡¯ll be back in a lot of days.¡±

    Then before any more self pity could rear its ugly head, I logged off.

 Interlude â€“ The Lives and Deaths of Friday

    Friday the 1<sup>st</sup>

    Legacy Story: The Princess and The Troglodyte

    Once there was a man who fell in love with a princess. The princess was not a young doe-eyed lass, but instead a sheltered woman kept in highly controlled seclusion. She loved to feel desired as a person, rather than a title to be won. She ran away from her castle and disguised herself as commoner.

    Destitute and without any commoner coins, the princess found the world outside was harsher than she¡¯d ever expected. In truth, the princess had only managed to travel to a trading post outside of her kingdom¡¯s central city. There, Travelers and Locals haggled over the prices of fascinating objects she¡¯d never seen before. In terms of monsters, the surroundings were fairly peaceful.

    Friday had been working at the trading post, trying to earn money buying low and selling high. Most days he failed. In between, he earned a few silver by bandaging other Travelers who had just come in from the dangerous trading routes. On odd days, he worked with other Travelers to learn the delicate art of [Enchanting]. This suited Friday as it felt much like his normal life. At the trading post he could find a willing woman to spend the nights, and all the drink he might be able to afford.

    Nature, change, and need, took their course. On the morning after a tryst, Travelers sent by the King found the princess and dragged her away. She pled with Friday to join her, for he¡¯d made her feel wanted as more than a feature of the castle grounds. She stated she¡¯d become pregnant with his child.

    He declined and vanished the next day, lost on a trading route that went toward unexplored lands. Locals and Travelers were unable to find him, and it turned out she was indeed with child. She prayed to the Voices that her childless father might be punished.

    So he was, waking up one morning as a deformed creature. Fearing the worst, the caravan he¡¯d been fleeing with kicked him out. Friday the 1<sup>st</sup> vanished from the world shortly after.

    The chase did not end there. The princess learned much in her time outside the castle, including the strange nature of Travelers. She knows they may return in any number of forms, with new lives each time. Each time the princess suspects Friday¡¯s return to the world of [Arcadia], hunters are sent to bring him in. The reward, and desired health of her child¡¯s father changed each time. Currently the reward is two thousand gold and ¡°Dead or Alive.¡± She doesn¡¯t mind if he¡¯s dead, for the princess knows Travelers can return to life.

    Inheritable Legacy Skills, Traits, and Paths

    <ul>

    <li>Path [Trader] Rank 4</li>

    <li>Path [Medic] Rank 3</li>

    <li>Title [Princesses Consort]</li>

    <li>Trait [Beat With Ugly Stick]</li>

    <li>Path [Enchanter] Rank 2</li>

    <li>Basic [Regeneration] glyph</li>

    <li>Basic [Stealth] glyph</li>

    </ul>

    <hr>

    Friday the 2<sup>nd</sup>

    Legacy Story: The Treasure Seeker and The Wilder Hunt

    A shapeshifter ventured from town to town, plying mortals both Local and Traveler alike with booze. Once they, or he, was drunk enough, the shapeshifter then spun wild tales of a nearly untouched wilderness. Haunted, to be sure, full of monsters both strange and dangerous, to be very sure. But there in the depths were treasures that might fetch a man enough to spend the rest of his life in luxury.

    So, one day, in this corner of [Arcadia] mostly untouched by human hands, a Traveler dared poke his head. There he searched for treasures that might be sold for unending riches. Instead, he was marked upon entry, and spent the nights being hunted by dangerous creatures hungrier than wraiths.

    He fled deeper into the woods, certain there were rewards for the brave. He knew at any time he could quit this world and return to his own, for Travelers are blessed by the Voices to have a sanctuary beyond the realm of monsters such as those who controlled the forest.

    Eventually he found another foolish soul, a tiny Local with wings like a butterfly. He freed it on the condition that they¡¯d search for the forests treasures together. With the help of his sprite companion, they sneaked about the forest in search of something worthy to steal.

    They settled upon a river of magic which snaked through the forest. It contained flavors and magic. If drank while the sun was at its apex, the river water tasted of strawberries pure and untainted. At sunset it tasted of a fine earthy wine. At dawn it would fill a body with energy, making the Traveler feel as if he¡¯d slept in the best beds, with the best drinks, and had a night of unparalleled rest.

    At the river¡¯s mouth were seven magic stones that enchanted the river. Friday and his companion built a plan that lured away the river¡¯s guardians and tricked it into a war against the forests lords. Then they fled, night after unending night toward the forest¡¯s edge. For the spirit knew they¡¯d be beyond the touch of those who control the woods.

    On the escape, Friday lost sight of his companion and suffered grievous wounds. He moved on with a fortitude unmatched by normal Travelers, unsure if he could save the sprite he¡¯d traveled with for weeks. The human, Friday, made it to the forest¡¯s edge, broken, battered, and marked by the forest¡¯s inhuman lords. He buried his stolen treasure then promptly vanished from the world.

    Those lords, incised by the theft of a powerful spring stone which enchanted their waters, marked Friday¡¯s soul for hunting. If ever they catch a hint of his Traveler essence returning to any of the realms, they will hunt him down until the stone is returned. As for the sprite, it too lives, bound by spells carved into its bones to hunt down Friday should he ever return. Only then will it be allowed peace.

    Inheritable Legacy Skills, Traits, and Paths

    <ul>

    <li>Path [Woodman] Rank 3</li>

    <li>Compound Path [Shadow] Rank 2</li>

    <li>Combines [Sneak] and [Dark Dweller]</li>

    <li>Title [Magic Thief]</li>

    <li>Skill [Ambush Detect] Advanced</li>

    <li>Skill [Wilderness Survival] Advanced</li>

    <li>Trait [Prey of The Soulless]</li>

    <li>Trait [Shadow Touched]</li>

    <li>Foe [Dari The Broken]</li>

    </ul>

    <hr>

    Friday the 3<sup>rd</sup>

    Legacy Story: The Mercenaries and The Moron

    It¡¯s been said that most Travelers detest  ¡°Go here¡± and ¡°Kill X¡± style missions. They were also considered ¡°tropes,¡± ¡°pathetic,¡± ¡°time consuming,¡± and ¡°boring.¡± Despite this, Locals needed protection from rapidly spawning monsters nestled close to their towns.

    So, there are bands of hired hands who take on quests deemed too petty for real heroes. They take in anyone wishing to clear the field of monsters, though truthfully some bands are more stringent in their requirements.

    The Knights of Whatever, were not such a group. They stopped at every town in the region once a year and took in literally anyone. Locals and Travelers alike. Those who joined signed a year long contract and were branded so they wouldn¡¯t be able to escape the mercenary¡¯s traveling wagon.

    Friday joined up, took his pay in advance, and drank it all away before the mercenary group left town. This was not an unusual achievement as the group rarely paid that much. As such, the group Friday traveled with qualified as ¡°desperate¡± and ¡°downtrodden¡± made only bearable by the Traveler¡¯s magic ability to whisk themselves back to their other worlds with indoor plumbing and regular showers.

    As part of the contract however, Travelers bodies were required to stay with the mercenaries so that they might be used for manual labor. This was often considered a Traveler¡¯s best use. Those in charge loved when Travelers couldn¡¯t handle the hardship and left, because it meant someone else would peel the potatoes used for meals.

    Friday stayed with the group for months. He learned a little when he was around, but due to what he termed ¡°a real job¡± his body was often bereft the Traveler¡¯s soul. This made him highly valued. Soon the Local mercenaries couldn¡¯t function without him to chop the wood, setup the camp, take care of the horses, and any other drudge work they could find. They considered him to be dumb, in the literal sense, but hard working.

    They were perplexed when their indentured servant, though The Knights of Whatever would protest such a tactless term, vanished one night after they returned from a desolate forest said to be haunted by spirits. Still, in the end they considered the bargain worth their initial investment, until armies from the [Soulless] launched an attack one night, wiping out a good portion of their ¡°hired help.¡±

    By morning¡¯s approach, the remaining Knights of Whatever were forced to chop their own wood, put up their own tents, and pay renumeration for those who had died during the assault. Their bookkeeper has decided to add all these items to their former worker ¡°Friday¡¯s¡± ledger, and intend to collect the debt from him. After all, they don¡¯t work on charity.

    Inheritable Legacy Skills, Traits, and Paths

    <ul>

    <li>Debt: 759 gold (compounding interest)</li>

    <li>Path [Caravaner] Rank 3</li>

    <li>Path [Mercenary] Rank 1</li>

    <li>Path [Cook] Rank 2</li>

    <li>Skill [Camp Worker] Advanced</li>

    <li>Skill [Cooking] Basic</li>

    <li>Title [Possibly Simple]</li>

    </ul>

    <hr>

    Friday the 4<sup>th</sup>

    Legacy Story: The Hero and The Zero

    In a reality half a twist away from [Arcadia], lay another land visited by Travelers. There they are imbued with powerful abilities only dreamed of in their own world. Flight, teleportation, mind bending, and channeling the elements. Though most worlds forced to deal with Travelers boast the same supernatural effects.

    There, an overeager man, dreaming of flying through the sky, rescuing buxom maidens from dastardly villains, joined another million souls dreaming of the same thing. Though he was an older person with a decidedly aged taste compared to some of the brasher would-be heroes so his chances might have been larger. There is no accounting for taste.

    A few hurdles were presented to him, none of which could be overcome in a single visit to this reality. He returned, again and again, attempting to overcome the daunting task of learning to harness strange powers. He showed no aptitude for moving objects with his mind. He failed to summon otherworldly beings due to a poor ability to pronounce Latin. He could not ¡°hulk-out¡± in any form.

    The powers he ended up being able to channel allowed him to create wormholes. Not large ones. Not steady ones. Often times they went to unwelcoming places for human flesh. Yet teleportation is a highly valued power to heroes and villains. He found a mentor who wanted to help him harness this ability until they could find dimensions untouched by Travelers and Locals alike. Places that might give their ¡°characters¡± impressive levels of power. Power of course, being a way to get maidens and free drinks at the bar.

    On his seventh visit to the world of superpowers, under the guidance of his tutor, who was herself a finely aged buxom woman with no interest in men, Friday opened a portal to a giant anus, which proceeded to defecate violently. This did not suit the would-be-hero named Friday. It did not suit his mentor. It did not suit the rest of the tower, as the resulting sewage filled an entire hero base and spawned demons made of fecal matter.

    Shortly after, Friday stopped visiting the new world. Afterward, his former mentor and almost everyone near the literal shit-storm vowed to make sure Friday would ¡°clean up his act¡± or ¡°suffer the consequences.¡± They wait for signs of Friday¡¯s return.

    Inheritable Legacy Skills, Traits, and Paths

    <ul>

    <li>Power [Dimensional Portal]</li>

    <li>Path [Teleporter] Rank 3</li>

    <li>Path [Summoner] Rank 1</li>

    <li>Title [Disgusting Summoner]</li>

    <li>Skill [Minion] Rank 2</li>

    </ul>

    <hr>

    Friday the 5<sup>th</sup>

    Legacy Story: The Magus and The Demon

    Once a man charged up to a school of magic. He screamed ¡°I have a letter from an owl¡± at the top of his lungs. He got in on a provisional status, because Locals pity Travelers who are mentally ill. All Locals agree Travelers who are hampered by mind demons should be helped. It is the way of Locals.

    Though it¡¯s hard to say that this Traveler had madness driving him. His anger stemmed from a slight in another dimension. He raved to all who dared to listen. The man studied, delving into untouched stacks of books in search of answers. He screamed of links between dimensions and demonstrated skills not innate to Locals of [Arcadia].

    He studied. He studied furiously, learning all the arcane knowledge he could find to avenge a slight the Locals didn¡¯t understand. He showed promise in the arcane, in the powers of summoning creatures from other planes. He bargained with gray powers to get rare reagents. He avoided mercenaries who chased him onto the school grounds for a slight of his past. They came in droves while he claimed asylum based on school rules designed to protect the students during their studies.

    And when he gained enough knowledge and mastered his powers, the student opened a portal into a dimension where one sole demon resided. He dropped his drawers. He defecated into the portal, and screamed ¡°Revenge, motherfucker!¡± loudly in Latin.

    Afterward he vanished, never to be seen again.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Teachers and students ignored this incident until three weeks later, their tower was flooded with demon spawning refuse. They put some events together, questioned the mercenaries who had been chasing the Traveler named Friday, and decided someone must be punished for the dirty state of their tower.

    Not everyone was on board with this desire for paltry revenge. Many of the tenured teachers, who¡¯d been teaching Travelers for years, knew in another month some other equally insane situation would take place. Then the story of the demon who flooded their tower with crap would become a humorous tale, and a warning on accessing dimensions best left untouched.

    Inheritable Legacy Skills, Traits, and Paths

    <ul>

    <li>Skill [Speed Reader] Advanced</li>

    <li>Title [Foolish Summoner]</li>

    <li>Path [Arcane Mage] Rank 2</li>

    <li>Compound Path [Dimensional Magus] Rank 3</li>

    <li>Combines [Mage] and [Otherworldly Touch]</li>

    <li>Trait [Studious]</li>

    <li>Trait [Bookworm]</li>

    <li>Trait [Focused]</li>

    </ul>

    <hr>

    Friday the 6<sup>th</sup>

    Legacy Story: The Priest and The Voice

    In all worlds, redemption is earned, not given. Those who provide it for free know nothing of the soul. Priests, in all worlds, represent a calling. For Locals, they do not need to question if the Voices exist, for they live in a universe made by small gods. For Travelers, seeking higher powers in other worlds is dangerous.

    But some still question. They feel the world about them and seek places of worship to talk to priests that may not judge them in the same way. Still, they seek, and priests of lighter Voices assist where they can. They offer guidance, words of support, and a shoulder during trying times.

    Friday came to a cathedral. A place with windows made of pristine glass and shining spires. There, he sought an audience with God. Not the Voices of [Arcadia]. The Local priests did what they could. Travelers who understood a bit more, assisted with words of encouragement.

    There, Friday sought to become a man of the cloth. A healer. One who could fix other¡¯s bodies as he sought answers to his own soul. In months, he demonstrated a skill uncommon to Travelers, that of physical care. He bound wounds that might not have been cured without divine power. He set right bodies that were bent in wrong ways.

    For in his world, he claimed to be a [Doctor], and soon he proved to be so in [Arcadia]. As time passed, he proved to be adept at the healing arts. Every time he revisited the world, he would teach his fellow priests new techniques that might help save lives, if their prayers proved lacking.

    But Friday had a vice. He had sins. There is a testing that must be applied to all those seeking growth as [Priests]. Sometimes, Travelers fall to the darker Voices. Those who stand for vice and violence. Those who breathe in excess that is dangerous to the soul. They lure away weaker minds from all that is considered good in the worlds, for people both Traveler and Local alike.

    A vision was granted. What it was is a secret only known to The Voices who reached out to Friday. The results however, were soon apparent to all.

    He¡¯d failed, giving in to his vices. When he came to, Friday believed himself weak, and a failure, and a ¡°terrible father.¡± So he vanished from the world. Friday did not know that this is a test which people of the cloth face every day. His fellow [Priest]s know no matter what body Friday returns in, his soul and purpose will be tested again and again until the answers he seeks become apparent. They pray for his soul. Though actions will always speak louder than a silent heart. These priests watch for their former companion¡¯s soul to reappear.

    Inheritable Legacy Skills, Traits, and Paths

    <ul>

    <li>Companions [Light Priesthood Brethren]</li>

    <li>Path [Priest] Rank 3</li>

    <li>Path [Healer] Rank 5</li>

    <li>Skill [Spiritual Physician] Basic</li>

    <li>Skill [Soothing Voice] Advanced</li>

    <li>Heirloom Item Bound</li>

    <li>Trait [Fallen]</li>

    </ul>

    <hr>

    Friday the 7<sup>th</sup>

    Legacy Story: The Unspoken and The Disavowed

    Little is known of this version of Friday. He¡¯s a soul lost in space and time after an immediate disaster ruined his attempt to travel to other worlds. It¡¯s said that he showed up, was confronted with hunters sent by royalty, and immediately vanished into the ether from which he¡¯d been borne.

    Though this story isn¡¯t completely accurate. In truth, he survived eight days in the world while being hounded by his soul¡¯s past misdeeds. He went frothing mad at the skies and all those around, and was thrown in jail. A day later, people after the reward offered by a princess, showed up in hopes of dragging away his soulless husk for the sizable bounty.

    Only he¡¯d gone.

    Inheritable Legacy Skills, Traits, and Paths

    <ul>

    <li>[Criminal] value of 100 points</li>

    <li>[Branded] by a [Prisoner Mark]</li>

    <li>Skill [Lock Picking] Basi</li>

    </ul>

    <hr>

    Friday the 8<sup>th</sup>

    Legacy Story: The Barbarian and The Tree

    Far to the north is a tundra occupied by a savage race that only seems human. They are warriors of renown, warlocks of power, blacksmiths of mystic materials unseen in the south. They accept few to their wasteland, for each body birthed must pull their weight quickly or become a burden to the wandering tribes.

    One day, a Traveler appeared in their midst. He did not hunt. He did not tend the field or animals. Instead he carved wood and said nothing.

    Day after day he carved. When the wood ran out, he wandered into the wilderness and brought mighty trees low, and carved again. The others of his tribe watched their new member quietly. When he vanished from the world, as Travelers do, they took his carvings and left food in their place.

    For in the north, respect for crafters is immense. Those who create items to better the lives of a tribe bring honor and glory that a simple warrior cannot. The mightier the crafter, the stronger the power that comes from their products. Warriors used his carvings as totems to strengthen themselves against monsters of the wild. They placed statues in their homes to bring prosperity.

    Day after day, month after month this continued. One day the Traveler ventured into the woods.

    Children followed him. Small ones strong enough to fight back the weaker monsters, but not strong enough to face true horrors. They found the Traveler carving into a live tree. Faces of women with angry scowls. Faces that spoke of heartbreak, betrayal, and sorrow.

    The Traveler named Friday carved as if possessed by madness. With each crafted face his body seemed weaker.  As the final portrait reached completion, the Traveler fell to his side. The inherent strength that all northern men can summon forth drifted away. Blood dripped from his eyes and hands. He stared at the kids and said his first words ever. ¡°Run while you can.¡±

    The faces on the tree screamed. Friday¡¯s body stopped breathing and the children ran.

    Inheritable Legacy Skills, Traits, and Paths

    <ul>

    <li>Path [Wood Crafter] Rank 6</li>

    <li>Skill [Woodcarving] Expert</li>

    <li>Skill [Lumberjack] Advanced</li>

    <li>Title [Crafter of Woe]</li>

    <li>Foe [Deadlands Tree of Woe]</li>

    <li>Tribe Admiration [Heartland Wolves]</li>

    </ul>

    <hr>

    Friday the 9<sup>th</sup>

    Legacy Lore Story: The Station and The Cricket

    In space, no one can hear you dream. Or scream. They can see a bright enough gleam however, and that¡¯s exactly what the city-sized space station of [Outpost Zeta] did. It gleamed and was the only civilized place in the sector. Everywhere else, according to the dwellers upon [Outpost Zeta], was complete ¡°rubbish.¡± Actual adjectives used were much ruder.

    This station served as the first stop for many of the universe¡¯s races. Once they completed their training upon safer home environments, they met and set about working with other races to explore the stars, killing alien foes, and tinker with items that went ¡°boom¡± or ¡°zap¡± or ¡°psppsppsgglglglgl.¡± Though most people on the station were unsure what the last noise went with, it often made the station shake.

    Friday appeared one day. In the body of a tiny creature less than four feet high and fast, as all [Cricket] races were. He zoomed about the station at high speeds, crashing into objects, rubbing his forelegs together in pain, then dashing off to a new location.

    Often times he found himself in construction zones and shortly after, hurtling into space, where his body shut down in the cold. Drones would then have to retrieve him before the body splattered into an energy shield of one of the docked ships.

    He tinkered with objects. Strapped them to himself like a mad fool, and repeated his space dashes, often reaching farther each time. This, many assumed, was a self-destructive form of madness. To the [Cricket] named Friday, it was fun. He aimed to launch himself to a moon, though math had never been his strong point. He learned that even in the future, duct tape and grease solved most problems, including making opposing machines function in unison.

    He did not make it to the moon. He did leave an innumerable number of stains upon government spaceships, which he found a useful alternative. Soon others caught on, pelting the space stations protectorate cruisers with objects as a form of rebellion. Friday remained unaware of the changes, until one day, a full scale rebellion started.

    Friday wisely chose to vanish before he could be arrested as a leader of the rebellion. Though he honestly had no role in the protests.

    Inheritable Legacy Skills, Traits, and Paths

    <ul>

    <li>Path [Unstable Tinkerer] Rank 4</li>

    <li>Path [Survivalist] Rank 2</li>

    <li>Title [Rocket Man]</li>

    <li>Title [Insurrectionist]</li>

    <li>Skill [Mechanical Tinkerer] Advanced</li>

    <li>Skill [Unintentional Leader] Advanced</li>

    </ul>

    <hr>

    Friday the 10<sup>th</sup>

    Legacy Lore Story: The Tainted and The Tired

    It was said that in a town far away was a gathering of Locals. They¡¯d fled oppression by a Traveler who practiced a wicked form of curses. Despite their flight, a single spell harried them no matter where they relocated. The curse was simple, every morning one of them would be severely wounded.

    It hit everyone. Those who left were often hit, left stranded and alone in their attempted flight. They had no doctor and no healer who might lift the curse. They said prayers to the Voices that someone might save them. Their only solace is that the Voices made them sturdier and heal quickly.

    After months, a man stumbled into town. There he quietly worked to fix up Locals. He did not call upon the Voices or practice arcane body manipulation. He knew nothing of curses and how to fight them. He said little and exhaustion lined his face.

    He healed as best he could and asked only for a drink in return. For weeks he came. At times his spirit left, as Travelers often do, but still his soulless body worked away mechanically to set right what it could. They plied him with drinks until his sweat was saturated enough to start a fire, or so it was said.

    The curse did not take this lying down. The number of wounded each morning increased. Two, three, then four. So on it went, as the wandering man healed day and night.

    With each passing day their healer grew gaunter. His face became pale and hands shook. Some suggested he stop drinking but the man refused, saying it was the only thing which brought him solace.

    On it went, until one day their healer mumbled these words. ¡°I am a doctor, but what good does this do? I am one man fighting against endless tide of despair. I am alone, and I cannot do everything.¡± That night, after doing his best to set the last patient on the mend, he vanished.

    It¡¯s said that he left to fight the curse, and this may be true, for days after he ventured into the wild, the damage stopped. The people were freed of whatever had oppressed them. It¡¯s said they wear a banner in honor of their tireless doctor, who gave of himself until nothing remained.

    But of their savior, nothing was heard again.

    Inheritable Legacy Skills, Traits, and Paths

    <ul>

    <li>Trait [Exhausted]</li>

    <li>Trait [Post-Traumatic Stress]</li>

    <li>Title [Doctor]</li>

    <li>Skill [Medical Knowledge] Expert</li>

    <li>City Admiration [Heartland Southerners]</li>

    </ul>

    <hr>

    Friday the 11<sup>th</sup>

    Legacy Lore Story: The War and The Runner

    In [Arcadia] and many adjacent realms, conflict is a natural course of life. Between Locals, between Travelers, between monsters and forces from beyond. The realms clash with each other almost constantly.

    Some are fought in the shadows. Others on city streets. The worst are often outside castles, for Travelers seem to have a fascination with laying claim to stone fortifications. Often Travelers can be seen building them, only to leave as quickly as possible so that Travelers may keep each other distracted fighting over a meaningless plot of land.

    Such is the world.

    Occasionally such battles are in places housing Locals. These are the worst fights, for Local bodies do not simply disappear when they are gravely wounded. They persist. They cry in agony. And they plead for help.

    These fields are messy and there are many Travelers who dedicate themselves to running between the fields, ferrying people out at high speeds and setting right what they can. One such man distinguished himself, not only for bringing in those wounded, but saving many in the field who might have died otherwise.

    He made use of clothes to form splints. He performed surgery in the field, with little besides liquor for sterilization. For six days and nights the man could be seen running across the field. When he returned to the city with a wounded Local or Traveler, he often only asked for some water and a fresh bottle of liquor to help cleanse the wounded.

    By the battle¡¯s end, those who contributed were brought before the Local King and given gifts. The Traveler named Friday received a single item. A scroll said to be able to prevent the same amount of harm as he had healed, but only once.

    The man nodded and made his plans.

    In the next war, the king hoped to see such bravery again, but as for this Traveler, naught else was heard.

    Inheritable Legacy Skills, Traits, and Paths

    <ul>

    <li>Skill [Runner] advanced</li>

    <li>Skill [Pack Mule] basic</li>

    <li>Skill [Field Medic] advanced</li>

    <li>Title [Savior]</li>

    </ul>

    <hr>

    Friday the 12<sup>th</sup>

    Legacy Lore Story: The Calling and The Punishment

    Clothed in new body came an old spirit. He could be considered many things, for a man is more than one story in his time, yet all those stories share a theme. A wanderer of the fields, a man who desired nothing more than to be a healer. A lost soul who¡¯d appeared almost four years ago and handed out disaster and help in equal measure.

    He¡¯d made mistakes, too many to count, and to those slighted he owed a debt. In his time he¡¯d also earned favors. In other bodies, but still the same spirit.

    One day he dared own up to it all. No one could say if the problems of his past wore upon his mind. He sat in a quiet field, away from all Locals and Travelers, and shouted his admission to the Heavens. He shouted until the world shifted under his feet and the sky cracked with thunder.

    Then they came. The warriors of Heartland set out, for their savior had shown his face. Villager and barbarian alike arrived. Priests from his old clergy arrived and they awaited the return of their brother to the faith.

    Mages arrived, seeking compensation for the damages to their tower. Mercenaries sought repayment for their company¡¯s losses. The royal army of [Alpha Frontier] sought an insurrectionist. Hunters for the queen from the first Friday still sought a high bounty. Spirits arrived, hungry for the soul of a man who dared steal from their woods.

    On the field he sat. Shrouded in a divine spell he¡¯d stolen from sources unknown. With the comfort of knowing his body was protected by forces from beyond, he took time to provide all those gathered his thoughts.

    He cursed against his pursuers, friend and foe alike. He screamed and taunted and jeered. Mad fingers tore at his skin leaving scars that may have never healed. He shouted that he ¡°simply wanted to be left alone.¡± Then he told everyone to, and pardon this uncouth phrase ¡°fuck off and die!¡± before vanishing again, off to wear a new body to clothe his old soul.

    Those left behind did not agree. Those who came in support felt confused and warred against those who sought blood and retribution. In the end, all forces were left wounded.

    Those who survived cried out for justice. Those who were allies of Friday cried out for their lost healer to find peace. And as they always do, the Voices took note.

    It is only one Traveler among the millions. These are only some Locals among the billions. But of note is one Voice who watches for Friday to return. Hermes, Guardian of the Border between realms and Messenger. By his side is his wife. Hecate, the Voice of Crossroads and the dead. They wait, ready to provide a final chance for the man to confront his past.

    And a curse, said to be from an old lover of Friday¡¯s. The first.

    Inheritable Legacy Skills, Traits, and Paths

    <ul>

    <li>Substantial [Divine Attention]</li>

    <li>[Cursed by Nemesis]</li>

    <li>Added [Soul Lock]</li>

    <li>Added [Complete Legacy]</li>

    </ul>

    <hr>

    Friday the 13<sup>th</sup> ¨C currently logged out.

 Session 10 â€“ â€œWhoopsâ€

    Reality for last week had been crap but ended on a high note with lots of drinking and zero hangover. This latest work week had been worse and I¡¯d hoped to end it with an equal level of reckless imbibing.

    ¡°Unskilled labor¡± which is near what my job was, could be required to work insane amounts simply to afford enough to pay rent. I envied those whose parents had left behind fortunes for them to squander. One day I might be able to retire from this repetitive hell. Day jobs were like school but worse.

    A crappy week grew worse as I logged into a slew of unwelcome system notices. I picked through then found one that made me bang my head against a tree trunk. I''d fully activated the [Legacy] system. All of it. I''d somehow claimed twelve prior Friday''s worth of characters and didn¡¯t feel up to sorting through these notices in a rush.

    Some die hard who cared about numbers would have combed through every single item searching for power ups and new spells. I swiped the piles of messages to the side, sighed heavily a few more times, banged my head against the tree repeatedly, and wondered how soon my virtual life would turn to shit. Both eyes tightened and I berated myself for even thinking a curse word. Then I hated myself for feeling bad at being upset.

    There were plenty of things I couldn''t do about this mess, but there was hope that I could ride this out for a bit longer. Long enough to make a difference with that darn [Widow¡¯s Children] location. If nothing else, I wanted to do at least that right.

    It simply depended on what would show up next. I stood up and looked beyond the stupid system messages and my own mental navel gazing.

    There were tall trees all around me. Not one or two. I''d gotten lost in a lush forest and didn''t remember it. Around and around I spun searching for a sign of town. That didn''t get me anywhere. I flipped through the skills I''d gained for anything that might give me a sense of direction. None of the ones I''d gained helped with that. I had [Portal], [Shadow Movement], and [Cheap Drunk]. My virtual life and real life were both rudderless and without direction.

    Tall trees. Short trees. No bushes. No squirrels, or whatever fantasy creature passed for nut hoarders in this region of [Arcadia]. I wandered around searching for anything familiar. Worst case I''d delete myself and start over. Sadly I''d left behind all my food and drink for the dogs before logging off. Hopefully they were alright. I''d find someone to adopt them soon.

    "Hello?" I questioned while rolling my eyes. [Druid]s may be all about nature, but I''d gotten sick of being lost in the woods a few Fridays ago. The impulse to not think about prior Fridays got quashed. It didn''t matter anymore now that I''d triggered everything.

    "I hate being lost," I mumbled.

    Barking filled the air. I spun to find a pack of dogs rushing at me. They moved quick, dodging around trees with practiced ease.

    "Nice doggy!" Both hands went up in defensive. I''d had spells and abilities to stop from being attacked but they were lost in the sight of endless slobbering maws.

    I fell back. Dogs piled onto me.

    Protests flew forth. "No! Biting bad. Don''t bite. Don''t bite. I''m not tasty at all."

    Tongues assaulted me. Long wet carriers of goo and slime and dirt. I convulsed wildly, torn between trying to get away and losing my mind at not being eaten by monsters.

    Paws poked me in the side and groin causing me to cry out.One dog pushed past the others and nipped at my hand. I jerked it back and attempted to find any sign of life beyond the animals.

    Help wasn¡¯t arriving. I reached out for one of my floating screens in an effort to log out.

    ¡°Behave!¡± a woman shouted. The sudden sound made me pause. ¡°Rocky, heel!¡±

    The sudden shouting made me pause. Four dogs ran off to the other voice, barking happily. The fifth collapsed next to me and curled up to take a nap.

    I vaguely recognized the patterns on their backs. The one next to me had to be the laziest one of the group, that kept lagging behind while we were in the manner. With one hand I reached out to pet the startlingly half grown canine. These dogs were all easily double the size they had been before, triple even. I¡¯d been on a bender for most of our time together so I couldn¡¯t tell for sure.

    The new woman had a mob around her. ¡°Sit. Sit. No, sit. Sit your not going to get any food.¡±

    The four dogs padded around, bumping into her and fighting with each other for attention.

    I stood up slowly and gave the situation a once over. ¡°They like you,¡± I said.

    ¡°I like them. But they¡¯re liking me is part of the gig. Animals and dryads,¡± she said while pressing a hand against her green chest. Her brown armor didn¡¯t cover up an eye catching valley. ¡°Goes together. Mostly. More of a city girl myself but nature has it¡¯s appeal. Plus these guys are cute.¡±

    ¡°I can see that,¡± I said. She put out a hand and two of the hounds immediately fought over it, then tumbled over each other onto a distracted fourth.

    She rambled. ¡°Love dogs. Way better than cats. I detest cats. One ruined my prom dress and I¡¯ve hated them ever since.¡±

    ¡°Well thanks for keeping an eye on them.¡±

    Someone else had been taking care my dogs. Not that they were my dogs really. They were wild creatures I¡¯d left to fend for themselves for a few weeks of game time. Only they¡¯d survived. Did that qualify as nature, nurture, or simply someone else being a decent person?

    No pop up box answered my half-joke of a thought.

    ¡°Which one is Rocky?¡± I asked.

    A box popped up. It asked if I wanted to name a dog Rocky. A brief glow outlined the one with sharper features. Rocky must have been the leader. The box implied that her names hadn¡¯t been accepted by the system, or the pack of slobbering animals.

    ¡°Rocky,¡± she said while pointing to the one I¡¯d seen an outline on. ¡°Their leader. The one with a clever look in his eye. But he doesn¡¯t listen to simple commands, even after a week of trying to train them. So far all they want to do is chase people and eat.¡±

    ¡°Well. Rocky isn¡¯t his name.¡±

    ¡°It is too,¡± she insisted.

    The situation really hit me and I needed to blink slowly while my brain reset. Those were my five hounds from the [Widow¡¯s Children] location. They were alive. A green skinned woman with bark for clothing stood amid a mess of yapping dogs. She wanted to name one of them Rocky.

    ¡°Sit. Sit or I¡¯ll use the vines!¡± she shook a hand. Bushes around us twisted into new positions. The rustling made the dogs perk in unison and jerk their heads toward the moving plants.

    I¡¯d never run into a dryad as a player. At least, I was fairly sure this other person was a player. My interface had been disabled during my drunken bender so any indications on which person might be a Local or a Traveler had been banished.

    It was time to start over. Like the decent person my mom had told me to be.

    ¡°Hello. I¡¯m Friday.¡±

    ¡°No. Today¡¯s Friday. You¡¯re not a day. Because only an idiot would name themselves after a day.¡±

    Her slip confirmed the players status for me. [Arcadia] thought today was Thursday, but only because of the weird time compression rules. I¡¯d bet money on her name being something equally stupid but it wasn¡¯t my place to point out hypocrisy. It never went well, especially when arguing with a female.

    I gave a brief smile then moved on.

    ¡°Well, once again, they¡¯re still alive, so thank you,¡± I said. Dad had raised me to be polite, or so I told myself. He hadn¡¯t done much of anything aside from make sure I didn¡¯t starve and had a roof over my head.

    In hindsight, it was more than I¡¯d ever realized. The thought made me cast my eyes down for a moment. This damn game was like that, something in here would trigger a stray thought of the past and for a moment time would skip.

    By the time I returned to the conversation, the dryad had moved on. ¡°My daughter said they needed to be watched. I didn¡¯t have anything to do today so, dog sitting. I love dogs.¡±

    She was gushy. I couldn¡¯t get a feel for age based on green skin, but the woman in front of me carried herself like a confused teenager.

    Event Notice!

    Ditsy or Demanding, Dryad¡¯s Domain

    I swiped away the message without reading much beyond the title. Whatever it said probably didn¡¯t matter compared to everything else. If it became an issue, I¡¯d track back and give it a once over.

    First stop, I¡¯d get back to town. From there I could find Johnny. Then we could probably go check out [Widow¡¯s Children] with my new and improved ranks. The old butler there might give me an actual quest.

    ¡°There a road nearby?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s that way. Maybe a minute or two if you sprint, can¡¯t miss it. Then that mess of a town¡¯s that way a few miles.¡± She kept trying to point but the dogs were jumping for her arms. ¡°There¡¯s loggers though. They keep invading and I¡¯ve been leaving my autopilot on to fight them.¡±

    Once again, her word choice confirmation the player status.

    ¡°It¡¯d be useful if you left yours on too. Then we might keep this place in one piece. Though it¡¯s got too much power for most of the low ranks,¡± she suggested.

    I couldn¡¯t figure out how I felt about that right now. My autopilot would probably flop around and drink heavily. She¡¯d said this place had a lot of power which made sense given my skills had probably jumped.

    ¡°Probably my fault,¡± I mumbled then brought up my windows again. I¡¯d ignored them all due to the vague sense of impending doom.

    There it was, [Druid] Path, Rank ten. I¡¯d shot a lot of ranks in my brief absence, and regained a few minor Paths. Apparently I¡¯d gained [Cook] back as well, which would help if I had to feed dogs. I couldn¡¯t figure out how all my other stuff managed to actually bump up this new Path though.

    ¡°Yeah. If this is tied to my rank it would have sky rocketed while I was gone. And,¡± I squinted at the screens. ¡°Apparently this is my grove?¡±

    I didn¡¯t understand that at all. I mean, I did, but I didn¡¯t remember setting up a grove of any sort. The quest to find my mentor still hung there, waiting for me to finish it. It¡¯d help to track down the [Stellar Druid] that might be my mentor and ask questions about this class.

    Maybe he¡¯d want to have a few drinks. This was the weekend after all. In real life.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know! Might be mine. I planted my tree over there, so don¡¯t be a dick and chop it down. Or I¡¯ll have to get my daughter to stab you. She¡¯s been really into stabbing people lately.¡±

    The dryad might have been joking but I didn¡¯t know for sure. The woman stared at me past a mob of bouncing dogs. They leapt up in the air trying to bite at her arms for attention.

    There was something disturbing about having her glare at me so intensely. I put a mark in the ¡°delete this Friday soon¡± box. I could come back as a some other character that hadn¡¯t met the clearly thriving dogs, this forest, or any other bit of possible annoyance.

    ¡°Well? You going to fuck with my tree or not?¡±

    ¡°Not?¡± That seemed like the right answer but pop quizzes from women were often laden with traps. There were multiple reasons I didn¡¯t date anymore, and a decade of failing relationship cues was only one.

    ¡°Good.¡± She nodded.

    Green, I decided, made noses look pointier than normal. It also shimmered more from sweat than the normal array of colors.

    ¡°Good,¡± I echoed slowly then sped up. Her bubbling words were contagious. ¡°My grove. Your tree. Lots of dogs. Loggers. Right outside town. It¡¯s a perfect family.¡±

    My stomach sank. That had been a stupid thing to say.

    Her nose wrinkled. ¡°I have a family, thanks. If I wanted a new one I wouldn¡¯t pick a part time flake like you.¡± She put up a hand while I considered asking her name again. ¡°Oh. Gotta go! Rose will be on in a bit if you want to group with her. Maybe a few hours in here?¡±Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Her arm waved in the air, pressing at a box I couldn¡¯t see. The woman paused to lift an eyebrow at me.

    ¡°I do have some quests,¡± I said slowly.

    Her daughter was Rose? I did mental math and realized this woman must be older than I¡¯d expected. Maybe close to my age. That would be a little bit more my speed, except for older women often came with miles of baggage, which is why I¡¯d decided, at some point I was sure, to be single for the rest of my life.

    The color about her faded slightly, turning bright green and sweaty kind semi pasty. I had to assume that sudden shift happened because of her autopilot taking over.

    ¡°Come on puppies! Good puppies. Let¡¯s go stop some loggers,¡± she said, then ran off.

    Next to me, the fifth dog got up slowly, licked my face, then ran off after the other pack members. Their barking filled the air.

    ¡°Bye?¡± I questioned again.

    The game had blind sided me with that whole mess. The chances of a dryad race character moving into a grove I¡¯d planted last weekend were low. It was also unlikely that she¡¯d like dogs and be Rose¡¯s mother.

    I frowned, put away thoughts of some grand conspiracy, and chalked the whole mess up to Continue¡¯s crazy way of making stuff fit together. Players contributed to the world, and each other, more than any grand story lines created by the computer.

    ¡°At least she took care of the dogs,¡± I said while nodding.

    All in all, I almost liked her. Even if the rest of this character went wrong, I could be sure she¡¯d keep the animals safe.

    Off I went.

    The trees were thinner and the road itself became pretty obvious. With a little effort I could have found it myself. I shook my head, ignoring the braying of hounds in the distance, and marched in a direction that probably went to town.

    I checked my inventory on the way. According to the game interface I¡¯d left myself with zero liquor, food, water, and gold. If I¡¯d really claimed my [Legacy]s, I¡¯d find myself in the negatives quick. Bartenders didn¡¯t give tabs to [Criminals] or people with [Debt]

    [Cook] came with known recipes. There were a few for poorly roasted animals and some that might make a passable drink next weekend, but none of them would let me magically assemble a beer from nothing.

    Or would they? I poked around the windows searching through some of the weirder stuff I¡¯d picked up over a dozen characters. My [Enchanting] from the first Friday had unlocked, giving me a whole two glyphs. Those were fancy spells I could trace onto items.

    I¡¯d park those for later. I¡¯d never tried to use them on a higher Path character before so maybe they¡¯d be useful or it might be like farting in a whirlwind.

    Some of these skills would let me sneak around easier. I¡¯d done that on two characters and those were useful. [Dimensional Magus] seemed to have unlocked something that had been blurred out by my interface. I barely remembered how any of that worked.

    My hands waved in a vague outline of a beer. ¡°Summon liquor!¡± I tried again, taking care to sketch out a rough handle. My fingers glowed a bit but nothing happened. [Summoner], [Foolish Summoner], [Dimensional Magus], and [Cook] did not automatically give me an ability to summon drinks. It should have.

    What I couldn¡¯t figure out, is how [Druid] had jumped so much. Being a Rank five [Priest] might play a part since they both healed, but nature and the Voices were way different in this game. It didn¡¯t make sense.

    Maybe I needed to combine some of the spells. The one¡¯s I¡¯d learned for [Enchanting] were drawing based, and [Druid] spells could form in the air. I attempted to trace them out and trigger a result but apparently combinations didn¡¯t work like that.

    Sometimes the game world annoyed me. Everything we did in here had to go with a sort of mental trigger, or action taken. Mages cast almost everything by chanting [Lithium] or using prepared spells. Everything I¡¯d learned as a mage in that crash course college, which was essentially a cram school, had been about math and angles and reflections.

    Granted, I¡¯d also taken courses focused on summoning a hole into another dimension to return the favor of crapping on a monster. That had required me to take courses proving a connection between Continue Online, Advance Online, Progression Online, and so on.

    They were connected. Apparently with enough levels, or Ranks, I could have opened a portal straight back to the superhero world of Progression and simply had my skills transfer over.

    Instead, they¡¯d joined me here. I checked the abilities again and tried to remember how to cast everything from a year ago. If I¡¯d put more effort into gaining Ranks, I might have been able to open a portal straight to town.

    A whole bunch of half formed mishmashes occurred during the walk to town but none of them solidified. I¡¯d play around with it more with a drink or two in me.

    The hounds barked as they ran through the woods ahead of me. The dryad¡¯s form chased after them. Green energy flowed from her fingertips and wind rushed through the trees.

    My head shook. This forest had probably gone insane because of both our Path¡¯s. One of the dogs circled back to me, jumped up and licked my face.

    All this walking, and they were still beating me places by running around like wild animals. I reaffirmed my belief in not caring about micromanaging skills right now and continued on toward the town.

    Maybe that was part of the [Druid] path. What would happen, would happen. Trying to nail down every single aspect of the world and how events might turn out had been a mage trait.

    Town loomed on the horizon. I heard my dogs barking in the distance. They weren¡¯t stealthy, at least, two of them weren¡¯t. I¡¯d been fairly sure that with five dogs there should have been a lot more noise.

    The noise of the dogs brought back memories. I¡¯d worked with canines before in the service. Not directly, they had handlers, but those guys had been everywhere when we were out and about. Canines were still better bomb sniffers, and couldn¡¯t go down when someone scrambled the technology.

    Life had been simple then. Scary, but straight forward. People told me when to sleep, when to eat, when to go back to something vaguely civilized and rest. Even when I¡¯d been put on a medical rotation, it¡¯d been more of the same. Check people over, change their bandages. Apply goop. Wipe goop off.

    Now I had bills. My dad hadn¡¯t prepared me for bills. Or children. Or anything.

    ¡°What are you staring at?¡± someone shouted.

    I blinked a few times and tried to figure out an answer to his question. There were four mules, or something close with hairier legs. They were staring at me.

    They had not been my focus.

    There were lots of trees nearby, but there were stumps too, freshly cut with wood shavings all over the place. The wooded area thinned out considerably, giving way to the player town.

    ¡°Right,¡± I responded. Pack animals for players and Locals were fairly close to earth standard versions. In the front north they¡¯d had these stocky creatures that were like six legged ostriches.

    ¡°Right what?¡±

    Players out at the edge of the woods shouting at each other. One had focused on me. Nervous looking guards had crappy swords at the ready. The best thing about town guards is their skill levels were almost always obvious based on their gear and how they stood. Players, not so much.

    ¡°Ignore him. He¡¯s clearly some low rank training his wilderness skills. He¡¯ll be off adventuring in a week or two.¡±

    ¡°This close to town? That¡¯s stupid. We shouldn¡¯t even be a starter town.¡±

    ¡°Hey! The council voted on it so we¡¯d get bonuses and cheap labor, like you.¡± He pointed at the other player with his cheap wood saw. ¡°Besides, everyone starts somewhere. Now let¡¯s get these damn trees down while the dogs are distracted.¡±

    ¡°Damn dogs!¡± the other player shouted in agreement. He lifted an equally shitty hand saw and put it to the base of a tree.

    ¡°Hey!¡± I mimicked his earlier tone. ¡°No logging.¡±

    The player stared at me in confusion.

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°Because I said so¡± never went well with players. People, I¡¯d found over the years, cared little enough in real life. They cared even less in a virtual world where most things could be walked away from. Me as a solid case and point. Normally I wouldn¡¯t care either, but that dryad had asked nicely enough and the dogs were happy and well fed.

    I went with logic. ¡°The forest is a path of mine. Gives bonuses. You really want to chop it down?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    I felt fairly sure I¡¯d been speaking English. Or whatever language we used here in the virtual world.

    ¡°This is my grove,¡± I said.

    ¡°Well, I need a new house!¡± the player shouted back. ¡°And who the hell are you?¡± His cry rallied others nearby.

    ¡°The druid who owns this place!¡± Logic was failing.

    ¡°Bullshit. No druids are high enough rank in town to have a grove this big.¡±

    ¡°Am too. I even got the bear feet to prove it. And a bunch of other mighty druid powers.¡± I gestured to my feet. Thankfully they were only bare feet, not bear feet. Plus, I could drink like a fish. That had to be a [Druid] power.

    Really, I was still reeling from rejoining the game, finding a dryad, dogs, and all the woes of my past.

    ¡°Well these trees are growing all over. They¡¯re going to ruin the town!¡± the first loggers aid.

    ¡°They already ruined my house while I was gone. I need a new house.¡± The second one pointed above me.

    I turned briefly and glanced up. There was a house, if anyone could call it a house, caught between tree branches at least twenty feet off the ground. It looked more like an outhouse with a ¡°Wecleome¡± sign. I briefly wondered if the mispelled sign was the game being mean, or the player being bad at [English].

    ¡°You gonna replace my house mister fancy pants druid with raggedy clothes? Bet you ain¡¯t got a silver in your pocket!¡±

    I didn¡¯t. I¡¯d drank it all away last weekend.

    ¡°Yeah, give him back his house! And I need wood to level up my carving skills.¡±

    ¡°You can level it fine using broken branches. Until at least Rank three.¡± I¡¯d done exactly that. Even now, I could probably do it again since I¡¯d inherited that Friday¡¯s leftovers. My eyes tightened in brief worry. That tree would probably find me again in another month. I did not have the mental fortitude to deal with the evil-exs I¡¯d carved onto it.

    ¡°Well I¡¯m rank three now!¡± the second man jabbed himself with the saw then winced in sudden pain. The tree felling instrument hit the dirt as he danced around cursing. ¡°God damn this game!¡±

    They hadn¡¯t been playing long. At least, not if they were jabbing themselves with weapons they hadn¡¯t put away. Part of me felt confused that people were still new to any of the Trillium games. After almost six years, nearly anyone should have at least spent a few hours inside virtual reality.

    But I¡¯d also banged myself with my staff upon recovering it, so what did I know?

    ¡°Don¡¯t chop down my trees or I¡¯ll make them grow legs and attack you.¡±

    ¡°Try it! I¡±ll get a raid on your forest and burn it all down.¡±

    ¡°Then you won¡¯t have lumber for a house.¡±

    ¡°Fuck you!¡±

    I waffled a bit on how much it really mattered to me when a box popped up.

    Event Notice!

    Naturalist Naturally Numb?

    While a bit of a stretch, it¡¯s interesting to note that you¡¯re still walking a fine line between nature, that is letting a place like this grow wildly all on it¡¯s own, and nurture, that is, caring enough to put up a token effort to stop people. Maybe that makes you a true druid. Maybe it makes you an indecisive idiot.

    It¡¯s less about what you do each moment, but what you¡¯ve done with your life as a whole. As your [Legacy] shows, you¡¯re a man somewhere in the middle. You want to be left alone, but still want to be with people. You want to help others, but still see the futility of it all.

    Find your mentor and ask what they think. Or don¡¯t.

    I sighed, swiped the notice away, and waved off the loggers. Right on cue the hounds barked, stomping through the trees.

    Mules brayed and kicked up clods of dirt. They ran. The two loggers threw their hand saws at each other and took off. Even the shoddy guardsmen backed up wearily, hands on their swords.

    I gave my [Portal] spell from a few Friday¡¯s ago a whirl and managed to open up a thumb sized gateway to fecal matter land, right in front of the fleeing men. Crap poured out onto the ground, which the man promptly stepped right into and slipped forward.

    Their escape turned into a comedy of errors.

    My head tilted briefly. Had my pack of hounds really become that scary? Maybe the autopilot dryad with them made a difference, or being in a grove. I felt sure the answers were somewhere in the depths of all my windows but I¡¯d only been back in the game an hour or so.

    Reading and doing math took way too much focus for sober me. [Speed Reader], one of the skills I¡¯d gained, only did so much. [Studious], [Bookworm], and [Focused] would matter if I cared to sit down.

    In the army I might have been willing to sit down and piece it all together. That was the problem with growing older, the stuff I cared about narrowed. It was freeing, in a sense, to realize how little much of life mattered.

    The dirty road would have bothered me before the military. Now it simply reminded me of being on patrol.

    The loud sounds all around would have bothered me, but I¡¯d grown used to teenagers screaming and people freaking out in the ambulance. This chaotic player based city failed to impress me.

    I wove through town heading to the most likely place to find Johnny. If he was online, he¡¯d be selling his services at the [Adventuring Hall], which is the fancy name for our town¡¯s rally point. Raids on bosses started there. People put up fliers asking for resources. Crafters hawked their services.

    If I felt like carving some wood statues, I could sell them there. I¡¯d been good at it too. My better works could make cold nights warmer, buff up perception, act as sentries. It had been a lot like enchanting, but involved doing something with my hands. As long as I didn¡¯t carve a tree with my ex girlfriends faces on it again, it¡¯d be worth resuming the skill. It probably figured into the [Druid] path growing.

    Johnny stood on a corner of the road hopping back and forth. His eyes drafted from player to player searching out his next mark. If I let him be, he¡¯d soon be hounding someone about betting on wyvern races and citing how he knew which dingle tingled wrongly today.

    ¡°Johnny!¡± I shouted.

    He head whipped around so fast that his entire body ended up doing a three sixty.

    His feet came to a bumbling halt. ¡°Friday?¡± he questioned then scrunched up his face.

    We were too far apart and the other players were loud. I walked close so his voice would be clearer. The shorter man with his hairy feet glared up at me then squinted even harder.

    ¡°What happened to your face?¡±

    [Beat With Ugly Stick] happened to to my face and the rest of me. I didn¡¯t rely on my looks to get by. Oscar Award winner material I was not. Players walked by but they ignored us. Neither of us were wearing decent clothes and in most regular people¡¯s eyes, we were probably newbies. I had been sort of one last weekend. Now my stats were all skewed and wildly higher than before.

    ¡°Fell down some stairs,¡± I answered.

    Johnny snorted. ¡°That drunk huh? Because it looks like you fell up the stairs too. I think I have some cream for that. Put color back in your cheeks. Forty gold.¡±

    ¡°No thanks. These lumps add to my charm.¡±

    ¡°Charm¡¯s not a stat.¡±

    He reached out and patted a player¡¯s rear. The man turned around and glared at Johnny. He shrugged. I felt fairly sure he¡¯d stolen some of the players money but the other man wouldn¡¯t notice.

    ¡°Sure it is,¡± I insisted while pretending nothing had happened. ¡°And swagger. And moxie.¡±

    ¡°Got a cream for your archaic sense of word choice. Ten gold.¡±

    That reminded me of an old joke I¡¯d heard while in boot camp. One of the guys I bunked with used to repeat the same line every time I used too many out of place words.

    ¡°You can take the city out of the girl,¡± I stopped talking. ¡°Darn. Can¡¯t remember the rest of that one.¡± Johnny¡¯s eyebrow lifted slowly.

    I shrugged then said, ¡°Guy I knew in the service used to spout it.¡±

    Johnny shook his head. ¡°Got a cream for your bad jokes. One for your lumpy ass too. Those one costs more. We¡¯ll have to raid a guild¡¯s headquarters for the bad joke cream though. IT¡¯s a high demand item.¡±

    I snorted, which devolved into full chuckling. Johnny joined in. He¡¯d been joking, which was a far cry from last weekend, where he¡¯d been all but begging me to help him out. Whatever the fallout from our half baked caper had been, he¡¯d clearly come out ahead.

    ¡°Tell you what, you get us some drinks, I¡¯ll supply the additive, and we¡¯ll go fight ourselves a dungeon.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Johnny might have meant ¡°why do I have to get the drinks?¡± but I pretended to misunderstand him. With my Legecy¡¯s recovered, there was a large chance that I¡¯d be denied at every bar in town. Having criminal points made getting a bar tab hard.

    ¡°Widow¡¯s Children. I want to go back there.¡±

    ¡°You want to, what?¡±

    Johnny¡¯s jaw cranked slowly like I¡¯d broken some essential function in his brain.

    ¡°I want to fix that place. We can go back and stop that curse, prevent the whole teraforming. Remove the dungeon entirely.¡±

    ¡°I thought that was just a lie you told the others to sound cool. Stoney didn¡¯t say you¡¯d actually been serious.¡±

    Trust those kids to think I¡¯d been joking. I shook my head, waved at Johnny, and wandered off in the direction of [Widow¡¯s Children]. Somewhere along the way I remembered I had a map. It didn¡¯t look that far to walk.

    ¡°Seventy gold! No, two hundred!¡± Johnny¡¯s frantic hopping knocked over another players, still he kept on trying to wheedle money of out me. ¡°Friday! For three gold I¡¯ll find us another way in. Come on man. I need the money.¡±

    I turned to march steadily toward the instance. The sooner I explored that place and solve it, the sooner I could feel like I¡¯d done one shitty thing right in my life.

    ¡°Friday!¡± Johnny yelled. ¡°Come on man. I¡¯ve got five kids to feed.¡±

    My bold stride off to the edge of town faltered. Johnny had kids? No, I decided. He was probably tossing out one of his half baked bits of nonsense to distract me. I checked my money in case, but realized it still said zero. I didn¡¯t have a copper to my name and that would be alright, as long as Johnny brought the drinks.

 Session 11 - Five Kids To Feed

    The stonewall outside the manner remained unchanged. The landscape as a whole hadn¡¯t shifted despite all the healing and transformed tree from last weekend. Whatever progress we¡¯d made turning the undead wonderland into a normal one had been removed by the passage of time.

    We were casually sipping beers, or the fantasy version which equated well enough thanks to virtual reality¡¯s immersion. I stopped every so often to study the drink and wonder how I could feel so perfectly drunk inside a simulation, but there¡¯d been studies on it. I¡¯d read them a few years back as part of my last-ditch attempts to get a job as a real doctor, instead of running around with an unused degree. Continue Online, the ARC device that ran it, and all these other games, operated off of memory triggers.

    I think; therefore I think I am, I think. That¡¯s how the line went from that song. That¡¯s how the game did its magic. Thinking became action. Action became a scene. That scene became thought. We were all living out our impulses.

    Johnny explained our goals to Rose. She moved into my line of sight, blocking a perfectly terrible view of a rundown mansion at sunset.

    ¡°He wants to go back in there,¡± Johnny repeated for the umpteenth time.

    ¡°You want to what?¡± Rose asked me instead of taking Johnny at his word.

    That was an open call for random answers. ¡°Go back in time and undo my worst mistakes. Have sex with Lawrence McKnight. Throw a rock from the moon to New Jersey and hope it lands on someone from my High School.¡±

    I hated New Jersey as a whole. But my answer hadn¡¯t addressed what she probably meant. After a drink or ten the truth and my impulses equated out to the same thing.

    Her frown could win awards. ¡°How are you drunk again?¡±

    ¡°Careful planning. Mastery of my thumbs. It¡¯s been weeks since my last drink.¡±

    Rose ignored my quips and plugged her nose. She glared at the beer like it had been squeezed from a devil¡¯s ball sack. Her nose wrinkled as she said, ¡°I still have a hangover from last week.¡±

    ¡°Weeks.¡± I lifted my drink for another swig.

    Rose tilted her head back. ¡°Days at most.¡±

    I wanted to think upbeat and wholesome thoughts, but inebriation removed some of the filters. Being positive took a toll. Being cynical took a few out too.

    A shoulder went up. ¡°None of this is real. Be stronger than the game.¡±

    Johnny shifted us back on topic. ¡°Seriously. Friday wants to go back into that manor. You know, that one. He¡¯s even going to pay me for finding secret rooms.¡±

    ¡°With what money?¡±

    That was an easy question. ¡°He can have whatever drops. He can have it all. You can too. I don¡¯t care, I just want to make this place better.¡±

    Rose looked unsatisfied. ¡°Why here? We were barely at rank for it last time, and if we¡¯re the only group, it¡¯ll be way harder. I mean, the only way we managed last time was having a bunch of other cannon fodder lowering the average ranks for the region.¡±

    Rose was full of unhelpful tidbits. She probably didn¡¯t know my rank had shot up. Or maybe she did.

    ¡°He thinks he can solve it. Just play along. Friday gets these crusades, and nothing stops him except drama. I¡¯d say he was tilting at windmills but that¡¯d make me Sancho. I don¡¯t like Sancho. Not even for gold.¡±

    We both paused to stare at the shorter man.

    Johnny glanced at me once then pretended we weren¡¯t discussing his inevitable side-kick status.

    Rose gave in and asked, ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°He crusades. Gets these wild impulses to do a thing. You should have seen some of the earlier versions of Fridays,¡± Johnny said.

    ¡°Tell me?¡±

    ¡°Three gold per character.¡±

    ¡°How about I don¡¯t gut you for last week?¡±

    ¡°Deal,¡± Johnny said with a stern nod. ¡°But I¡¯m keeping the juiciest bits to myself.¡±

    I didn¡¯t bother stopping their discussion. There were no reasons to avoid the [Legacy] system after it had been triggered. Once the leftovers of my prior characters caught up, then I¡¯d delete myself and lay low again for a month or two. It¡¯d worked so far.

    Would the pups want to return here? They¡¯d been born in the manner, as much as any digital creature could be. We¡¯d killed their evil frothing undead parents. I¡¯d also left a herd of healed dogs somewhere around here but there were no signs of them. I couldn¡¯t see any dogs roaming the landscape from here, so maybe we¡¯d solved one aspect of this nightmare.

    ¡°We might be able to do it too. Friday¡¯s ranks are a lot better. His healing has to be on point. Or at least more effective, even if he¡¯s drunk as a skunk. Plus, he¡¯s got a stealth class or two, right?¡±

    My eyes went wide as I got my thoughts in order. They were right. Johnny had always been sneaky. I had recovered my prior classes. Even Rose might be able to learn something since her [Coordination] trait must have been decent to use two daggers.

    ¡°Yeah. We can do that. If I remembered how, we could even put in a portal.¡± Portals were hard to keep open for long. They took a ton of mana. ¡°Or maybe I could do a shadow portal. Or something. It¡¯s been a few months since I used any of those skills and not all of them came over.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that Shadow path all about?¡±

    ¡°I spent about, four. Five? Weekends in a haunted forest that had dark faeries and stuff all over it. We, me and this other duder with wings I¡¯d rescued. We were skipping through magical shadows he summoned. After about thirty I learned how to open my own. Got a skill, and some character trait.¡±

    ¡°And teleporter?¡± Rose asked.

    ¡°Part of the dimensional magus,¡± I drifted off. It all blurred together. ¡°I¡¯d need a few hours to get it working together. Most of these were from a few weekends of hard playing then I stopped.¡±

    ¡°So, you don¡¯t remember how to do any of them,¡± Rose said flatly.

    ¡°Nope. Except the portal to a demon¡¯s outhouse. And seeing in the dark. That¡¯s a passive. Oh and there¡¯s a chance some evil faeries may crawl out of the shadows at me in, maybe a few days.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Friday makes friends everywhere he goes. This one time, he had a character who was a medic in the king¡¯s army,¡± Johnny said.

    He was about to launch into the tale of Friday the eleventh. I cut him off with a correction, ¡°Doctor. I was a doctor.¡± I brightened and lifted my drink. ¡°I am one! Hah, take that nay Sayers. I¡¯m a doctor again. And a priest. And a druid.¡±

    ¡°And a drunk,¡± Rose muttered.

    I nodded. She had me dead to rights. ¡°This is my days off. On which we shall have a high adventure fighting an undead curse of questionably epic proportions. You in?¡±

    Rose paused a few seconds then nodded. ¡°Sure. If it¡¯ll give me stuff to stab.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Yeah, I can do enchants too. Low rank,¡± my head dropped as I flipped through a wall of text in my menu. There were options buried under more options based on the stuff I¡¯d unlocked. Luckily having a decent [Knowledge] carried over from all my prior characters meant the game kept great notes.

    That was the only real recognition the [Knowledge] stat came with. The higher it got, the better the game kept track of all the stuff I¡¯d ¡°Learned¡± during my playing. Thankfully this place didn¡¯t have some stupid intelligence stat that¡¯d pretend I was smarter than in reality.

    I tracked down the spell pattern for both glyphs and practiced a few times. They were surprisingly close to how druid spells functioned. Trace a marker on an item.

    Rose went back to asking Johnny questions about my past. ¡°What¡¯s that about a king¡¯s army?¡±

    ¡°Kings. There were four. Five?¡±

    ¡°Four,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe five.¡±

    ¡°Multiple. I forgot their names. They were all greeks.¡± Johnny shrugged. ¡°Anyway, Friday here saddles up, and volunteers to be a field medic. He didn¡¯t have an ounce of magic on that character.¡±

    ¡°That was after the priest,¡± I said.

    My shirt came off. Sketching a rune didn¡¯t take much beside a flat surface, some magic, and a lot of mana. There were a few ways to donate the mana, according to my disjointed memory. I could burn items or use my own mana to sustain a rune. They¡¯d basically put a passive drain on me that would be countered by mana regen, or if I had an even higher level of skill, I could attach them to an item¡¯s mana pool.

    There were also Path perks. The higher the path, the more runes I could have active at one time. They cost less, or were more effective, or whatever. I¡¯d need to put one on my clothes using base mana to see how much it¡¯d leave me drained. Complicated didn¡¯t even begin to describe crafting skills.

    ¡°He was really a priest?¡±

    I lifted a finger. ¡°Still am. And I¡¯m a doctor.¡±

    ¡°But not a priest anymore. He hates the Voices,¡± Johnny added.

    They weren¡¯t getting it. ¡°Still a priest! Again. Voices I hope the Voices don¡¯t find me.¡± I¡¯d said something different but what the game uttered and what I thought weren¡¯t always perfectly in line.

    ¡°Why?¡± Rose asked.

    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him!¡± I shouted. My fourth attempt at marking the [Stealth] rune succeeded. The dirty shirt I¡¯d marked took on a faint hue of the earth it sat upon. Or maybe it¡¯d always been that color. My eyes narrowed in a squint. None of my characters had good [Identification] skills. That was a fault of mine.

    Most of it boiled down to me hating system notices with a passion. They were annoying, got in the way, and mostly pointless.

    ¡°I can¡¯t see you praying,¡± Rose said.

    Down went the shirt. I stared at the high brick wall I¡¯d been using as a surface for the runes. ¡°Find yourself in a deep dark mental hell of your own making and see if you don¡¯t try talking to god just once.¡± Both went quiet. I took my beer from the top of the brick wall, gulped down another mouthful, then help up the shirt. ¡°Does this look stealthy to you?¡±

    Their answers left a lot to be desired. On I went, giving us better gear than before. Now we were a collective batch of scrubby looking characters with above level enchants.

    Eventually I managed to get a rune out for each of us. [Regeneration] for Johnny, and [Stealth] for Rose, on top of the [Stealth] I¡¯d left on my own. It should stack with all my other inherited passives. The less people saw me, the happier I¡¯d be.

    Johnny filled up the air with small talk about the prior Fridays. Rose seemed vaguely interested but I couldn¡¯t tell why. My past had little to do with her, or even Johnny for that matter. He probably had a dozen stories about himself were easily more entertaining.

    Rose stared at the side of my face. I ignored her and pondered the deep mysteries of the blurry mansion. Eventually she asked, ¡°Your cook path come with anything useful?¡±

    There wouldn¡¯t be much else we could do besides wade in. I¡¯d have to figure out how to call the dogs. I¡¯d been sure one of my quest texts said something about giving the dogs a home then being able to summon them forth. With the other skills stacking on top of what the game had set me up for, it¡¯d be that much easier.

    ¡°Not really.¡± My cooking skills would all end up with burnt toast. I¡¯d been a bit better working with that mercenary troop, but my soup butcheries were only a little bit better than rations. ¡°The dogs would love it if they were here. I could probably summon them if I knew their names. But they don¡¯t have names yet.¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t named your dogs?¡±

    ¡°Your mom tried to,¡± I said.

    ¡°Ohhhhh,¡± Johnny responded.

    My eyebrow lifted. ¡°That wasn¡¯t an insult. Her mom actually tried to.¡±

    Johnny rubbed his hands together and turned toward our rogue. ¡°Your mom plays? Is she hot?¡±

    ¡°Ten gold,¡± Rose put out a hand.

    ¡°Ohhhhh,¡± I chimed in.

    ¡°That¡¯s fair. But no.¡± Johnny nodded and fingered his newly enchanted and still holey pants. We were all one step away from vagabonds. None of my classes had sewing skills. I should have done that somewhere in this stupid game but had never felt the need.

    I went back to the important topic we¡¯d diverted to. ¡°But seriously, your mom¡¯s in my forest.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s looking after the dogs, right?¡±

    That was pretty nice of Rose, if she somehow got her mom to play and keep an eye on the animals.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I replayed the brief confusing encounter in my head. ¡°And she¡¯s a dryad? How¡¯d she get that race?¡±

    Rose put palm to face and shook her head.

    ¡°A what? Oh god no.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I told her about a druid, so she probably,¡± Rose stopped abruptly, slapped her face again groaned. ¡°Don¡¯t sleep with her, or we can¡¯t hang out anymore.¡±

    ¡°That was an option?¡± I asked. Sleeping with a green skinned woman hadn¡¯t been on my bucket list, but if she was a real person and not some Local, it might be worth pursuing.

    ¡°With enough gold, anything¡¯s an option.¡± Johnny smiled.

    He had a point. Money made the worlds go around. Virtual and real and whatever else may be out there. If God existed, I felt sure he liked gold. At least, that¡¯s what my brief interaction with priests taught me. Penitence for all lay only a few dollars away. IN theory people were also required to honestly believe in becoming a better person too, but enough money helped.

    I drank the last of my liquor and the world spun briefly. My cheeks flapped, and I shook myself to get ready. Everything else could wait until next week.

    ¡°Forward!¡± I shouted, charging at the manor.

    My wild dash toward the building lasted about twenty yards before I realized running sucked. Even in virtual reality. I got tired and winded and felt dizzier than before.

    Messages popped up telling me of all the ways my body had been debilitated. I missed old games where there were no such things as downsides or being drunk only messaged with a screen interface. Continue Online cared not for such a broken world and hammered me with the bad news.

    My foot had twisted due to hitting a pot hole at high speeds. I¡¯d limp for a day. The amount of alcohol I¡¯d consumed was far too much and I might throw up at any second. Those message boxes and a few others went off to the side.

    ¡°You okay?¡± Rose asked.

    She leaned over me. Brown hair spilled down. Her sideways expression stared at me without sympathy.

    Shoe got a thumbs up for her concern. ¡°Drunker than I thought.¡±

    Rose frowned briefly. ¡°Heal yourself then. It¡¯s a basic healing spell.¡±

    Right. I traced out [Branch of Healing] on my foot then watched happily as the message about my foot went away. The ground around me shifted from the decaying black to a brighter green.

    ¡°That seems to be doing a lot more than last time.¡± She nodded happily.

    ¡°Goes out at least ten feet,¡± Johnny added.

    I beamed proudly, and drunkenly. These healing spells were more useful due to a higher path.

    ¡°Not sure we can take on any larger packs with StoneMason or some other tank.¡± Her comment dampened m mood.

    ¡°Right. I need to figure out how to get the dogs here.¡±

    I guess it was time to put off naming them. Then I should get some sort of message telling me that all my summon skills and classes could be used with the druid and dog thing. Hopefully. If I had to search for my druid mentor in random dive bars across Arcadia, I might lose my mind.

    ¡°Need help? I know a lot about spells,¡± Rose offered.

    My head shook. ¡°No. I¡¯ve had a few crash courses. I used to be a mage you know.¡±

    ¡°He was. He crammed a months¡¯ worth of any sane game play into two weekends just to pass courses. Then he used all that to cast a summon spell that somehow ended with the mage¡¯s college in NorthShire absolutely drenched in shit.¡±

    ¡°I was on a mission.¡± Like I was on a mission now. To figure out what my dogs should be called. Scout was a dumb dog name. Snowball and Shadow were also dumb.

    ¡°That was you?¡± Rose asked.

    I shrugged and went back to names. Fetch might be a good name but none of them were chasers. We had one sort of leader dog. A slug. Two that were almost identical and might need matching names. Then there was the fifth dog, who I couldn¡¯t even remember the details of. It would have been easier if it hadn¡¯t been a few hours, a drunken bender, and a week of being out of game.

    ¡°Can¡¯t believe you filled that tower with crap. I¡¯d puled a few pranks in my first two months there, but nothing on that level.¡±

    ¡°You went to a mage college?¡± Johnny asked.

    Rose shrugged but didn¡¯t answer.

    ¡°Oh. You¡¯re like Friday. Living in denial.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a river,¡± I added happily.

    The fifth dog finally registered. He¡¯d been the one to shove his nose into every nook and cranny we went by during our first few hours together. Three boys. Two girls. The girls were practically glued at the hips so there might be something clever there naming wise.

    ¡°Come on. I thought we were going to fix this place! That should be easy enough for a rank whatever you¡¯re at now.¡±

    ¡°Thing One and Thing Two,¡± I declared happily. Those were good names for the two sneaky puppies. Though they¡¯d grown a lot in the week I¡¯d been away. The game took them from puppies to a young pack of pestering pooches.

    The system rejected my naming attempt. No reason beyond them being simply unacceptable.

    I frowned. The dogs had personalities of their own, apparently. I¡¯d never had an actual pet before, only companions which came with their names pre-generated.

    They were set aside for later.

    Rose put her hands on her hip. I looked up briefly from my screens of information.

    ¡°Well if you¡¯re not going to get up and start killing stuff. I will. Come on DapperSeed. You can show me around and maybe we can rob this place blind before Friday gets his act together.¡±

    Johnny chuckled then snapped his fingers in the air. ¡°Honey, we could rob this game blind before well before Friday ever gets his shit in one sock.¡±

    They were jerks. I was only stuck trying to figure out names. They wandered while I sat in the field a few dozen yards into the dungeon area. There were no monsters nearby, thankfully. Continue was kind like that. One of the studies I¡¯d seen over the years cited that these Trillium games were more about what caused the player to respond rather than throwing endless hordes at people.

    That meant if I wanted to craft, the game would give me chances at crafting. If I cared enough to make a city or defend towns, then I¡¯d find myself in an area where that was needed. If I needed space to figure out dog names, the game would give me that.

    I stood up and dusted myself off. The small icon meaning my foot gave me a limp had gone but I shook it anyway. Real life cures were so much easier than in reality. They¡¯d been gone a few minutes and I¡¯d grown no closer to figuring out names for my five animals.

    I had managed to make my interface a bit friendlier. There were now five floating pictures of the dogs in front of me with blank name spaces. They spun a slow circle giving me a clear picture of their stance, color markers, and a sort of hierarchy. There was certainly a leader, and a sloth in the back.

    ¡°Dopey,¡± I said while pointing at the floating picture of the sleepy one. ¡°Sloth.¡± The system bounced back both name selections. Apparently, I could reject names, but so could they. ¡°Fuzzy butt. Hamster face. Brown. Spots.¡±

    All rejected. Something nearby screamed in a high shrill voice. My back crawled and the urge to piss reached my bladder.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t bothering you!¡± I yelled at nothing while throwing both fists up.

    Johnny might have been right when he implied, I¡¯d never get my stuff together. He might have been right when he said I tended to develop crusades. A single cause to keep myself going. Real life gave me no chance to mean anything. A monkey could do my job, but in here I could make a difference. If only for a moment.

    I lived for those chances.

    The voice shrieked again, making my brain reset. It came from closer. Being the veteran of a dozen characters, I turned around slowly and focused on not panicking.

    Sure enough, a ghostly girl floated in the air. Black thick hair. Fingernails that drug to the ground. As my brain took in those sights, the girl screamed a third time then vanished.

    I wasn¡¯t ready to die yet. My eyes drifted to the screen of five floating puppies waiting to be named. They were so annoyingly cute. Soft fur. Dopey grins. Tongues hanging out.

    The brief pause made me lose track of what was happening. Ghost girl flickered near my face. My heart stuttered. Down I went, swallowing a sudden surge of saliva.

    ¡°Do not want!¡±

    My hand waved through the air trying to trace out a healing spell. Green energy floated about catching nothing.

    Sharp nails appeared, lodged into my calf. I stared at it a moment before pain wove through drunken fog. I screamed.

    The girl¡¯s face appeared again. Her hands were latched onto my leg. She jerked and I twisted to one side.

    ¡°No. No.¡± I couldn¡¯t think straight. Each yank of her arms made my brain black out. Drunk instancing in full immersion had been a mistake. One hand pulled on the filthy ground. Groves appeared as I tried to pull away.

    Despite out tug of war, the five pictures of dogs hung in front of me.

    ¡°Tug!¡±

    Rejected.

    ¡°Help!¡±

    Also rejected. I scrambled to cast a healing spell on my leg. Green flared and the fingernails stuck deep into my flesh pulled out. Pain vanished as the curative took effect.

    The ghostly girl that moved too fast screamed again. Not as close. My head whipped around searching for her. It¡¯d do no good to be caught like that again. I couldn¡¯t think clearly when she was trying to remove entire chunks of my flesh or drag me to whatever hellish lair might await.

    That shrike came again. I tracked out the healing spell on the ground. Blackened dirt flashed, and fresh grass spouted quickly. The ghostly woman appeared at the edge of my cured crown, distorted limbs in front of her face as a shield.

    She didn¡¯t like healing spells. That was a good sign, because it meant as long as my mana stayed, I had a way to survive. Dying wouldn¡¯t help me. I needed to stay alive to solve this place and complete my crusade.

    ¡°Darn it Johnny,¡± I muttered. Having those two nearby would have helped.

    Ghost woman screamed yet again. The air rippled with energy. I felt something push me backward until I rolled along the ground to an unclean area. The area I¡¯d just left started to blacken again. I wove the spell on the ground then brought my second hand down to try and trace the spell twice.

    Whatever it was, moved too fast for me to lay a spell on. My trick with the butler wouldn¡¯t work this go around. I¡¯d have to keep curing the dirt each time it made me tumble, and if I could figure out dog names during this, then I¡¯d have a chance at fighting back.

    One dog at a time. I focused on the last one.

    ¡°Sluggo.¡±

    A red box got in the way. It vibrated as the banshee girl monster whatever yelled again. I managed to hold my current position in a dirty but living patch of ground.

    ¡°Theodore!¡±

    That name sucked. The system agreed then denied me.

    ¡°Pizza!¡±

    Rejection. On I went through anything that came to mind. Finally, I gave up and cursed, ¡°Fucking I don¡¯t care!¡±

    The system rejected that too. Fading images from a dozen terrible names were hanging in the air obscuring my vision. My ears hurt from the endless yelling. A deep ringing drowned out everything else. I felt myself tipping to one side but couldn¡¯t tell if I was moving. I¡¯d had less problems in a war zone.

    ¡°Sleepy.¡±

    A loud ding drowned out the next scream.

    ¡°What?¡±

    Cold nails grabbed my face. I jerked to the side and fumbled to pull my staff out of inventory. Dog food fumbled out all over the ground. The monster paused in confusion. I traced out a fresh [Branch of Healing] then worked my other hand to form a lightning bolt.

    ¡°Bigger heals. I need bigger heals.¡±

    Away she went, buying me a few more seconds of peace.

    Learning new spells and using them out of reflex in the middle of combat wasn¡¯t easy. Other people who were some sort of game ninjas might be able to but it took me hours to adapt to anything new. Being drunk didn¡¯t help.

    One dog accepting Sleepy as a name gave me a clue. The dogs might be like me, preferring names that were things rather than actually real. I went with my gut on what to call the twins.

    ¡°Ball and Chain!¡±

    That worked. The girl dogs became a bit more solid on my floating screen and a second chime filled the air. That left me with two. The system was even kind enough to take my desperation as consent.

    A small icon on my screen flashed. That should be a message. I didn¡¯t have time to check it, choosing to cast yet another healing spell. My mana bar dipped further down. I had a real finite time limit despite all the recent Ranks in [Druid]. I¡¯d have to give my character sheet an actual once over.

    The monster yelled for the umpteenth time.

    ¡°Can you stop?¡± My eyes blinked tightly to try and remove the blurriness.

    Two yells came back in response. One sharp and the other long and low. My ears popped and the world spun until my face slammed onto the ground.

    I didn¡¯t need to put up with this. One hand fumbled for the damn log out button. I could figure out dog names over a shower and some hot coffee instead of being harassed by some angry monster.

    System Notice

    Unable to log out during combat! Logging out while in a fight can only be completed in cases of physical stress. This is to preserve continuity of the virtual world. Imagine if everyone just walked away when things got a little bit tough. What kind of world would that be?

    Now the machine was just being an asshole.

    The ghost screamed at me.

    ¡°I have to pee,¡± I said. ¡°And if you don¡¯t let me out, I¡¯ll just uninstall you.¡±

    My interface frizzed for a moment. I swear the machine was considering its drive to keep me playing versus keeping me in. I should have been freaked out that the computer could do that, but let it slide due to excessive liquor.

    The machine popped me out.

    The joy of a real ten beer piss would have been even better, but I¡¯d been in the game for a few hours before getting into fight with a single stupid ghost girl. I hadn¡¯t been lying about needing to go to the bathroom badly. So what if it took me a few minutes to get myself sorted out.

    At least real life didn¡¯t have ghosts screaming at me. I had enough of those when sleeping, I didn¡¯t need to be haunted in the game too.

    ¡°Getting old,¡± I muttered to a cramped basement apartment.

    Before reality could drain me any further, I popped outside and walked around. I¡¯d managed to figure out one name but didn¡¯t like anything for the lead dog. He was the one to always get the others in order. He reminded me of my captain in a lot of ways. Perky, all teeth. He¡¯d died when people burst through the door and fired on our squad.

    I didn¡¯t want to give a dog that name. Not to avoid honoring a man who¡¯d probably saved us. But because it felt like an ill omen.

    My brain rattled through a long list before I realized too much time had passed. If I wanted to get any more drinking done and make progress in this journey to cure the [Widow¡¯s Children] setting, I¡¯d need to face the music.

    Back into the immersion device I went.

    When I finished loading, Rose was in my face. She had new red earrings that glinted from a lantern held by Johnny.

    ¡°Hey.¡±

    ¡°Friday?¡± She tilted her head at me. ¡°Your autopilot¡¯s been fighting for like twenty minutes.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± I¡¯d left the damn autopilot on again. There were all sorts of signs where my character had been healing the ground and getting knocked around endlessly.

    ¡°We ran as soon as we noticed your health dropping. Found you fighting a boss. She¡¯s away for a minute. Or maybe more. She might be a monster that only attacks solo players.¡±

    ¡°That sounds about right.¡± There were all sorts of creatures in this game. A boss that attacked solo players and tried to frighten them to death would be about par. ¡°She got in my face while I was trying to figure out the dog names, so I logged out and took a walk. Was easier to sort myself out.¡±

    Johnny dug through his bag. He counted to himself and lifted fingers to help carry the one, or ten, or whatever number Johnny needed help adding up.

    Rose seemed at a loss. Her mouth hung open slightly and the daggers in her hands were held loosely. Fighter trainers would have a fit seeing how slack she was treating them.

    Finally, she got to the question. ¡°You seriously logged out during combat?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I don¡¯t play this game to feel the rush of battle and thrill of the hunt.¡±

    ¡°Friday plays to get drunk and pretend real life doesn¡¯t exist.¡± Johnny kept his eyes in his bag and stuck an arm inside. It disappeared into the depths without so much as a ripple. Two candlesticks overflowed and fell onto the ground.

    Rose shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re not going to be able to solve this place without a fight.¡±

    ¡°Sure I can, but at my speed. Not being pushed by some computer program on steroids.¡±

    ¡°Still can¡¯t believe you logged out. That¡¯s got to be a mistake. It¡¯s in the guide. You shouldn¡¯t be able to log out during key events, or combat, until it¡¯s resolved somehow. Otherwise everyone would log out the moment they were about to die and never suffer a forced lockout.¡±

    We were in a glorified calculator. If I wanted to log out, the machine wouldn¡¯t stop me. It rarely ever put a halt to anything I wanted to do. It simply provided hefty deterrents.

    ¡°It¡¯s a game, and I had to pee.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s way more than a game.¡±

    She may have a point. It was a way of life that let me drink without running a car into street lights. ¡°Well it made my autopilot do stuff. Which I didn¡¯t want either.¡±

    Her face paled abruptly. Fingers flew across an invisible board as she typed at her interface. She slid around windows, likely searching for something or talking to someone.

    This had happened before. People didn¡¯t like how I played, which really was at my own speed. When the game got to be too much, I simply walked off. After twelve other Fridays I¡¯d pretty much gotten it down to a science. I played mostly solo because I wanted to be able to walk away when I needed.

    Guilds would mean obligations. Parties were much the same, but Johnny understood.

    ¡°You can¡¯t just walk away,¡± Rose muttered.

    I rolled my eyes and pulled back up the screen with my five dogs. The three from earlier were still waiting, while the last two were unnamed.

    ¡°Trap.¡±

    The system accepted that too. I pondered my five choices. They were fitting for the animals, sure. What would happen if I warned others of a trap and Trap got confused? I remembered a bit about the military canines. Most of their commands were either in different languages, or more about tone and sharpness of orders versus word choice.

    Dogs responded more to tone and body language than actual words.

    ¡°What names do you have so far?¡± Rose peered over my shoulder as if she might see my screens. Maybe she could.

    ¡°Ball and Chain for the girls. Trap for the one that sticks his nose into everything. Sleepy for the other one.¡±

    ¡°Those are terrible names,¡± Rose said.

    Johnny nodded but kept digging in his bag.

    I shrugged. ¡°I drew a blank on the last dog. You got anything good?¡±

    ¡°Snowball.¡± She beamed.

    ¡°No.¡±

    Rose paused and bit her bottom lip tight enough to make the skin go white. ¡°Which one is he?¡±

    ¡°That one that puts all the others in line. I¡¯d call him a alpha dog but that¡¯s not really a thing.¡±

    Her eyebrow went up. Johnny cheered briefly and pulled out a hat from his bag.

    ¡°Look! Loot. You still wear hats, right? Priests have them.¡±

    The equipment looked ugly. Somewhere between half a burlap sack and a knitted cap. The colors were even worse.

    ¡°Also no,¡± I said.

    Johnny sighed dramatically then the hat back and continued digging.

    Rose shook her head and fingered the earrings again. ¡°How about Sarge.¡±

    The fifth dog lit up.

    I nodded. ¡°Alright. Now we¡¯re getting somewhere.¡±

    The dogs finally had real names. Not just ¡°Guys stop biting my leg.¡± Sarge. Ball and Chain, though I wasn¡¯t sure which one was which. Trap and Sleepy. They¡¯d do as well as any other names.

    Sure enough, once I pressed a final agreement button, options came up. Hunger levels, boredom, suggestions for activities, and even more options. I put those all to the side and searched through the spell book and found a summon spell.

 Session 12 - Dogs Versus Zombies

    We went in through the servants wing, which turned out to be another entrance separate from the dog kennels or the main doorway. There were too many rooms to keep track of and this [Widow¡¯s Children] instance probably boasted more square footage than a royal castle.

    Rose followed Johnny around trying to figure out how he got around without being murdered by every monster on the map. The dogs followed me around hoping for snacks. I, for my part, followed a string of dead monsters left behind an angry young woman while mourning my dwindling supply of liquor. Occasionally we fought monsters, which I sucked at.

    All these hallways looked the same. It¡¯d been the same during the war. Every house had the same air about it. Tired. Run down. Empty with a lingering echo of muted terror. There were signs that these belongings had been cared for once, a long time ago. Dust piled high on unpolished wood. Frames hung askew on the wall. The paintings they may have housed were either torn or stolen, probably by Johnny.

    Sarge barked quietly then licked my hand. He seemed to be asking how I was doing.

    ¡°I¡¯m tired. Everything here is dull and lifeless.¡± I tipped over my cup. ¡°And the drink¡¯s run dry. I don¡¯t know why I do these things. It¡¯d be easier to stay in town and take up a trade like, healing sick villagers.¡±

    There was a thought. Rather than delve into the combat oriented dungeon with a misfit band of dogs, I could lay back and offer healing services on the roadside. Of course, doing so would probably come with taxes. I¡¯d bet a paycheck that these players had figured out how to charge business owners for breathing their town¡¯s rarefied air.

    Sarge barked. Ball and Chain lifted their heads and turned to stare back down an endless hallway at us. They¡¯d been scouting ahead. Trap always seemed lost in one of the side rooms. Sleepy stumbled next to me, using my legs as a prop. Their leader, Sarge, barked again and Trap poked his head out of a doorway. He growled softly.

    [Animal Understanding] meant I generally understood what was happening. Sarge¡¯s single barks reminded me of a status report demand back in the service. Trap was like a grumpy scout who wanted to be blowing stuff up instead of talking. That growl probably meant we were about to be attacked.

    ¡°Filthy!¡± a distorted female voice shouted. It grew closer and twitched violently. ¡°Paw prints everywhere. Dirty. So much scrubbing.¡±

    I sighed. That bark had been right. Rose had missed another monster.

    ¡°It¡¯ll never be clean as long as these mutts roam the halls.¡±

    ¡°Cleaning never ends,¡± I agreed.

    The maid ignored me.

    ¡°Look. Look.¡± She stumbled over nothing and slammed into the corner of a table. I was pretty sure I¡¯d banged into that same tiny table last time we¡¯d visited here.

    A limp wrist and barely functional arm lifted in my direction. ¡°This is your fault.¡±

    That was monster speak for ¡°I will kill you¡±.

    ¡°Probably.¡± The cup hadn¡¯t refilled itself.

    I pondered striking first but I had the battle instincts of a lump. A decade out of the service had dulled me. Machines did all the work now anyway. They¡¯d taken my dream job as a doctor and left me as the equivalent of a sandwich artisan.

    ¡°Unwanted guests must be removed.¡± She shambled forward.

    I stared blankly. So far I hadn¡¯t done much personal fighting. My spells were a mess. [Branch of Healing] was my cheapest recovery spell. There were still [Tiny Lightning Bolt]s and a [Negatively Charged Bolt] which I didn¡¯t understand. Knowing my luck I¡¯d use it and zap myself.

    Sarge barked. The maid changed targets and increased speed toward him. He lowered his head with a snarl. As he neared, Ball and Chain step behind the maid and grabbed her legs. She went face first into the ground. For the final insult, Sleepy went over and sat on the flailing maid¡¯s back. Her pale broken face somehow went whiter. The wildly moving arms went limp.

    ¡°Nice.¡± I clapped.

    Sarge barked in what felt like pride. Ball and Chain growled but kept their teeth locked around her calves. Sleepy curled up and settled in for a nap.

    I wandered over calmly and used [Branch of Healing] followed by two more healing spells. Like a few strays I¡¯d already run into, this maid showed no signs of recovering. Those dogs had healed. That butler had healed, but these maids didn¡¯t change at all. I couldn¡¯t tell if my rank was too high now, which would go against logic but drunk me thought it made sense.

    The creature¡¯s body flaked at the edge. ¡°This one too huh?¡±

    Sarge grumbled then pawed at her decaying head.

    Killing the last one had left a corpse of a corpse. The one I¡¯d healed before that turned to dust just like this one. I hadn¡¯t figured out why [Branch of Healing] or any other spell turned them into flakes, but whatever. The game did it¡¯s thing and I could only start over as a new Friday or go along with the weirdness.

    Trap growled in warning. We had company. Sarge commanded everyone into positions.

    Ball and Chain let go of the decaying maid and ran to corners near furniture. Their black fur seemed to merge with the small shadows. Sleepy stood up and shook wildly. Ash from the fading maid fluttered everywhere creating a cloud.

    I clapped then throw a [Tiny Lightning Bolt] through the cloud.

    It hit nothing. My eyes rolled. It was easier to simply focus on healing my little yapping party of puppies.

    Ball and Chain hit the first maid to come out. She twisted flipping the dogs into each other. The girls became a tangled mess. I traced out every healing spell I had gained. [Lesser Light] from being a [Priest]. [Branch of Healing] and [Bough of Regeneration]. The system even flashed me another message telling me I¡¯d cast enough healing spells in a row to do something.

    I didn¡¯t have time to stare at it as the animals continued to fight maids.

    The lot of them kept my dogs healthy and so filled with regeneration spells their skin glowed. Sleepy sat in the middle of his dust cloud with utter chaos him. He stopped to scratch his ear while Ball and Chain spun across the floor rending a maid limb from limb. They reminded me of alligators doing a death spin, but with canines.

    ¡°That¡¯s new.¡±

    Sleepy yawned.

    Sarge barked sharply a few times.

    Trap, resident growler, dove into the side of another maid.

    I threw more healing spells, sure they¡¯d either turn the undead into ash or make the dogs glow. One maid clawed at my legs and I bonked her in the head with my staff.

    Rose screamed. My head pulled back as the sheer sharpness of her unhappy yell made my mind go blank. The dogs whimpered, so did one of the maids as she turned to ash.

    My eyes were blinking unevenly. The walls spun. Ash, or dust, or whatever the hell had been in Sleepy¡¯s fur settled slowly.

    There stood Rose, in the middle of a mess of decaying undead and confused dogs.

    I rocked slowly then waved with the free hand. My other pushed the staff against the ground to keep me propped up and vaguely steady.

    ¡°What happened here?¡± JOhnny asked.

    He was inspecting one of the short hallway cabinates for whatever. Trap nosed over next to him, driving them small man¡¯s hands out of the way. Both struggled to peer behind the small door.

    ¡°I made friends.¡±

    Johnny whistled into the desk. The sound echoed inside.

    ¡°Would you believe this is a secret tunnel?¡±

    Trap growled.

    ¡°Yeah we shouldn¡¯t go down there. I¡¯m claustrophobic. Ever since that thing with the sand worms.¡± Johnny shuddered.

    Sarge licked a paw. Ball and Chain were circling around the lot of us searching for whatever they expected to find. Johnny threw something into the piece of hall furniture he¡¯d been inspecting hastily closed the door. Trap growled for a second then something went boom and the wall shook.

    I stared at the lot of them and tried to figure out what the hell just happened. Rose and Johnny had shown up from nowhere, found a secret tunnel, thrown an explosive in it, and my dogs were all okay.

    That sounded like a win but it would have been easier if I understood what happened.

    Event!

    Fridays Freaky Healing

    You¡¯ve shown yourself to be a journeyman of at least three types of healing.

    That¡¯s great for you, better for everyone else.

    Keep it up.

    The message went on to tell me some more useless knowledge about how my healing spells would get a bonus and people might actually seek me out to help cure complicated problems. I took that as game code for ¡°Now we have a reason to give you weird quests, and it¡¯s because you flailed wildly in a dungeon using too many spells¡±.

    My mana was a mess.

    Rose shook her head. ¡°Dogs dog-piling zombie maids is fucked up.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hilarious.¡± Johnny pulled out treats and threw them to the circling dogs. Sarge refused to eat enough enough supplies had been prepared for the other four. Ball and Chain ate theirs side by side.

    ¡°I like it.¡± My shoulders lifted in a shrug. I eyed the decaying corpses and whistled.

    Sarge barked and ignored an outstretched finger pointing at the monsters. Trap dove for the body and dug through for functional loot. He tore off some pants and brought them back with the rest of the corpse still inside. I shook the clothes at arms length and let the leg fall out. A leg fell out which Ball and Chain fought over. Sleepy stayed on the ground staring at a foot like it should be jumping in his mouth.

    It¡¯d be gone soon. I¡¯d cast enough healing magic to hit every single maid, and apparently there¡¯d been a lot more than the three I¡¯d noticed. I pointed at the next corpse. Sarge barked again and cocked his head. Trap went to work and found me one shoe.

    Rose shook her head. ¡°Seriously. You¡¯re not even playing the game yourself. Makes this whole thing kind of boring.¡±

    ¡°Lots of loot though!¡± Johnny fed the dogs and eyed every item up and down the hall. His fingers waved in the air making notes appear on our shared map. He snagged items well before the dogs even noticed and put them into his bottomless bag. We all had a player inventory, but those only held so much. Johnny¡¯s run down sack seemed to hold way more than it should have.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    My hands balled into fists which I held up slowly. ¡°I¡¯m so overpowered.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t really that strong. I just had a lot of little ranks and a few really high ones. I got lucky that they went together well. All my skills had apparently secretly been kind of the same. Summoning, or portals, and medical skills. Basically I got around and could fix people. I didn¡¯t have any real skill with weapons or rogue skills beyond being a bit sneaky.

    ¡°That¡¯s only three groups. We should have found a lot more.¡±

    Johnny cupped his hands and shouted into a nearby room. ¡°We¡¯re sneaky!¡±\

    ¡°Jesus. Really? Friday can¡¯t you control your friend?¡±

    I chuckled.

    ¡°For thirty gold I¡¯ll do whatever you want.¡±

    ¡°He would do anything for gold.¡±

    Rose pointed down the hallway. Another shambling maid walked by. Her clothes were a wreck along with the rest of her body.

    Johnny¡¯s face puckered. ¡°But I won¡¯t do that.¡± He waved short arms at the undead.

    I chuckled dryly. The liquor had worn off but everything still amused me. ¡°Sure you would. For enough gold.¡±

    He licked his lips then started counting on fingers. Finally he said, ¡°Nope. That¡¯s a trap.¡±

    One of the dogs perked up. They were already clear on their names. I hadn¡¯t even tried to train them. [Druid]s apparently could cheat when it came to training dogs they¡¯d rescued from the evil countess whatever¡¯s home.

    ¡°We looking for anything specific?¡± Rose asked. She¡¯d been content enough to stab monsters for the first hour or so but that was starting to get old.

    ¡°I ran into a butler here last time. Said I wasn¡¯t strong enough to cure this place. I figure now with eight more ranks in my main path and all these little side paths, maybe I can do something.¡±

    ¡°Any ideas on how to find your quest giver?¡±

    ¡°Drag the dogs around making a mess.¡±

    Rose chewed her bottom lip in thought then nodded. ¡°That must be why the maids are attacking us.¡±

    Rose and Johnny were far sneakier than me and the pack of dogs. They continued to range ahead while the rest of us made a mess. We exploded nearly every room, went upstairs and downstairs, found more monsters than a mansion this size should house, but no sign of the butler or any other boss. Our journey had sent us in circles that were utterly useless.

    Finally we gathered in a cleared room and took a real break. Virtual reality didn¡¯t excuse the need to use the bathroom or stand up and stretch. There were creames that could remove a lot of the soreness from extended play, and I remember hearing that some of the richer people could afford what were essentially suits that kept up muscle tone and health. Somehow they¡¯d make the person move around while their mind got feedback from virtual reality. It gave them safe exercise in the real world and adventure in the fake one.

    I couldn¡¯t afford that kind of stuff. Maybe if I¡¯d been a real doctor much sooner.

    Real life needs taken care of, I logged back into Continue Online and found the others babysitting my dogs.

    Rose scratched Sleepy¡¯s ears. His leg thumped. ¡°Wait until they get bigger.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll get bigger?¡± Johnny had an endless supply of treats. Ball and Chain sat in front of him, tails wagging in unison.

    ¡°Probably. Companion pets can be huge.¡±

    ¡°Friend of mine had a T-Rex. The thing ate sheep for meals. He¡¯d learned this conjuring spell that let him summon a sheep for gold from a farmer out in West Vale. Was  Anyway, during lunch time he¡¯d summon a sheep, give it a ten second head start, then take bets on how long it¡¯d survive.¡±

    Johnny rubbed his hands together. ¡°That¡¯s a real money making idea.¡± He turned and noticed I¡¯d logged back in. ¡°Say Friday, can you do that?¡±

    I slowly parsed what they¡¯d been saying. Going from my real world bathroom back to whatever virtual place I¡¯d parked in always threw me off for a minute.

    ¡°Maybe. Though I don¡¯t think I can summon sheep,¡± I said. ¡°I only learned summoning magic to do one thing.¡±

    Rose smiled then grimaced as Sleepy collapsed on her legs. His half sized paws were clearly sharp enough to dig through clothes. She said, ¡°You¡¯ve got to be careful with any extra planer summons. Sometimes you¡¯ll get epic versions and they¡¯ll kill your pet.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Johnny said. His eyes went wide. ¡°Your friend with the sheep?¡±

    Rose laughed. ¡°Oh it¡¯s exactly what you¡¯re thinking. Sheep versus T-Rex, and the sheep won! We actually saw the damn thing level up, or whatever animals do. Rank up. Went from a monster called Baa Baa the Bad to Baa Baa the Everliving. It¡¯s fleece turned gold and those horns were practically platinum. Took a quick ten man raid to bring it down after the sheep went mad with power.¡±

    We ate a meal in game. The dogs were still half grown and apparently knew how to beg, which made Rose laugh herself. I got the impression that she¡¯d been looking for an excuse to relax and have fun. Murdering monsters had a certain amount of catharsis but laughter won.

    ¡°So Dapper. You¡¯ve told me all about Friday, but nothing about yourself. What¡¯s up with that?¡±

    Johnny froze. Eventually he gave a rueful grin and glanced away from us.

    He didn¡¯t like sharing about his life. I¡¯d never asked Johnny. I¡¯d never wanted to know what his story before we met had been. The only reason we knew each other in real life was a few visits to a veterans clinic, where we both went for checkups now and then. It was kind of messed up to think that someone I saw in passing was the closest friend I had.

    He also still hadn¡¯t answered.

    I sighed and rescued him. ¡°Johnny¡¯s not a fan of talking about himself, but he¡¯s a good guy. He got me started on Continue and the wonders of digital drinking. All the affect, none of the hangover.¡±

    He snorted then shook his head. Sarge barked and the dogs all stood up and circled around him. They barreled the short man over and attacked with wet tongues.

    Rose chuckled. As to the topic of Johnny¡¯s past, she seemed wise enough to let it drop.

    We needed to get back on track. I¡¯d had a few thoughts while in the bathroom, aside from wondering if green skin felt like regular skin in a virtual world, but one of them had been how to find the snobby butler.

    I started us off. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ve got a plan.¡±

    Johnny¡¯s hands both went up in a full stop motion. ¡°Whoa. Is it better then trying to ride a kite off the castle walls right?¡±

    That had gone better than I¡¯d expected. One of my Fridays, the madly running field medic, had been all about finding bodies and dragging them back to safety. At some point I¡¯d run out ropes to people then attached them onto our soldiers so they could be pulled to safety. I¡¯d also tried to get a kite and ride it down to the battle field. The whole mess had been inspired after my [Tinkerer] character.

    ¡°That was a great plan. It got me out in the field almost three times faster.¡±

    ¡°You mean you crashed in the field three times faster.¡±

    Rose smiled softly. She seemed a bit subdued after stepping on Johnny¡¯s virtual toes. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan?¡±

    ¡°Dog tracking!¡± My shoulders lifted in a long shrug.

    They both stopped to think about my brilliant idea of using the five dogs to hunt down the butler.

    She nodded. ¡°That might work.¡±

    ¡°Are any of them trackers?¡± Johnny asked.

    I pointed at him accusingly. ¡°You¡¯re a tracker and it¡¯s done you no good.¡±

    Johnny laughed. ¡°You didn¡¯t pay me enough.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any gold!¡± He¡¯d taken all of it. I¡¯m fairly sure the only reason he¡¯d led PileDriver to my stuff was so he could follow PileDriver around long to steal all his gold too. And his friends. And their bases. I still didn¡¯t know what Johnny did with it all.

    ¡°So, the dogs.¡± Rose said.

    I nodded then whistled. Sarge barked and the five dogs meandered over to me. I scratched Sarge on the head, then went for Ball, or Chain, but her sister butted in demanded to be pet at the same time.

    ¡°Remember the bad man last time? The one who didn¡¯t like you guys tracking mud on the floor?¡±

    Sarge barked happily then chased his tail for a second. Ball and Chain ran off to fight over a bone that had survived my healing apocalypse. I worried about their diet but filed it away for later. Digital dog pets could probably eat anything. Real dogs certainly did.

    ¡°Well go get him! But no biting. We need him unbittened.¡± My eyebrows wrinkled. I¡¯d said a word that didn¡¯t exist and it hung in my mind as a distorted echo. ¡°Go!¡±

    Sarge barked repeatedly then dashed off. Ball and Chain followed shortly after. Trap went slower, sniffing at every doorway.

    I glanced down at Sleepy. ¡°Well?¡±

    He yawned at me.

    ¡°Okay then.¡±

    ¡°Okay?¡± Rose echoed.

    ¡°He¡¯s got a lot on his plate. Being a dog is hard work.¡±

    Johnny laughed then hefted his backpack over a shoulder and took off after the dogs. They rounded a corner that I felt fairly sure I¡¯d been around a million times already. This bonkers maze of a dungeon made zero sense to me. Of course, being drunk enough, I might have done loops through the same three floors.

    Johnny stood in a doorway. The Trap growled on the otherside. Johnny turned to me and pointed through the doorway. ¡°That¡¯s not a butler.¡±

    I walked to the door and leaned over Johnny¡¯s shorter frame. The dogs had found cat sized termites instead. Dozens of bugs crawled upon walls. Johnny held a lamp up and the bugs skittered around.

    Sarge barked happily at me and wagged his daily.

    ¡°Wrong,¡± I said.

    Sarge barked again with a slightly sour note.

    ¡°The butler. Not the bugs.¡±

    They both started with the same sound. Maybe his puppy memory couldn¡¯t figure it out. I didn¡¯t have a solid grasp on how long they¡¯d been in that room bumbling around compared to running around the forest with Rose¡¯s mom.

    ¡°I hate bugs,¡± our third said. She had her back pressed against the far wall away from the doorway. ¡°They need to all burn.¡±

    The bugs were clearly offended because they waved their antennas back and forth then charged like a tide.

    There were more than a few up on those walls. There were dozens.

    Johnny rummaged in his bag. He¡¯d pulled a bomb out of there last time. What came next might be worse, or better.

    ¡°Out!¡± I shouted at the dogs.

    Sarge ran out. Ball and Chain were already down the hall. Trap was nowhere to be seen and Sleepy dozed against the wall next to Rose.

    Rose shuddered. I¡¯d expected her to be more a of a veteran to ugly encounters.

    ¡°Bugs!¡±

    Sleep ignored my cry and snorted. One leg kicked unsteadily.

    Clicking noises came from my side.

    ¡°Fire!¡± Johnny shouted.

    Heat flared. I fell back. Sleepy leaned over and licked my face. Johnny cackled madly as bugs started to squeal.

    ¡°Burn them all!¡± Rose danced in spot, accidentally stepping on Sleepy¡¯s paw. He yipped and stumbled to the side.

    My eyes were overloaded from the sudden shift in lighting. The bugs squealed like giant pigs. Hisses and pops came out of the room while the dogs barked loudly. Sleepy whimpered. Trap dug at the wall behind us.

    Johnny laughed madly. He spun the fire to the side, burning the door frame and bugs seeking to get out of the aflame room. A small hoard tried to poke out the other side but were burned by Johnny sweeping the flame back and forth.

    Sarge barked for attention. I turned and found him huddled near Rose. He pushed himself back against the wall and kept flicking an ear back. Fur on his neck stood up. Sarge gave off a vibe of annoyance and wariness.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± My fingers stretched over to rub his head. ¡°Johnny won¡¯t burn us all to the ground in madness.¡±

    I forgot at times they they weren¡¯t full grown dogs like the ones I¡¯d worked with in the military. These were still essentially puppies. Just large ones that were in bodies beyond their age, likely because of my sudden jump in [Druid] ranks.

    They shared that trait with the grove. Essentially springing up overnight. I counted myself lucky that Rose¡¯s mom had taken them out hunting so much in the last week. That¡¯d be a few weeks game time, which explained why they worked so well together. They¡¯d probably dealt with traps from players and whatever monsters spawned as a result of the grove growing out of control.

    ¡°That¡¯s all of them.¡± Johnny thumbed his nose. ¡°Knew a rank of exterminator would be useful.¡±

    The fires sputtered. My body flushed. Hair stood on end. I felt annoyingly sober and piled by dug sized puppies.

    I wanted to hate kids but couldn¡¯t help liking the five of them. It might have been an illusion caused by the game feeding information in my mind, or it could have simply been dogs. I¡¯d been thinking about getting an animal for years but found it impossible with my work schedule. Animals needed time and room to run.

    Virtual pets hadn¡¯t seemed like an alternative. I¡¯d assumed they were like Local women in that regard. Only sort of real but mostly impossible to see in both worlds. I wanted a literally real relationship.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay boy. You¡¯re doing great.¡± My fingers were numb from rubbing the two dogs heads.

    The heat died down. Trap stuck his nose into the doorway and sniffed around. He glanced both directions then woofed softly. Sarge yipped happily. I picked up a vague feeling of emptiness and satisfaction, which was warm and cold and weird. It reminded me of lonely nights standing watch. Emptiness has that sort of feeling, and the dogs conveyed it.

    Rose stuck her head in. Johnny put away his items into the bag and went inside as well.

    I eyed the still smoldering remains of dead bugs. They were hot. The air tasted sticky and the walls shone with remains. With this much fire the entire place should have been lit aflame. ¡°Why didn¡¯t it burn down the entire building.¡±

    ¡°Game logic,¡± Rose shrugged. ¡°Place is old. Wood¡¯s wet and rotting. Won¡¯t catch fire that easily. Bug guts are fire retardant. Magic. Take your pick.¡±

    ¡°Bugs guts are?¡± Johnny perked up and eyed the charred remains. ¡°Might be able to use that.¡±

    ¡°Like you used the, what was that, aerosol?¡±

    ¡°Magic aerosol. Magic lighter. Stole them from some Marquis bedroom.¡±

    ¡°Hair sprays been banned longer than you¡¯ve been alive.¡±

    Rose put a hand on her hip. ¡°I do go to college.¡± Her eyes flickered down briefly. ¡°Did. Had to stop recently. Not enough time.¡±

    I stood up slowly. The dogs collapsed. They were getting tired. I could feel it as surely as I felt my own exhaustion. Everything had been going so well as we fought packs of monsters but now I wanted nothing more than a nap. Maybe some ice cream, or a movie, or another drink.

    Trap growled. Sarge barked then scrambled to the forefront of the hallway.

    Roe came back out of the room with a gold candlestick. She stared down the hall with me.

    ¡°More zombie maids.¡± Rose spit on the ground. ¡°This place is so messed up.¡±

    ¡°Nothing wrong with maids,¡± Johnny said from the room.

    ¡°Please. It¡¯s a fetish.¡±

    ¡°Nothing wrong with fetishes.¡±

    ¡°How much for you to tape your mouth shut the rest of the weekend?¡±

    Johnny didn¡¯t miss a beat. ¡°Eighty gold.¡±

    I shook my head and decided to ignore their conversation. Anything else they added would likely be inane at best because Johnny was a master at distracting people.

    ¡°Check your pockets!¡± I pointed at the young woman¡¯s waist. She might not have noticed but I wasn¡¯t checking.

    ¡°What?¡± she asked.

    Johnny distracted everyone by pointing where I¡¯d already been looking. ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Rose asked a second time.

    Poor girl. Poorer, after Johnny got done. I¡¯d have to buy my own drinks for the rest of the weekend. Somehow I doubted that Rose had picked up any of the good loot when completing with the shorter man.

    She¡¯d already forgotten my warning about Johnny stealing her gold.

    There were a lot of the zombie maids coming around the corner. They moved in stiff jerking motions that reminded me of elderly people with legs that didn¡¯t work right. One fell against a wall. Their skin had a strange pinkish hue to it that didn¡¯t fit.

    ¡°Get ready for a fight.¡± She pulled out her weappons.

    Another man came around the corner. His eyes were lined with puckered black skin and clothes were a tattered mess. The frown only made it halfway across his face. I¡¯d seen stroke victims act much the same.

    ¡°What manor of violence are you planning for my staff members?¡±

    ¡°No violence. We¡¯re just polishing sir!¡± Johnny saluted quickly. ¡°For ten gold I¡¯ll even spit.¡±

    Rose¡¯s mouth hung open then clamped shut. She shook her head slowly while sighing. Away went the knives. She waved me forward.

    ¡°How uncouth,¡± his words drug.

    It registered that this was the man we¡¯d been looking for.

    ¡°Hey. Mister Clean! We found you.¡± I put both hands up in a cheer. Some dogs jumped around excitedly while Sleepy dozed off. Ball and Chain had come out of nowhere to join.

    The butler frowned and stared at me.

    ¡°Mister Clean?¡± Rose asked.

    Johnny frowned. ¡°He¡¯s got all his hair though.¡±

    ¡°Hey, we¡¯re not here to quibble about male pattern baldness.¡± I cast my ranged heals. ¡°We¡¯re here to see a man about a quest.¡±

 Session 13 - Walking in Circles

    The butler judged me. Which was stupid because he had a maggot on his sleeve. I pointed at the larva. He kept a straight face and brushed it aside.

    Interestingly, the maids were showing signs of recovering as well. My mug wasn¡¯t. I couldn¡¯t remember when I¡¯d put away the staff and pulled my empty liquor container out but it retained no beer. Maybe I¡¯d never had the darn thing out and been relying on my Rank and Path skills, and the dogs. They were useful in fighting monsters without needing to dirty my hands.

    ¡°If you¡¯d kindly send the dogs outside it will be much easier to talk without distractions.¡±

    That should be possible. I squinted at the empty mug again in case I¡¯d missed something then tossed the container into my inventory. From there I dug through spells and my guidebook.

    ¡°You should have an unsummon. If you summoned them, then there¡¯s normally a reversal. Like the same spell backwards or a release icon if you¡¯re using bars.¡±

    ¡°Who uses bars?¡± Johnny asked.

    ¡°Some people like them.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be so lost if I had to put all my stuff on bars. There¡¯s too many options. Too many icons. Half the time I turn off the interface and do whatever I want to. Except for lock picking. Have you tried manual lock picking?¡±

    Rose tilted her head. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a nightmare.¡±

    ¡°It is,¡± I agreed.

    The butler cleared his throat. We¡¯d been ignoring him this whole time, which was rude considering how much work went into finding him.

    ¡°The mongrels, if you would.¡± He gestured to his half pristine clothes. ¡°Additionally, this state won¡¯t last long.¡±

    I threw a healing spell at them then continued flipping through the digital screens. ¡°I¡¯m working on it.¡±

    There. It was pretty simple. Rather than summon them with names or funny circles, it was possible to open a portal back to the grove. Not a real portal, a spirit one. According to the text, these weren¡¯t even the real dogs. They were projections of some sort. Spirit animals.

    ¡°Yes, well. While your curative techniques have clearly improved, the curse will only grow stronger the more you fight it. Briskness is the key to victory.

    The maids started cleaning up dirty shelves. Their efforts made the dreary house light up for a moment before the rot vibe pushed back. Even without the butler¡¯s warning, I could have figured out that my efforts were a stopgap at best.

    First, I needed to check with the dogs before sending them away.

    I knelt over Sarge and rubbed him on the head. ¡°You¡¯ve got food?¡±

    He barked sharply. It felt like a yes, but it could have been him asking for more to eat instead. I couldn¡¯t tell for sure. He tilted his head and wondered something vague that I couldn¡¯t quiet pick up through [Animal Understanding].

    ¡°I¡¯ll drop by, or Rose will ask her mom. Remember her? The nice green skinned lady that wanted to destroy loggers?¡±

    Sarge tilted his head to the other side, making his ears flop around. Soon the other puppies were tiling as well. Except Sleepy, he stared at a wall.

    ¡°Do you even know her name?¡±

    I shook my head.

    ¡°She likes Nem. Don¡¯t call her Nemesis. She says it¡¯s cheesy.¡±

    It was. Nem was a weird name too. I wound up the spell, a circle inside a circle and let the game¡¯s magic create a doorway. Sarge barked, and three dogs jumped through the small portal. Their bodies turned to starlight, much like the runic spells I cast, then became nothing a second later. Sarge barked again then nipped Sleepy on the heel. He whimperd then trudged toward the portal while yawning. He faded to starlight then nothingness, and Sarge dove through after his family.

    I stared at it for a moment. It¡¯d been awhile since I¡¯d seen anyone function in a tight knit group. Decades, at least. They made it look natural. Maybe it was, but they were digital dogs too so it could be a lie of programming. My eyes drifted downward in thought.

    Eventually I concluded that my mug was still empty.

    ¡°Maybe I should be a summoner,¡± Rose said.

    Johnny shook his head. ¡°Animals hate me.¡±

    They¡¯d liked him a moment ago, but that might be because Sarge was too smart for his own good.

    Rose sat down on a chair and flipped through windows I couldn¡¯t exactly see. Only her finger pointing at thin air and moving around gave me any clue what was going on. Johnny yawned like Sleepy had then rummaged through his bag.

    The butler clasped his hands together. Both maids straightened and stood at attention behind him.

    ¡°Excellent. I can focus now.¡± He stared at me briefly then glanced up and down. ¡°Goodness. You¡¯re certainly trying hard to fit in with our deplorable surroudings. Ragged clothes, an unseemly face. Dirt and bare feet.¡±

    My shoulder shifted slightly so I could get a better look at it. These were poor clothes. Even if we managed to use the loot from the dead monsters, they¡¯d hardly be a step up in appearance or thread count.

    ¡°Especially your features. You look a sight worse than last time. You could almost be one of the missuses cursed offspring with that face.¡±

    I felt pretty sure these undead were uglier than me. My nose only had a few extra bumps on it and the knobby knuckles hadn¡¯t stopped me from casting any spells. They were all cosmetic features.

    ¡°Right. It¡¯s a curse. Not the same one. I made a princess mad.¡±

    ¡°Queen now,¡± Johnny corrected. His hands were both in the depths of the backpack feeling around for who knew what.

    The butler nodded. ¡°Curses happen to the best of us. Those dirty clothes however could be corrected. For you at least. There¡¯s no need to let a weighty burden cause you to dress like a slob.¡±

    My eyes slowly blinked. I couldn¡¯t tell if he was simply stating a fact or being a jerk. It could have been both. After a moment¡¯s thought, it probably was both. So, on I went. ¡°Right. Am I strong enough to stop your curse?¡±

    ¡°You clearly can¡¯t even stop your own,¡± he countered.

    His logic felt on point. I had a curse brought on my low level, rank, path, or whatever, prior self.

    ¡°Mine came from a princess. Or a queen.¡± I glanced around in thought. Wait, I¡¯d already explained part of this to the butler. Maybe I needed more than a bathroom break. A full-on nap and some sunlight in the real world might help. There was a park nearby, but it didn¡¯t help me through this stupid quest starting process. ¡°I can¡¯t remember right now. I¡¯ve got notes somewhere.¡±

    Having a decent [Knowledge] meant all the game lore I¡¯d discovered sat only a thought away. I could have stopped to sort through them, or paid attention to the pop-up reminder one side of my vision. I didn¡¯t.

    ¡°How do you propose to stop this affliction if you haven¡¯t mastered your own?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a man of many talents. I¡¯m something a mage. Priest. Druid. Bunch of stuff in between. I¡¯ve done a lot of stuff over the years. I¡¯ve got a lot more going for me then when this curse first came around. I know stuff.¡± I had approximate knowledge of many things. Especially compared to my first month in the game. Heck, how the world let me sneak around with a princess was beyond me. It shouldn¡¯t have happened.

    ¡°Then, I¡¯m sure you can state which methods there are to break curses.¡± The butler gave me a pop quiz.

    I glanced to the others. Rose and Johnny were content to let me hash it out with the Local on my own. She didn¡¯t seem to care about the quest and Johnny only wanted gold that might result. He probably had a bet with someone on this trip anyway.

    Either way, this time I paid attention to the [Knowledge] prompt. It helped to sound like I knew what I was doing in front of the butler¡¯s testing. ¡°Either overpowering the magic, or fix whatever drove the original formation of the curse.¡± That meant I had to be a number of Ranks above the spell, or have the right traits and skills. Or I had to kill a person, find an object, or set something right.

    In the case of my [Beat with the Ugly Stick] I¡¯d need to get the girl I¡¯d run from as the first Friday to forgive me. That was pretty much impossible so I¡¯d be ¡°Blessed¡± with this face until my next character. Over powering her curse was also unlikely. I¡¯d tried on three characters, even going so far as to run to a forest where no other magic should have worked.

    The butler nodded then smiled sadly. ¡°Or the destruction of the cursed object.¡±

    ¡°Well I can¡¯t do the first one right now.¡± None of my abilities would let me do that. ¡°And it would take me ages to learn enough to overpower it. Destroying this place, since the curse seems to be on the entire building, is out.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. I must digress to my original observation. Your face is, to put it kindly, an epic disaster only eclipsed by the Voice of Plagues.¡±

    Johnny elbowed me and broke their silence. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Even before the curse it wasn¡¯t that pretty.¡±

    Rose snorted.

    I looked down at him. He had his backpack over his shoulders and smiled.

    Defense was required. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know I got second place in a beauty contest.¡±

    ¡°Against a skunk.¡± Johnny doubled over laughing. I resisted bonking him on the head.

    ¡°It was very pretty skunk.¡±

    ¡°What in Arcadia is a skunk?¡± The butler shook his head quickly then brought us back to the main point. ¡°It does not matter. You would need to choose the route of recovering items for the missus. Trinkets tied to her lost loves.¡±

    I squinted.

    ¡°It¡¯s obvious,¡± Rose said. ¡°This place is called Widow¡¯s Children. Her lost love must be her husband, father of the children.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± The butler agreed while picking at forming lint. His clothes were a increasingly ragged and the maids backs started to hunch. My healing spells were losing their effectiveness.

    ¡°Duh.¡± Johnny dug through his bag searching for something.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Rose added. ¡°What he said.¡±

    The butler¡¯s eyebrow lifted. ¡°Unless of course, you¡¯d be willing to get married.¡±

    My stomach clenched and both hands went up in defense. ¡°No. Did that once. Went poorly.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Ah.¡± He pursed his lips for a moment. ¡°Then we shall avoid that solution. It only serves as a temporary solution. There¡¯s been seven other LeCroy¡¯s and all have met terrible ends. Or fled. The missuses is, difficult at times.¡±

    Even a drunk could read between those lines. I filed away worries of the Lady LeCroy being an utter shrew and moved on.

    My head bobbed. ¡°Curses are like that. If marriage was enough to solve a problem, everyone would get hitched.¡±

    ¡°You were married?¡± Rose asked.

    My eyes rolled slowly. ¡°Still am, I think.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Not sure on the legalities of it. It¡¯s in an event notice I got somewhere.¡±

    ¡°Which Friday was this?¡± she said.

    ¡°Oh, an early one.¡± I clasped my hands together in a prayer to the dearly departed Friday the first. ¡°May he, I, rest in peace.¡±

    Johnny pulled out a rubber duck from his backpack and squeaked it. He looked around but the only ones who would have cared, my dog pack, were gone. He shrugged and put it back in the bad. ¡°Were you paying attention? He was cursed by that queen. She owns two countries now. One? It doesn¡¯t matter I guess. She really hates Friday. A lot.¡±

    Johnny had been keeping tabs on the queen¡¯s history. I didn¡¯t keep track of past characters like Princess, no, Queen Luna. Her title might matter in other parts of [Arcadia], but I¡¯d planned out this starting zone in order to be far, far away from her realm of influence.

    ¡°But were they married?¡±

    Johnny shrugged. ¡°Only through an obscure custom to that kingdom.¡±

    Rose squinted. ¡°How do you know?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s paid me to find Friday once or twice.¡±

    His admission broke me away from trying to convince the butler I had a brain. Their banter made it impossible for me to focus anyway. My brain registered exactly what Johnny had said and a groan escaped.

    ¡°Tell me you didn¡¯t,¡± I said.

    ¡°Hey. She paid a lot. I mean a lot, a lot. I¡¯ll do anything for gold.¡±

    ¡°Except a undead maid you little backstabber.¡± My fist shook at him.

    The butler calmly ignored us with the skill and grace of a long time household servant.

    ¡°Please.¡± Johnny waved me off. ¡°It was your sixth Friday, and I only told her where you were after you restarted. She showed up to find nothing.¡± His eyelids narrowed and lips curled in a smile. ¡°For forty gold I¡¯ll never do it again.¡±

    He must have sent them after my [Priest] character. I hoped that the queen¡¯s men hadn¡¯t messed with the clergy too much. They¡¯d been kind people. Probably the best Locals I¡¯d ever met. They truly believed I could be redeemed and act as a force for good.

    I¡¯d also failed their vision quest during a promotion test. I¡¯d failed a lot of stuff but that one bothered me. There was not quiet like believing I could be a better person then failing miserably. Now though, I accepted I had faults and simply did what I could despite them.

    ¡°May I continue?¡± the butler asked.

    Rose snickered.

    I blinked slowly and attempted to gather my thoughts.

    ¡°Right. My ugly mug aside, how can we break the curse?¡± I put up my hands. ¡°Without marriage or overpowering it. Finding objects, right?¡±

    ¡°Overpowering it is pointless anyway. It¡¯s a self inflicted curse that the missus brings upon us shortly after each man she becomes enamored of vanishes.¡± He shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re doomed to repeat the cycle. Typically with some new offspring. Most of these children have different fathers.¡±

    Rose wiggled her nose and looked halfway to throwing up.

    Children bothered me. Everyone had parents, everyone had been young at some point, but my childhood had gone sour and I didn¡¯t want to pass that onto anyone else.

    Even anything close worried me. I rubbed an arm. That didn¡¯t help so I searched through my inventory for a drink. There were none. It didn¡¯t matter how many times I¡¯d checked recently I felt myself going in circles. Maybe it was all the talking. This didn¡¯t suit me. Sitting on a porch watching the sunset would have been nicer but the beach views were too expensive in real life. Plus I still couldn¡¯t legally drink in reality.

    The butler coughed then said, ¡°You¡¯ll need to find the most recent ring.¡±

    ¡°A wedding ring?¡± I asked shakily.

    He shook his head then plucked at a loose thread. ¡°No. A promise ring. Not the only item stolen from our madam, but it would be a start. Enough perhaps to slow the curse.¡±

    Our party exchanged glances. Rose¡¯s face still had a hint of green. I debated a healing spell but my mana reserves were getting low despite the rank increases. I¡¯d been tossing them out left and right with the dogs since we started this adventure. Johnny stared at the ceiling then back at his bag and started counting on fingers. What he counted, I had no idea.

    The butler¡¯s face scrunched. He put a hand to his stomach then let out a quiet burp.

    ¡°What¡¯s it called?¡± Rose asked.

    ¡°A promise ring. I¡¯m not aware of any fancy names.¡±

    Johnny put up a finger. ¡°Think I got parts of the ring somewhere.¡± He started digging. After a second, he paused then winced. ¡°Maybe I sold them.¡±

    Rose crossed her arms. ¡°Of course. Friday is getting an important quest and you already stole the thing they need and vendored it as trash.¡±

    That sounded about right.

    ¡°We could steal them back,¡± Johnny offered.

    ¡°I do need to practice lock picking. Even if it¡¯s manually.¡±

    I burped. It wasn¡¯t as impressive as the butler¡¯s earlier belch. He let out another one that rumbled the foundations.

    Neither of the other two noticed. They were busy plotting some pawn store¡¯s demise.

    ¡°We should! We could steal everything they own.¡± Johnny hoped up and down briefly then rubbed his hands together in excitement. ¡°Then we can resell it to them. You¡¯ll have to do it though. I can teach you how to get a better deal with some haggling. For a share of the profits.¡±

    My head felt heavy. This place had worn it¡¯s welcome. I barely followed who was talking anymore and the dogs were gone. I wanted to be alone so I stared at the butler. His jaundiced eyes stared back.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get the ring,¡± I said. ¡°Rings. Whatever. I can do it.¡±

    ¡°If you wish to try, far be it from me to stop you. Good luck. Please kindly leave your muddy boots at the door next time.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± I smiled and made a mental note to wear dirtier clothes next time. It¡¯d serve him right for telling me what to do and giving me some annoying quest that could probably never be completed. I¡¯d have to learn counter curses or something else. It¡¯d come to me eventually. Despite Johnny¡¯s earlier distaste of my ¡°crusades¡±, I did tend to find a project and stick with it. At least long enough to feel like I¡¯d mad ea difference before the personal drama set in. This virtual world gave me lots of chances to drink, feel like I was worth something, and heaps of events I didn¡¯t want to deal with.

    The pop-up box for the quest was boring. I read it slowly as the butler took his maids and left.

    Quest: Widow¡¯s Husbands

    In a manner, in a valley, near a river called [Super Whined], lived a widow and her children, and their curse throughout all time. Of course, she lives with men occasionally, but they¡¯re often seen fleeing the building as quickly as they might have entered.

    Goal - Stop the curse by overpowering it, marrying the widow so she has happiness, or returning the promise rings

    Reward - You¡¯ll get to feel like a useful person.

    Punishment - Someone else will hate you when you fail this one. So, don¡¯t fail it, okay? Especially since this one comes with undead monsters that will probably march on your grove and turn it into a sopping mess, reclaim the dogs, and destroy anything positive you¡¯ve done as Friday the 13th.

    The quest text should cite a lot about bonuses to skills and abilities but I had those hidden. It may even offer hidden classes like [Curse Breaker] or something, but those notices were often worthless in this game, especially if they were something I¡¯d never use or lose the minute I started a new Friday. What remained was clear enough. I could do something good for the area, or basically make the last few weekends utterly worthless in terms of gains.

    I had an actual quest to fix the place. I had five dogs to feed and sort of take care of, though I suspected they¡¯d do fine on their or with that dryad players help. For now, I wanted some time to myself. Away from Johnny and this mansion.

    ¡°I¡¯m done for today.¡±

    Rose frowned briefly. ¡°You okay?¡±

    ¡°Doing great.¡± I smiled to make my lie believable.

    Rose leaned over toward Johnny. ¡°He¡¯s lying right?¡±

    Johnny grinned widely. ¡°Through his teeth. You can tell because his face gets all white and he wants to be left alone.¡±

    ¡°He wants to make things better but gets freaked out by a quest?¡±

    My small friend shrugged. ¡°Crusades don¡¯t make sense.¡±

    They were talking about me like I wasn¡¯t there. That annoyed me but before my brain could up with a polite way to tell them screw off, I yawned.

    Their question wasn¡¯t that hard anyway. Being an adult gave me lots of emotional baggage. Quests like this hit a bit harder than others. I¡¯d loved and left many women. It also served as the latest in a long line of jabs at my past that Continue had thrown at me, possibly tracing back to a certain Princess I¡¯d left on the first Friday. Admitting links between me and the prior Fridays would add more complications eventually. Plus the events in my virtual world felt parallel to my real life. That meant I really didn¡¯t want to talk about my mistakes with anyone. She seemed like a nice enough girl who had her own issues to work through. I couldn¡¯t let my baggage touch hers. I¡¯d fucked up enough lives.

    Rather than explain that to a naive Rose, I waved goodbye, dropped our party, and walked off. The trip out took less time than our wandering in. Life was like that sometimes. Getting into trouble took less work than getting out. Or maybe that went the other way around. I couldn¡¯t figure out a good analogy and didn¡¯t have the heart to figure out a better way to phrase it.

    They let me be the rest of the weekend. For the next two weekends I had a rather blissful time wandering around the forest which served as my grove. The dogs and I went on hikes around our forest. I found exploring nature easier than trying to play scavenger hunt in a place Johnny had picked clean a few times over. There weren¡¯t many monsters to speak of, or treasures to dig for, only dirt and nature.

    The grove itself had a center at the alter I¡¯d drunkly made from dirt. There were flowers everywhere that added a pleasant smell, but I suspected the lily''s or whatever weren¡¯t because of me. That dryad player, Rose¡¯s mom, delighted in growing new plants everywhere. Nem. I hadn¡¯t seen her since that time weeks ago. Her auto pilot kept away from me despite us both being nature oriented. I¡¯d only see her lurking between trees, not that searching for her was a focus of my weekends. It amounted to a secondary goal while taking the litter on walks. Along with seeing how well the garden grew, or whatever.

    Having a druid''s grove was weird. I¡¯d never owned more than the few belonging in my house. If being in the service taught me anything it was the value of keeping few belongings. Doctors could have afforded plenty of belongings but wouldn¡¯t be home to enjoy them.

    I managed to strike a deal with some of the loggers. They¡¯d bring me liquor and I¡¯d let them take some trees from the town side of the forest. Everybody won.

    I think the dogs missed biting players but I¡¯d promised them they could attack anyone that came deeper into the woods, which made Sarge yip happily.

    To each their own.

    One Sunday evening, according to the real time clock, I found Nem sitting in the middle of the woods humming happily to herself. She spun her hands and flowers grew up in a trail along one of the tree trunks. She¡¯d decorated my alter with pink roses and even the dog¡¯s den have been beautified. It didn¡¯t hurt anything and some of the text popups I¡¯d barely paid attention to said the flowers actually helped. Growing plants around this place added some [Social] stats that made outsiders feel more at ease and reduced aggression of carnivorous animals.

    Apparently, we also needed a nice lake. I¡¯d figure it out eventually. Or reroll. Whichever came first.

    Nem waved over a shoulder without turning around to actually make eye contact.

    I brightened. ¡°Hey. You¡¯re on.¡±

    ¡°We need a wall,¡± the green-skinned woman said quickly. ¡°Sometime to keep those loggers on their side. I logged on last week and saw a quest saying about you making a deal with them. Which I don¡¯t agree with, but maybe it¡¯s easier than fighting them every day. My autopilot can¡¯t do everything.¡±

    It was hard to think of her as a Nem, or Nemesis. Neither name fit green and smiling pleasantly. The cynic in me believe dthat she¡¯d go crazy if we ever broke up, but I didn¡¯t plan on dating her. Not that the idea was out of the question. It¡¯d been months since I¡¯d gone on a date.

    ¡°Walls never work out. China. The Berlin Wall. That America one before the war.¡±

    ¡°But this is a game. Walls would help keep them out of our forest. It would give the dogs a border, so they don¡¯t run into town while we¡¯re logged out. Plus we could let the town log anything on the other side. And I could grow plants along them to add with defense. I think I¡¯m about to make a breakthrough on skills.¡±

    I was a druid so there were a few ways to respond. Hamming up the path felt like fun. ¡°Walls go against nature.¡±

    ¡°Uh huh. Nature would be letting dogs bite their asses.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s how it works.¡±

    ¡°You sure? Maybe we can burn down their houses so they see how it feels to take out some poor bird¡¯s home.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s how it works either.¡±

    ¡°Well what do you think?¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s been a long week and I could use a drink.¡±

    ¡°You buying?¡±

    Rose would be mad if I said yes, but it¡¯d been awhile since I¡¯d hung out with anyone my own age. Girls like Rose didn¡¯t understand half my jokes.

    ¡°If you want to join me. There¡¯s only one bar in town and if I¡¯ve got a deal with the owner. I heal anyone that comes in and they give me all I can drink. At least until I do something stupid enough to get kicked out.¡±

    That took a day or two. The best thing about a player-based town was the amenities. I hadn¡¯t been here when it was founded, but the one bar had been running before anything else had a roof. We ventured off. None of the players, or Travelers, or whatever, bothered us. They didn¡¯t care about another set of people nearby. If anything, other players should be happy to have a middle ranked group nearby to keep one side of town safe enough. I suspected they¡¯d ask to route trade groups to the forest or search for rare herbs one the place was around a bit longer.

    We grabbed a set of benches and talked. Then a few more drinks, and some more talking until eventually I couldn¡¯t even figure out what we were saying. My mind shifted to thinking about the pliability of Nem¡¯s lips. Right until Johnny banged the door open.

    Other patrons frowned. Nem jumped, which made her bark dress shake. No one cared enough to notice though. Girls in Continue often wore attractive clothes. So did the guys, or at least went for imposing as soon as they could get anything crafted to their tastes. I¡¯d once dreamed of being a clothing modifier.

    Johnny ran over to our stoles, ignored Nem, and pulled on my ragged pants. ¡°Friday! You¡¯ll want to see this.¡±

    My chest lifted in a slow sigh. ¡°See what?¡±

    ¡°Something happened at the Widow¡¯s Children dungeon.¡±

    My stomach sank. I swallowed slowly then asked, ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll should see it firsthand.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s hours away and I¡¯m a few drinks in.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re always a few drinks in, but I¡¯ll draw you a picture.¡±

    He pulled out a piece of crumpled paper with markings all over it. In a moment he sketched out the courtyard to [Widow¡¯s Children]. Brick walls on both sides, a giant gate, and in the middle, a tall leafless tree. On it were scowling female faces, mouths half open in a silent scream.

    ¡°This is it right?¡± Johnny asked. ¡°That thing from last time? I remember it on the field with everything else. All those monsters and people. And this tree.¡±

    ¡°What tree now?¡± Nem asked.

    I took a swig of my drink and said, ¡°What a nightmare,¡± then logged out.

    Dating in the virtual world clearly wouldn¡¯t be allowed either. Not without drama from the past rearing its ugly head. Cock-blocked by a prior Friday¡¯s creation.

    Typical. I¡¯d leave it for next weekend.

 Session 14 - Come to Roost

    [Widow¡¯s Children] was an instance I¡¯d have to avoid for awhile. At least, until the quest updated to give me a time limit. It hadn¡¯t had one upon creation but eventually the game may feel I was taking too long. That happened sometimes.

    The reason for my avoidance, a carved tree full of evil ex-girlfriend¡¯s faces which sat rooted right in the middle of [Widow¡¯s Children]. It¡¯d also looked war torn and half broken. The battlefield I¡¯d left behind as Friday the 12th hadn¡¯t killed it off though. Leave it to Continue Online to ensure my failed relationships hung around, immortalized in a boss monster¡¯s bark.

    The north had been full of tundra and wandering mammoths. There¡¯d been dinosaur monsters that fought anything standing, making real trees scarce.

    I¡¯d spent two months of real-world time carving out small statues from broken shards of wood and handing them out to the villagers. They got cold resistances and bonuses to [Brawn] and [Toughness] which were vital to the Locals. I¡¯d been happy, almost respected, then things went to shit. It was my fault for carving on a live tree in the first place. I¡¯d been half mad, drunk beyond belief, and bitter after a girl I liked turned out to have twin boys.

    My first words were the famous ¡°I¡¯d make a terrible father.¡± She expected a better response from me. I¡¯d failed the test then promptly been slapped, shouted at, and dumped somewhere in the middle. We¡¯d been doing good. I¡¯d been sober in real life and the game world. She left, my resolve went with her, and so the tree was born.

    Nem might end up the same way, but at least I knew she had a daughter up front. That¡¯d given me a bit of time to adapt. I couldn¡¯t fail to be a good father because Rose had grown up already. That counted.

    We were two adults who might have a good time. Or we might not. I felt almost happy thinking about having another drink with a woman who knew what she wanted and couldn¡¯t surprise me.

    I whistled. The pack of dogs arrived, barking and tumbling over each other. My inventory had been emptied and I¡¯d run out of treats.

    ¡°Down boys. Down. Ball. Chain, no biting. I only have one pair of clothes.¡± The girls let go of my ankles but continued bouncing around my body. The game fed me a vague impulse that the dogs were trying to get me to follow them.

    I walked through the wilderness of my grove until reaching the chest high alter. A rolled-up note sat on the top with a little flower growing around it like a bow. On it was written, Almost had fun! Try against next weekend. I¡¯ll be on Sunday night if you¡¯re around.

    I wiggled my nose then put the piece of paper away into inventory. It¡¯d be nice to have a reminder that women liked me now and then, at least they did up until introducing me to their children. Rose played the game too, had her own issues, and liked to stab monsters. She also drank. Those were all wins in my book.

    ¡°Well,¡± I thumbed through my interface to see what my drinking buddies were up to. ¡°Nem¡¯s off. Johnny¡¯s out scamming someone, Stone¡¯s building a wall. Rose isn¡¯t on. That leaves just us. You guys want to go for a hike?¡±

    Sarge¡¯s bark answered for all of them. We ventured off. I hid most of the game¡¯s interface except for a map. The dogs kept trying to lead me into the wild unknown and I felt zero desire to go that far.

    The game occasionally forced me to go places but for now my world had been limited. There was the player town, my grove which stretched on a small forever, a meandering river that went on even longer, and [Widow¡¯s Children]. I didn¡¯t need more than those places. Not even a pack of overly excited dogs could convince me otherwise.

    Johnny hadn¡¯t logged on. StoneMason¡¯s character stayed on autopilot most days. He¡¯d been building a solid wall so the towns folk would have a clear border. Sometimes players weren¡¯t respectful of other people¡¯s property, but I¡¯d found any city that survived long enough did it¡¯s best to keep the peace.

    It helped that their trade line ran through the woods.

    ¡°You been eating well?¡±

    Sarge barked. Sleepy yawned from behind us. I got the impression they were well fed but could always pack away more in their stomachs.

    ¡°Uh huh,¡± I said with a nod. ¡°Well. It¡¯s time for the weekly in game bath, so it¡¯s to the river for me. Remember the river?¡±

    Rose insisted on the bath. Apparently, I smelled like I¡¯d been in nature too long. My nose had curled up and died a long time ago. Even the worst situations barely got a rise out of me anymore.

    If I washed myself off, she¡¯d promised the first round would be on her. That was worth stopping by and washing off. It helped mana too so I spent a lot of the time casting spells. There hadn¡¯t been a good [Grime Off] ability in the [Druid] class, and my [Priest] ability [Cleansing Fire] hadn¡¯t transferred over. Sitting in a quiet room for a week praying over my clothes and keeping them spotless, for a skill, didn¡¯t appeal.

    ¡°Come on!¡±

    Ball and Chain perked up. They were water dogs. Sleepy refused to move quickly because he hated getting wet. Sarge nipped him and he slowly got up and shuffled after us. He¡¯d catch up eventually, Sleepy always did.

    Trap had ventured into the wild unknown. Probably trying to bite a fantasy hedgehog to death.

    ¡°Trap! Come on. We¡¯re going to go to the river. Maybe there¡¯s some fish for you to chase.¡±

    The dog didn¡¯t show up despite Sarge¡¯s commanding barks to gather. At least, that¡¯s what [Animal Understanding] made his noises equal. I¡¯d stopped questioning the ability after it ranked up twice more during a weekend hike. Apparently, the key to that skill was simply to assume the dogs were responding in human words and move on from there.

    ¡°Well. He¡¯ll catch up, right?¡±

    Sarge whimpered.

    ¡°You guys are always together, right? Or close enough. Must be weird to have brothers and sisters. I¡¯m an only child. My parents didn¡¯t want two.¡±

    He snorted. Ball and Chain yipped then dashed ahead, getting lost in underbrush. They¡¯d play around as we traveled over the dirt and through the woods. That¡¯s how it always went. They moved at different paces sometimes, sometimes all together.

    ¡°I guess it was good. Dad probably would have gone insane if there¡¯d been five of us. After mom left he had a hard enough time.¡±

    Sarge tilted his head. I reached down to awkwardly scratch the overgrown puppy between his ears. He licked my hand we continued along a semi-worn path.

    I liked the dogs. Despite my initial worry about having to care for them, they proved perfectly capable of handling themselves. Whether by virtue of their virtual natures or being cared for by Nem and StoneMason. Nature, nurture, maybe both were required.

    ¡°Yeah. Parents are a pain. I don¡¯t normally talk about mine. Did you know my dad died when I was in the service? I¡¯m older than him now. How weird is that?¡±

    Sarge didn¡¯t respond. I liked that.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how you guys put up with me babbling away here. It¡¯s quiet enough and about the only thing making any noise is us. Maybe it¡¯s because you don¡¯t talk.¡±

    Sarge dashed ahead and sat on a huge rock that poked out of the slope. He stared back at me and tilted his head. One ear perked up while the other flopped to the side. I never did figure out what breed they were, besides big. They reminded me of a strange mix between Bessette Hounds and Germen Shepherds.

    ¡°Too much talking?¡±

    There were no feelings one way or the other from Sarge. Ball and Chain dashed from left to right, chasing after something small and fleeting. I let them have their fun and hoped whatever critter they¡¯d been after escaped safely, but if it didn¡¯t, then that was part of the process.

    Nature did what it did. This was a game world and there¡¯d always be more [Coo-Coo Rill]s somewhere. Part of me felt like that single thought should have somehow overturned the druid grove magic, but nothing popped up.

    The rest of me believed that caring about nature in a video game should be accompanied by eye rolling. The whole situation made zero sense. No one should care about nature in a place that anything but natural.

    I continued up the hill and stared down at the meandering river. The same one I¡¯d laid in to teleport after.

    ¡°None of this is real.¡± The dogs lined up, all five of them and stared down with me. ¡°But that is a beautiful view, right?¡±

    Once, I¡¯d dated a woman who loved going somewhere new every date. Our dinners were followed by visits to museums or art galleries. Once such visit had been to a three floor exhibit in New York that was all painted views of real world locations. They¡¯d depicted this exact sort of scene. I¡¯d never really seen them as more than smudges of paint.

    I sort of got it now.

    ¡°You know, being a druid isn¡¯t half bad if I can see a sight like this now and then. No people dying. Nobody bleeding because they put their fingers in a shredder. No bombs buried in the dirt or people shooting at me.¡± I waved at the river, not really expecting the dogs to care about my gesture but doing it out of habit. ¡°Just a peaceful spot. Makes me wish I was poet.¡±

    Sarge barked.

    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m being weird.¡±

    Sarge barked again.

    ¡°Okay. Maybe all people are weird to you. I mean there¡¯s StoneMason. He¡¯s a giant baby. Nem¡¯s made of green.¡± Sarge half barked, half whimpered. I frowned. ¡°No. She¡¯s a nice lady. You¡¯re right. She¡¯s just green. Like the trees.¡±

    The lead dog sneezed.

    ¡°Johnny visits you guys right? Don¡¯t tell anyone, but I think most of his money ends up feeding the poor. There¡¯s a few player run orphanages that he slinks off to when no one¡¯s looking.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    One of the dogs didn¡¯t believe me. They liked Johnny, which meant something, but they liked everyone who fed them.

    Ball and Chain sneezed.

    ¡°Allergies?

    Their responses were muddled as the collective pack ventured down the hill toward the river. Sleepy immediately plopped down just out of the water¡¯s range and promptly went to bed. Ball and Chain both ran into the water and stared down at a swimming victim, or possibly a rock. It was hard to tell.

    I bathed. They played then eventually ran out of energy. After a bit I picked up a piece of wood and practiced carving away at the edges using a small knife Rose had gifted me. She had lots of them to spare.

    Whittling took time and patience. It required looking at the wood to see which way the grain curved. My fingers were stiff from the freezing river water and the first few cuts were sloppy. I smoothed them out and made a mental note to find sanding paper on my next trip into town.

    Continue Online¡¯s version of modern supplies wasn¡¯t perfect. Everything had a dated feel to it, but sanding paper had been around for ages in one form or another. On the prior Friday I¡¯d used a bristle brush made from a dead beaver¡¯s hairs. Though they didn¡¯t call them beavers either.

    I¡¯d hadn¡¯t carved wood in real life since boot camp. Those quiet nights where they were training us to sit on patrol and something needed to be done to pass the time. I¡¯d taken to carving small bits of wood stolen on the day¡¯s trek with a pocket knife.

    It kept me calm.

    I took the piece in my hands and thought it might vaguely be a woman¡¯s silhouette, if I finished the valley between her legs and a bit of space up around the head. It wouldn¡¯t make a good dog and certainly wasn¡¯t a majestic hawk.

    Hawks were hard. Their feathers could be sort of glazed over if the general curve was there. It takes finer tools than I had on hand to get proper beak lines. Maybe I could find some videos while at work and research better woodworking techniques.

    ¡°That¡¯s got to be a perk. Your world,¡± my hand waved the knife as I explained to Sarge, ¡°it¡¯s got all sorts of stupid things we¡¯ve forgotten how to do. Take this. Hardly anyone works with wood anymore. Trees are protected. Nearly everything manufactured in the last ten years has to be mostly recycled.¡±

    They were unimpressed by my speech. Apparently, the state of trees in my world meant nothing to them. Or they didn¡¯t understand. I sighed and went back to doing nothing special at all. If I had to chose between this and being drunk, being drunk might win, but I enjoyed sitting here in these beautiful surroundings.

    ¡°I think I figured out why I like it here so much. It¡¯s absolutely nothing like the rest of my life.¡±

    The dogs huffed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t believe me? It¡¯s not all forests and squirrels in my world. Not even undead to munch on. Dead maybe.¡±

    The thought made me sick.

    Sleepy yawned. He pawed at the ground in front of him and dug up grass then his head fell to the ground with a nearly audible thud. The other dogs weren¡¯t that far behind him, half dozing in the relative safety of my grove.

    I shook off my earlier flash and smiled, ¡°A nap does sound good.¡±

    The best perk of working with Nem on the grove was our combined races and Paths made it peaceful. Monsters wouldn¡¯t spawn here unless a big disaster came our way. Or maybe a Traveler screwed around with us.

    It¡¯d be worse if one of my past problems caught up. I dreaded to think what would happen if the [Deadlands Tree of Woe] managed to into this grove. Without an [Inspection] skill I had no clue what its rank was, but since the darn tree followed me from one character to the next across [Arcadia], it had to be high.

    I kept at the carving for a bit longer then set down the piece of wood. It looked nothing like a woman or the dogs. It had ended up a bit clunky around the edges and my one knife had too clunky a point to get definition lines etched into it.

    ¡°Not my finest work,¡± I mumbled.

    The dogs snored their brains out. I logged out and stretched in real life then came back to find them still standing down by the river, united and barking uneasily. My statue was not in the same spot. A man sat on a tree that had been standing up perfectly when I¡¯d left.

    Rot hung off the edges of the tree. That bothered me because it meant this new person had been screwing around with my grove. It must have been fast acting magic of some sort to hit during my brief absence.

    He had a large sack propped against the fallen log. The ground around that sack was fouler than the rest. In one hand he held my statue, in the other he had a repeater crossbow of some sort. It might have been an actual gun but those were pretty rare in Continue Online. Either way, it didn¡¯t shoot rainbows or candy.

    He set down my statue then plucked the lit cigar from his mouth. He licked at dry lips while throwing his cigar onto the ground. He pointed with the free hand and said, ¡°You¡¯re Friday.¡±

    ¡°Technically Friday is a weekday,¡± I answered dryly. It was actually a different date in game but trying to keep track of that system without a calendar drove me insane. So, today was certainly Friday. ¡°And you¡¯re littering. There¡¯s a fine for that.¡±

    There might be real fines for messing up the town. In this grove I¡¯d probably need to enforce my own fines and that sounded annoying. I eyed the cigar until I felt sure it¡¯d go out, and wouldn¡¯t start a forest fire.

    ¡°You. You¡¯re the Traveler known as Friday.¡±

    His cigar still smoldered which distracted me. The weapon in his hand clicked as he lifted it up. I tore my gaze away from the discarded tobacco and wondered why the hell anyone would show up out of the blue, in my grove, searching for me.

    Then I realized I¡¯d claimed the [Legacy] for all other Fridays. Whatever crud they¡¯d left behind was mine to deal with now. Which meant this would not go in a direction that I even remotely liked. It would end up somewhere cruddy and annoying. If the storyline of Friday¡¯s past intended to catch up with me during my happy times, then I¡¯d go down laughing then simply delete myself.

    Sarge whimpered. The man scared him, I knew that, and they¡¯d fought undead maids and butlers while chasing players out of the woods. These dogs weren¡¯t the summoned versions that might survive whatever was thrown at them.

    I tried again, ¡°People have told me that I can¡¯t be Friday. Fridays a day not a person.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re Friday,¡± he said a third time. He leveled a crossbow at me. The remaining dogs stood up to join Trap in a tired snarl. I put a hand out to try and keep them calm.

    ¡°Oh. You mean Doctor Friday. Or Priest Friday?¡±

    ¡°Travelers.¡± The man spit on the ground, making my designation sound like a curse word. ¡°I mean the man who¡¯s ran off and left the queen with a bastard child. The one who¡¯s ruined the line of succession for two kingdoms. You¡¯re that Friday, and doctor or not I¡¯m here to collect your head.¡±

    He reached into his pocket, pulled out a second cigar, and lit it, all with one hand. I found the action impressive, but it meant he knew fire magic of some sort. The bounty hunter, because that¡¯s the only sort of person who¡¯d come this far for me, then turned the sack upside down and shook until a tiny body, no more than a foot high at best, fell out.

    I didn¡¯t recognize the creature based on looks but knew who it must be because of my own play history. If the hunter was here about Friday the first, then that floating tiny bundle had to be from Friday the second. Honestly, I¡¯d never seen a pixie outside of this one.

    Though the shadow creatures who¡¯d chased us through the woods were pretty close. Undead versions and much larger. I hoped they¡¯d all died back on the field where I¡¯d logged out on Friday the twelfth.

    ¡°Recognize my little homing device?¡± the huntsman asked.

    ¡°Dari. Probably. He looks pretty beat up. You been feeding him after midnight?¡±

    His eyebrow went up. The pixie rolled around. Dirt under him blackened until the earth for a dozen feet around the hunter was turned to rot.

    Sarge barked then whimpered. His tail curled. If I were to guess at what the dog felt, it would be worry. I tried to reassure Sarge by explaining. ¡°Dari¡¯s an old friend I lost track of while running for my life. Years ago, I guess.¡±

    Sleepy yawned. He didn¡¯t understand at all. Ball and Chain stood huddled behind Sarge and tilted their heads in unison, ears flopping at the same time. I tried not to feel sick because the fouled ground under Dari was spreading.

    The bounty hunter kicked at the small pixie lightly. My stomach tensed and lips tightened. He said, ¡°Dari the Broken. Last of his clan I¡¯m told.¡±

    I whispered to the dogs, ¡°A shade pixie. Which is rare because most Faeries survive from sunlight, or so he used to tell me.¡±

    My would be assailant didn¡¯t seem to care about the explanation. ¡°This little pile of excrement has been helping home in on your location.¡±

    Dari probably hated me with a burning passion. The few brief moments I¡¯d seen him on other Fridays ended poorly. Today he looked even worse than a year ago.

    I snorted briefly. This sounded like the start of a bad joke. ¡°A bounty hunter and a faerie walk into the woods.¡±

    Sarge barked. Ideas were shoved into my brain that didn¡¯t make a lot of sense. My [Animal Understanding] might not be high enough yet to decipher that wall of gibberish.

    So, I guessed, ¡°I don¡¯t know the punchline, but I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be terrible.¡±

    He huffed then dug his paws into the ground, eager to fight but cautious. My eyes blinked slowly with more force than needed. Having his thoughts simply shoved at me like he¡¯d almost spoken words still threw me off a second time.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll get to attacking soon. Probably try to tie me up. I haven¡¯t been tied up in months.¡±

    Trap barked then dug at the ground. He liked chewing knots.

    The man smiled. He seemed content to see that I was crazy. Or he had to make sure I was really Friday. The fallen pixie hadn¡¯t done anything aside from roll on the ground sobbing to itself. ¡°Oh no. There¡¯s a bounty for keeping you alive, but the Queen decided that simply killing you might be easier. Word is she¡¯s tired of trying to show the crown prince her father, and will settle for showing him your skull instead.¡±

    My lips tightened. There was an outright bounty out for my head now.

    ¡°So,¡± I started saying, hoping he¡¯d get on with his stupidity. While I got shot to death the dogs could run, my head would go to the queen, and maybe I¡¯d be done with her nonsense for the rest of my lives.

    The man smiled. ¡°You and your dogs can all die.¡± He dropped the cigar and fired.

    Sarge barked. The ground sizzled from his lit stick of tobacco.  Sleepy sneezed and fell on my legs. I hadn¡¯t even noticed the dogs got that close. Ball and Chain darted off, their fur almost immediately blending with the surroundings.

    ¡°Not you guys!¡± I shouted while covering my head. ¡°Run! Get somewhere safe.¡±

    Two more clicks were followed by high powered chunks of wood splintering. It sounded like gunfire. Exactly like being shot at.

    I attempted to focus. This wasn¡¯t a war and sobriety made flashbacks harder to push away. My eyes opened as I rolled to one side. Sleepy yipped. I caught sight of him slinking off toward the river with his tail curled up behind him. The girls were nowhere to be seen.

    ¡°Be careful!¡± I yelled at them, terrified they could die for real.

    A quick [Tiny Lightning Bolt] lanced toward the bounty hunter then veered to the side abruptly, slamming into the felled tree.

    One of the puppies yelped.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± I cursed.

    Smoke billowed out by the fallen tree. His footsteps crunched wood as the bounty hunter took up a new position. A bolt spouted next to my face making me jerk to one side in abrupt panic.

    The other man said something, but I couldn¡¯t tell what over all the barking. Sarge¡¯s noises kept going, rapid fire so fast my ears felt like they were turning to mush. I rolled my eyes and cast healing spells toward where the dogs were hopefully fighting.

    I¡¯d been too relaxed out here and not paying attention to any of my normal interface options. Bars came up showing the dogs health but they were blurred by the smoke. Even knowing the system interface functioned helped me calm down. This wasn¡¯t a war. I wasn¡¯t out in the damn field being shot at.

    Two more ranged healing spells went off. They could have been fixing the bounty hunter but if they helped keep the dogs alive for a few seconds, I didn¡¯t care. Smoke started to clear. Sarge still echoed commands that were too difficult to understand. Ball and Chain were growling about something.

    Panic proved harder to push down than I¡¯d remembered. Having companions who weren¡¯t players is what did it. If they died, they weren¡¯t coming back and that one thought kept repeating in my head.

    I kept firing spells toward the center of the smoke, hoping that healing would solve everything. It didn¡¯t. The bars for my pack of dogs finally came up and they were all over the place. Sarge¡¯s health was damn slow. Sleepy had some marking saying he was knocked out. Ball and Chain were bleeding.

    ¡°What is going on?¡±

    War. That¡¯s what Sarge emotions were when he barked.

    ¡°War,¡± I repeated dumbly. There were more ambushers. Not simply one.

    He was riled up. The damn game almost made me feel his bristled fur as he bit at flesh. The dog wrestled with someone and I just couldn¡¯t fucking see it. None of my spells had prepared me for this.

    ¡°Focus,¡± I told myself. It was just a game, but everything happened so fast I¡¯d been caught off guard. Training is what I needed to fall back on. Boot camp and the war had been over a dozen years ago, but the first rules were the simplest. First, stay low and small. Second, to get to safety.

    I crawled and tried to remember all the stupid spells I¡¯d been ignoring. None of them seemed fit for the current mess. Except the [Earth Shape] one I¡¯d used to make my alter. It was a frustratingly hard spell to use because I had to simply do, not think or cast down a rune on the ground like my other spells.

    My arm sunk into the earth slowly. My free hand pressed against the ground and traced out a jerky healing spell.

    ¡°Heel!¡± I shouted while lifted the arm away from me. Earth slopped to the side in a huge wave. My mana bar plummeted. Sweat dripped down my brow and it felt like my legs were going to give way. They were serving as a poor brace against the moving ground.

    The dirt rolled to one side in a sloppy wall. I pulled myself behind it and threw another heal toward the sounds of dogs snarling. Now I had a bit of safe space to fight back. I only needed to do well enough to get the pups to safety.

    After that, they could have my head and I wouldn¡¯t care.

 Session 15 â€“ The Sadder Souls

    <h1>Session 15 ¨C The Sadder Souls</h1>

    Bounty hunters. I knew now based on the sounds of shouts that there was more than one. Maybe four or five. They¡¯d come in a squad and probably had me surrounded. I brought up the bars and tried to find any visual indication which way the dogs had gone. There was nothing. No obvious arrows.

    I flinched as something hit the wall behind me and dirt sprayed. My mind repeated that this wasn¡¯t a real war but now the stupid thought had hit me and I wasn¡¯t drunk enough to ignore it, I couldn¡¯t relax.

    A second wall was shoveled up to my left. The hole I sat in grew deeper after earth shifted to the new location. They were barely three feet tall and about that wide. Enough to cower behind. That¡¯s where I sat, huddled tightly and trying to find a way to help the dogs without getting myself murdered.

    It wasn¡¯t death that bothered me. The pain feedback hurt, of course, but I wanted to do one thing right. I found my chat window and typed ¡°help¡± to anyone paying attention. Johnny might see. Rose might log on. I didn¡¯t have time to sit, staring at a box and flipped away the window.

    Next step, ask for closer help. ¡°Come on Dari! Just stop being evil for a second and zap them away!¡± This fog had to be set by that cigar dropping. My clues had been the dogs sneezing and Trap being away. He¡¯d probably noticed the material being set.

    Dari didn¡¯t respond and I¡¯d already moved onto the next goal.

    ¡°Okay, next step. Don¡¯t be where they¡¯re shooting,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°Three o¡¯clock!¡± one of them shouted, followed by a dog¡¯s growl.

    Putting up walls had been easy enough. Mana intensive because earth shaping skills were difficult to master, even for a theoretically mid-rank [Druid] like me. Especially one who¡¯s only real spell usage revolved around healing. That¡¯s all I¡¯d done with this Friday, and small bolts.

    I tossed out another one, shoveled mud to save mana, and prayed for a heavy rain.

    Thunder rolled above me. My back tensed and I worried that even the brief thought of prayer, combined with my [Priest] classes, had resolute in rain.

    Grass spouted in a wave around me. Hair on my arms stood up. The forest was responding to something and I felt sure it wasn¡¯t me. I hadn¡¯t done anything besides throw around a million healing spells. I flipped through my character sheet searching for options.

    [Tranquil Skies] would bring down sunbeams that healed the area and damage undead. That was great but I wanted the thunder to turn into rain and it¡¯d be a constant drain that rooted me in place. It¡¯d also put beasts to sleep, and my pack might stop being aware enough to defend themselves. I flipped the spell away.

    ¡°Corners,¡± the man who¡¯d spoken earlier shouted. ¡°Ignore the damn dryad and get around him!¡± There were footsteps racing on either side of me. The dogs were quieter. I fiddled with the interface trying to get my bearings and pulled out my staff.

    Dunking myself in the river would speed up my mana regeneration but water would slow down my movement. At higher ranks it¡¯d be possible to earth shape a channel over here, but my abilities wouldn¡¯t last long enough or reach that far. I¡¯d been relying on the dogs too much for combat and now that their deaths would be real, I liked it less. I yanked up another spell and wondered what the heck [Natural Inversion] did.

    Apparently, it made undead things live, and living things undead. I could turn this entire place into a rotting nightmare. The origin note at the bottom said something long winded about this being a reversal based spell. I vaguely remember tracking healing spells backwards and something happening, but I¡¯d been too drunk to follow through.

    Useful later, not now.

    My stealth abilities were clearly useless because the bolts kept coming. A decoy would help. I flipped it away and pulled my tattered shirt over my head. It wrapped around the staff. [Illumination] triggered with a thought.

    The staff made me an obvious target in all the smoke. I¡¯d counted on that. They¡¯d hit me not the dogs. A few seconds after pulling it out, bolts from the enemies grazed my coverage. One nicked my arm.

    ¡°Ow,¡± I said happily. ¡°Please not the face.¡± Rampant area of effect healing spells sowed up the wound almost as soon as the pain registered.

    ¡°He¡¯s wounded,¡± a shaky voice said from the side. His yelped as low growls came from his area.

    ¡°Girls! Behave.¡± The staff sort of looked like a person with the jeweled hilt glowing proudly. A man who¡¯s face was bright like the sun poking through clouds. Ball and Chain continued to continued to snarl lowly as they tore into the poor hunter. ¡°Or don¡¯t,¡± I muttered. ¡°Stay here. Get killed. See if I care.¡±

    No one important had died yet.

    Another bolt slammed into the dirt. It clicked as the tip turned redder. That wouldn¡¯t be good. I waved my ranged healing spell toward the girls and took off in the other direction, straight for the water. My dog¡¯s health went down and back up almost immediately.

    I longed for the old game¡¯s method of health bars and auto targeting which made a healers job easier. Behind me the projectile exploded.

    The smoke should be clearer there as it was an open area. My mana would regenerate.

    I stuck the staff out behind me then ran, hoping they¡¯d focus on the light and miss my form a few feet in front of it.

    Smoky air clung to me like flour. Both eyes watered. The staff trailed behind, held aloft by an armpit and braced hand. My other arm curled in front of me, warding off anything I might crash into.

    Trees gave way with barely a brush. This path had to be wrong. There¡¯d been no darn trees between me and the river. I paused. One of the bounty hunters came flying out of the darkness with a mace over his head.

    His wide eyes glowed despite the smoke. ¡°Here!¡±

    ¡°There!¡± I responded then tilted in a new direction. His overhead swing descended upon the glowing staff instead of my face. The shock sent me stumbling. My stumble turned into a roll. Down I went, trying to steady myself but failing.

    My body slammed into something nearly solid. Pain lanced up my shoulder. The surface gave way. My eyes closed. Water filled into my mouth and ears. Both eyes burned when I attempted to open them.

    I¡¯d found the river.

    Loud splashing pierced through my muffled hearing. The dog¡¯s barks felt like distant echoes from miles away. Men screamed and I hoped Ball and Chain had picked a weaker enemy to pincer. The smoke had thinned but not enough for my liking. Sleepy had almost no health. The [Staff of Thaddeus] glowed at the hill. I couldn¡¯t figure out where Ball and Chain were anymore. Sarge¡¯s steady barks had turned into panic.

    ¡°Run away guys. Come on! Don¡¯t stay here for me. I¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    No one listened to me.

    Our battle had gone to shit. These Bounty Hunters were prepared for me, as a [Druid], with dogs. They¡¯d brought equal number. I¡¯d gathered they distracted Nem¡¯s autopilot somehow. If it weren¡¯t my excessive healing spamming, the pack would be digitally deceased and my head would be on it¡¯s way back to the queen.

    ¡°Sarge. Sarge. Leave me behind. It¡¯s fine I swear.¡±

    I¡¯d heard those words before. I¡¯d heard those damnable words before and the mere thought of it made my chest seize. They were putting themselves at risk because of me.

    They weren¡¯t real. They were just digital pets. They were real. I¡¯d been enjoying myself, relaxing by the river moments before.

    ¡°Fuck this game!¡± I yelled while running for the staff. If I could pick it up, if I could wave it around, the Bounty Hunters would be distracted and maybe this time Sarge would listen.

    The first bounty hunter met me at the staff. I swung it badly, letting the weapon clatter into him. He braced for impact and I dove for his legs, sending him spiraling to the ground. Bottles at his waste burst. Strange orders filled the air. Something inside his back belt pocket popped.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have your head on a pike!¡± he said between grunts.

    Heavy thudding shook the ground and bounced off the trees.

    ¡°The giant¡¯s loose!¡± said a second person that stepped out from behind a tree. Their smoke faded as I tried to keep the first guys body between me and the loaded projectile.

    The man I was wrestling with went wide eyed. ¡°Damn Travelers.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t remember much besides the basics of fighting someone on the ground. Pull hair. Get a grip around the neck. Grab onto buttons and belts. Shove fingers in their eyeballs. Bite. Everything was fair in war.

    ¡°Two¡¯s down. Three¡¯s pinned.¡±

    ¡°Get him off me!¡± the man I fought yelled.

    The thudding in the distance grew louder. My teeth ached with each fall. It sounded like a giant was lumbering toward us at a steady pace.

    ¡°Friday?¡± the babyish voice of StoneMason echoed.

    He would arrive while I was trying to die heroically to save the dogs. My eyes tightened clear tears and dirt.

    ¡°Get the dogs out of here!¡± I demanded.

    ¡°Friday?¡±

    He acted like he hadn¡¯t heard me. ¡°Get Sarge and the,¡± an elbow cut me off.

    His loud rumbling footsteps shook the earth. It had to be a skill, or maybe me being given sensations due to this being my grove. It didn¡¯t matter because I could tell StoneMason was charging toward the small barricades I¡¯d been hiding at moments before.

    My foe scrambled away and getting to his feet faster than I could. ¡°Quick!¡± he said while limping. ¡°Prepare the-¡±

    ¡°Heads up!¡± StoneMason shouted over the bounty hunter¡¯s words. A hand quickly wiped away dirt to get a better view on what was happening.

    A tree sailed through the air overhead. Thick branches knocked the man to one side. He cried out in pain as he hit the ground and tumbled again.

    ¡°There¡¯s more,¡± I yelled with a hoarse voice.

    The giant either didn¡¯t hear me, or didn¡¯t care. He turned toward another foe that appeared out of nowhere. He had thick gloves on his hands that probably weighed a ton.

    StoneMason pulled another tree out of magical player inventory and swung. His long makeshift club cracked and splintered a once living tree and kept right on going. The bounty hunter I had barely noticed seen pressed both hands to his chest. His body flashed golden right as the tree impacted his chest. He went flying straight into another tree. StoneMason¡¯s club fell to pieces.

    ¡°Seriously?¡± I questioned. They were destroying my grove.

    The baby-faced giant still didn¡¯t hear me or seem to care. He discarded his leftover trunk without hesitation and ran for the lead hunter. The man I¡¯d been wrestling with limped fast, one hand pressed to his side like his ass might fall off.

    StoneMason won, tackling him to the ground. A second later he had him pinned and punched repeatedly without regard.

    ¡°That¡¯s two down,¡± StoneMason shouted. He thumped the hunter¡¯s face again, turning it into greater mush. He stood up with both fists raised above him like a prize-fighter.

    ¡°Anyone else?¡± he asked while looking around.

    I stared at the carnage. Dogs limped into a circle. Sarge¡¯s lighter fur dripped with blood. Ball and Chain were down on the ground whimpering softly. Sleepy¡¯s health bar had been worse but I couldn¡¯t find him.

    My eyes closed. It was too real. I¡¯d seen that exact scene earlier this week. An explosion in someone¡¯s house where one family member made it. The other, hadn¡¯t. My stomach curled.

    ¡°Is that it? A bunch of numbered bounty hunters? That¡¯s boring.¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Nem¡¯s autopilot walked to our riverside gathering leisurely, with Sleepy in her arms. His whiter fur was an utter mess and the longer hairs had matted together in nasty looking clumps. I took two breathes then cast every healing spell I could find on the mess of dogs.

    ¡°You should have run,¡± I said.

    Sleepy didn¡¯t respond. [Animal Understanding] felt muted and dim. My ears still rang from the water and these clothes clung to my skin. The foggy white powder seeped through the fabric and itched.

    My own problems would wait. I kept going until my mana ran dry. The dogs weren¡¯t healing at high speeds. Something about the material clinging to them lowered the effectiveness of all my spells. I motioned for Nem to bring Sleepy over to the river and tried to rinse him off while renewing the spells.

    It worked, but poorly.

    ¡°This place is a mess,¡± StoneMason shouted.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± I mouthed.

    ¡°Deafened by a spell!¡± he yelled. ¡°No control over my voice. These guys were prepared. It¡¯s why I hate bounty hunters. They almost always have a bunch of low rank counters to everything. Look at all those traps they set up.¡±

    StoneMason gestured to the mess of our field. There were a lot of sprung bear traps in the woods. Some had rabbits, others sticks or pieces of fur. The dead man he¡¯d pounded to mush oozed and popped making Ball and Chain flinch. They slunk over to the river with Sleepy and rubbed against Sarge.

    They were an utter mess. Fighting undead had been miles easier, especially when my healing basically defeated them all for us.

    ¡°Hate it. Realized I couldn¡¯t hear birds but thought maybe I was in a zone. Just building a wall. Almost done too! I bet I¡¯ll get something great when it¡¯s done. Like a plus to stone masonry. Then I can be StoneMason the stone mason.¡±

    His rambling kept resetting my brain. That coupled with a heartbeat that thrummed too fast for my own liking. The dogs kept licking at me and their wet tongues were slimy compared to the water.

    ¡°Baths. Take baths,¡± I pointed at them. Sarge barked and nipped until Sleepy woke up and dipped a paw into the water. Ball and Chain stepped in then stood there letting the water swirl around them.

    Their wounds might be healing slowly, but the liquid had to sting.

    Nem¡¯s autopilot kept quiet but took care of the animals with more tenderness than I would have imagined. She really did like dogs. If her autopilot was even half the woman the real Nem was, she¡¯d be a great person. I¡¯d have to ask her out for a trip to the river, with a drink, when there weren¡¯t bounty hunters to turn the place into a disaster.

    Knowing that the enemies were dead and my dogs were okay helped. Except only four of them were present and I¡¯d forgotten something.

    ¡°What¡¯s Trap?¡± I asked while shaking.

    Sarge barked. He sounded proud but tired. Or tired but happy. I couldn¡¯t process the chill that made him wag his tail and limp on a damaged paw the same time. He pawed at the air then turned around and walked away.

    Nem stayed behind working with the other three dogs. StoneMason lumbered by me, one large meaty finger in his ear digging at it. He cracked his jaw then shook his head.

    ¡°Can¡¯t hear a flipping thing. It¡¯s like I¡¯m underwater.¡±

    I gave a thumbs up.

    ¡°Yeah! Maybe I can get like, a ninja skill. Quick, try to sneak up on me. If I can block you fifty times without looking, maybe it¡¯ll qualify. I can be a Stone Faced Ninja.¡±

    ¡°Giant¡¯s can¡¯t be ninjas.¡±

    He didn¡¯t hear me and kept rambling about how I should try to stab him in the back while he wasn¡¯t looking. I almost did, just to get him to shut up. Of course, his attempts at getting more skills reminded me how badly I¡¯d failed to utilize mine. Running with the staff as a decoy might have worked, but it should have been easier to command trees to march upon my foes and eat them, or something.

    I flipped through screens while shakily following Sarge. Finally, I landed upon one in gold.

    Event!

    Nature versus Nurture III

    What¡¯s better; to fight for yourself or let someone else do it for you?

    Nurture might be building up your minions into a formidable army. It might come with skills to make sure those animals you spent time with truly listened to your orders.

    Nature might be commanding the plants to fight for you. The very ground you walk upon could bend to your whims and overwhelm your enemies.

    Really, it¡¯s hard to say for sure until you explore both options. We¡¯d give you a full list, but you¡¯ve shown yourself to be the kind of Traveler who doesn¡¯t care about numbers. Naturally.

    So, until you pick one, nature might not listen to you, and nurturing might mean you¡¯re still ignored. Choose. Or don¡¯t. But don¡¯t be fooled, not picking is also a choice¡­

    If I read between the of my increasingly snarky event notices, this frustrating chain served as a focal point for all my issues during that fight. If I leaned one way, I could probably get spells to wear bark-like armor and command plants to swallow people into the earth. Or if I leaned the other, maybe Sarge would pay attention when I said ¡°Run¡±.

    As a player, both had appeal. As a person who simply wanted to get by, neither one meant more than the other. If this whole mess got out of hand I¡¯d run my current character toward the queen¡¯s town, get killed, then delete myself. That should wrap up the entire event with my head on pike and I¡¯d start a new character.

    The dogs would be okay with Nem. She could manage the grove if she cared to.

    Sarge sneezed. I snapped out of the vanishing act I¡¯d been contemplating and looked around.

    StoneMason stood still as a statue. Sarge sat down slowly then shook his still hurting paw. In front of us was the missing fifth dog of our party. Trap had cornered the small faerie I¡¯d forgotten all about in a corner. Rotten pieces of tree were on either side of Dari and one of his wings looked heavily damaged. Almost torn to shreds.

    ¡°I¡¯ll eat your soul!¡± Dari shouted, throwing a stick at Trap¡¯s snarling mug. The dog flinched then dove back into position, holding still and pointing his nose at Dari. The sprite kept rambling, throwing anything in range. ¡°I¡¯ll fill it with oil and deep fry it like one of those muddy human treats!¡±

    Trap sneezed then resumed keeping the winged creature cornered.

    Dari kept right on rambling. ¡°Get back you filthy unshaven mutt. A pox on you.¡± He attempted to dodge to the left but Trap¡¯s face followed him. ¡°A pox on your mother and father! May their shits be runny and noses dead to the world. I¡¯ll eat their hearts and wear their hides as slippers!¡±

    Trap growled steadily. Sarge yipped a command. Dari shook. ¡°That¡¯s right, listen to your betters you bedwetting mop! Back those soiled mitts up before I step on them and send you fleeing with your tail tucked so tight it¡¯s up your puckered anus.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that!¡± StoneMason shouted.

    ¡°That¡¯s a Dari. He¡¯s all bark and no bite.¡± Not like my dogs, who were apparently mostly bite and nearly no barking. Minus growling.

    His eyebrow lifted. ¡°Do we need to kill it before it explodes? What¡¯s it¡¯s race?¡±

    I¡¯d forgotten the exact race. We weren¡¯t friends anymore so all my insider knowledge had been removed. I struggled to recall details and ignore the gore pile. Something with a snake like hiss at the front that made zero sense.

    ¡°He¡¯s a shade pixie, thing!¡±

    StoneMason heard shouting.

    ¡°Holy magic!¡± he yelled immediately like I didn¡¯t know darkness creature¡¯s obvious weakness, or we weren¡¯t standing next to each other. Besides, Dari didn¡¯t pose much of a threat because Trap had him boxed in a corner.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give your mother something to pray about you baby faced piece of pig iron! I¡¯ll give you a beating so hard your crotch will turn to sand.¡±

    I tried not to laugh and put up both hands. ¡°Dari, you¡¯ve got to calm down.¡±

    ¡°Calm? Calm? There¡¯s no calm for me. Not until that saggy balled coward Friday pays,¡± and on he went, ranting about me this time.

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t like you.¡± StoneMason said.

    I almost responded before I realized that StoneMason could barely hear me. He might not even be able to hear Dari, but inferred his dislike based on the pixie¡¯s frantic hoping, cursing, and repetitive use of the word Friday.

    ¡°I said, he doesn¡¯t like you Friday!¡± StoneMason repeated.

    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± Dari pointed at me and his mouth dropped. The shouting stopped. A wing fluttered and Dari winced. His eyes watered briefly and then he spoke in a more subdued tone. ¡°Friday? Friday is it you?¡±

    My eyebrows lifted and both shoulders came up in a shrug.

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s me. How do you guys put it. Same soul, new body?¡±

    Trap stayed locked in place, ready to pounce.

    Dari¡¯s broken wings fluttered then fell. ¡°Voices above. You look like sun baked shit.¡±

    ¡°Probably,¡± I started to say, but Dari abruptly fell down and rolled on the ground, clawing at his neck. His arms grew thick like overripe sausages. Thick black veins popped to the surface of his skin then wiggled.

    ¡°Friday! Sun touched coward. Thief. We¡¯ll kill you. We¡¯ll kill you.¡± He cursed while flopping wildly around. ¡°We¡¯ll rip out your still beating heart and feast on your life¡¯s blood!¡±

    My eyes tightened. I knew what that meant without needing quest boxes to tell me. Dari had been possessed somehow by the creatures I¡¯d stolen from on an earlier character. I didn¡¯t know how to stop it. Fingers traced the rune for a regeneration spell.

    It might not be possible to even heal Dari, not with all my ranks. From what I vaguely remembered, he ignored most spells entirely.

    ¡°Cage!¡± Johnny shouted. Throwing something at StoneMason. It collided with him sending the giant back a few steps. He fumbled for a bit and managed to wrap his arms around birdcage a few feet tall.

    ¡°What¡¯s this!¡± the giant asked.

    I had a different concern. ¡°Where the heck did you come from?¡±

    Dari¡¯s body bulged unhealthily. The ground under him went from dark and nasty to downright foul and grey.

    Johnny shrugged then pointed at the cage. ¡°Been here the whole time. Disarming traps. For free might I add. That cage? Fifteen gold per day.¡±

    Where Johnny got the prison was beyond me, but it¡¯d was exactly what we needed to contain Dari without killing him. I scooped up the faerie. It was that easy. I¡¯d done it before, almost a year ago. His bloated body barely fit through the cage door. He cursed and clawed weakly at my fingers but I ignored the pain.

    StoneMason snapped it shut and Dari passed out like a candleflame being snuffed.

    The saddest thing about Dari is that he had nearly no ability to fight back. He¡¯d been the same way when we first met. His wings broken, his eyes cloudy. He probably couldn¡¯t entirely make out Trap but knew that a much larger monster had him pinned.

    The giant popped his jaw and rolled his head around. ¡°Now what?¡± StoneMason asked at a volume closer to normal.

    ¡°I need a drink.¡± My feet were already turning and staggering toward the player town.

    ¡°What about this guy?¡±

    ¡°Give it to Nem¡¯s autopilot. Tell her to keep it somewhere safe until I figure out what to do.¡±

    ¡°You sure?¡±

    ¡°Johnny?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get him some food. Maybe a nice holly wreath. I think I can get her autopilot to get some rejuvenation enchanted flowers going around the area, that should keep Dari¡¯s rot effect contained. My price is going up though.¡±

    ¡°Take the bounty hunters gear,¡± I offered.

    StoneMason looked hurt.

    ¡°Done,¡± Johnny said.

    I nodded. He could easily take care of it all and probably work with Nem¡¯s autopilot without an issue. His expertise at failure and dealing with traps surpassed the dogs and nearly anyone in the starter town, despite his trash character stats due to dying too much.

    He should be smart enough to put Dari somewhere underground, but with a torch or something. I made a tired note of it then tried to recall other details about my old companion. Whatever race Dari belonged to, they lived in a darker habitat. Not simply in light sources, but in terms of murkiness.

    StoneMason stared at my retreating form. ¡°There might be other ambushes.¡±

    ¡°Let them kill me,¡± I said with a wave.

    He shouted after me, ¡°If you¡¯re okay dying, why did you fight at all?¡±

    I said nothing and kept walking. Past one tree. Over the mess of dirt I¡¯d reshaped. My clothes were a soggy tattered mess and without a shirt the bar might not even let me in. StoneMason caught up, still carrying the unconscious Dari in his bulky cage.

    ¡°Friday?¡± StoneMason said slowly.

    ¡°He only fought because he didn¡¯t want the dogs to die,¡± Johnny offered. ¡°They¡¯re companions. Like that guy. Friday¡¯s got a weak spot for them.¡±

    Metal rattled. ¡°This guy?¡±

    ¡°Him,¡± Johnny agreed. ¡°There¡¯s an entire history there.¡±

    My eyes rolled. I¡¯d probably explained more than intended while inebriated one weekend and Johnny simply remembered it all. Being a babbling drunk came with unwanted side effects, like Johnny knowing too much about me.

    ¡°Dari,¡± I said.

    ¡°Bless you?¡± StoneMason snorted.

    I turned around briefly. StoneMason stood there, giant cage cradled against his bigger chest. Inside the small sprite lay, flopped against the thin bars. My shaking hand lifted to point at the dark winged creature. ¡°That¡¯s Dari. He¡¯s a friend. Don¡¯t hurt him.¡±

    They shared an awkward glance with his tall head tilted down to see the much shorter figure. Finally, Johnny asked, ¡°You going to be okay?¡±

    Both shoulders lifted. Okay was a stretch for anyone at this age. I¡¯d survive and move onward. I¡¯d pretend the fight didn¡¯t remind of being in combat. Or that Dari¡¯s twisted existence and the dogs nearly dying weren¡¯t all my fault. It was just a game. The drama didn¡¯t matter.

    Or, that¡¯s what I told myself.

    They left me to bind up the sprite in some hallow located in the grove. It should be safe enough. Dari on his own wasn¡¯t dangerous. His abilities coupled with anyone who even tried a little bit, those were scary. That¡¯s how I¡¯d gotten through that entire Friday character. Slinking around and ambushing red eyed monsters who were closer to nightmares than regular animals.

    I said nothing more until I reached the bar. Everything pulled at my shoulders until I felt like a bundle of knots. No, knot were probably less tense. Today had been up and down, and that bothered me. Being so close to a peaceful afternoon then that turning into a crud storm left me feeling dead inside.

    The bar had too many people in it. A stranger elbowed me, and my drink sloshed to one side. I stared at the mug as those it¡¯d betrayed me by letting any beer escape. Maybe it had. I punished the container by draining all the liquid inside and removed its purpose.

    ¡°So,¡± Rose said.

    My eyes blinked slower than they should have. They couldn¡¯t even blink at the same time. I kept trying while turning to find the young woman next to me. She had a drink of her own.

    ¡°So,¡± I echoed. ¡°Soooooo.¡± That word sounded funny to me.

    ¡°You locked up a faerie.¡±

    ¡°Pixie. Technically. Regular faeries come in all sizes. Pixies though. Hand sized. Like that movie from forever ago but loud mouthed.¡±

    The game saw fit to flash a [Knowledge] box up on my screen, which I knocked away. Getting validation about something I already knew was worthless.

    ¡°Because?¡±

    ¡°Because what?¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a history of poor decision making skills and it constantly catches up with me. Or, life throws lemons at my head and I¡¯ve been shit at dodging. That¡¯s what happens when your dad doesn¡¯t play catch with you.¡±

    ¡°Hey! Someone flag him down and get me a drink too.¡± Johnny waved a hand above the bar. There were too many people and the server had apparently been ignoring him.

    ¡°But bounty hunters?¡±

    ¡°From his time as the princesses boy toy,¡± Johnny added. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you all about it for a drink.¡±

    I almost remembered that first Friday. He¡¯d been a trader at an outpost. The princess had been this doe eyed stick of a girl that¡¯d snuck out of the castle. Though girl was rude since she was closer to twenty five and clearly confused by all the scruffy people around us.

    My successfully punished glass slid toward the bar tender. He swapped it out at high speeds and left Johnny dry. I eyed the new glass and wondered if it should be punished too. My eye pressed close to the lid, eying the frothy liquid. ¡°Those were the days. When it was just me, the princess, an open prairie sky. Nary a soul around. Only she wasn¡¯t a princess we were together.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a queen now,¡± Johnny corrected.

    ¡°Right. Queen of two kingdoms. Long may she live.¡± I lifted my glass in a mock toast and pretended that virtual man¡¯s death couldn¡¯t bother me. ¡°With my head on a pike to show her bouncing baby boy.¡±

    ¡°You mean your son. Friday¡¯s practically royalty. Of two kingdoms.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a father?¡±

    ¡°Sure. A shit father from a long line of shit fathers who¡¯ll never amount to a damn thing.¡±

    I ignored them and pressed my way out the door with my freshly filled cup. From there I wandered back to the grove and toward the battlefield we¡¯d left behind. No one else bothered me, or maybe they realized I wanted to be left the heck alone.

    There I sat in the woods staring at where the corpse had been. Sarge, the only one of my five dogs up for walking, had come with me. The earth still showed signs of being reformed into a mess of small walls. Ruined trees would take days or weeks of game time to recover. The ground stance with rot.

    I sat on a fallen log, pulled out the [Vile Dram] and infused my drink for an extra kick. Despite the desire to blur the world, I sipped slowly. Sarge stared blankly. He didn¡¯t seem to understand what the big fuss was about. None of the others had traveled out here with me. They were all resting after the battle.

    Sarge groaned and rolled against my leg.

    The day¡¯s events hit abruptly. We¡¯d killed people, ones that barely existed but knowing the twisted game their children would grow up hating me. All that, because a mistake from a prior incarnation of Friday had caught up once again.

    My mug held no warmth. The liquid inside didn¡¯t cool me on a hot day or provide an ounce of comfort. It simply sat empty and I couldn¡¯t feel a thing from the [Vile Dram].

    ¡°Dari,¡± I mumbled trying to remember his original name from so many months ago. Eventually it registered. ¡°Dari the Forgotten.¡±

    And I had a son. Even money was on him growing up to be a shit father too. It¡¯d be just like this damn game to let the real-world curse follow me here.

 Session 16 â€“ Gone Baby, Gone

    The rest of my weekend became a bit of a blur after that. I healed a bunch of people, stockpiled food for the dogs and my captive, and wondered if it was getting close to retirement time for Friday the 13<sup>th</sup>. Two of my prior characters had caught up with me. There¡¯d be stragglers from the other forces as well, though based on what happened with my last character there shouldn¡¯t be many people left that cared.

    I hoped the priests were alright. The warriors from the northern tribe had been a dull but hardworking group. They¡¯d loved my carvings and even smiled sometimes.

    I¡¯d managed a few peaceful weekends on this character and almost felt attached. Being a [Druid] was kind of fun. It came with solitude when I wanted it. Companions in dogs who¡¯s only concerns were chasing [Coo-Coo Rill]s and the next meal. Nem was nice to look at and Rose liked stabbing monsters. I didn¡¯t even have to struggle in a life and death manner against monsters.

    That was what I wanted, when I needed it. Being valued because I could heal people. I loved that. It made me feel like logging in every weekend had more value than simply drowning out the day job and whichever person was bleeding out when I arrived on the scene. None of those people looked at me with a happy expression. They were in real life pain and demanded I solve it, and I could only dole out what the machinery deemed necessary based on readings.

    Keeping that feeling of being valuable, while not dealing with the drama might be hard. I survived work for the week and got ready to log back in the following Friday. It was time to deal with Dari. Or at least see if he could be redeemed.

    ¡°Why now?¡± Johnny asked.

    We¡¯d met at the edge of the forest. The trees were taller than I remembered and the shady areas were a bit darker than before. Either sunlight had a harder time piercing through, or Dari¡¯s presence in the grove came with side effects.

    ¡°Why now, what?¡± I responded slowly.

    The changes bothered me.

    ¡°Why turn around and give a shit now? You¡¯ve made it almost a religion to drop characters as soon as anything from the prior Friday shows up.¡±

    ¡°Explanations are ten gold,¡± I said dryly.

    Johnny didn¡¯t take me up on my offer. Were he truly prying he would have mentioned how he brought the cage, disarmed traps, and helped take care of the pack of monstrous puppies in my absence. Johnny didn¡¯t. He let me stand there outside a cave someone had found in contemplative silence. Sometimes I couldn¡¯t tell if his money grubbing was a game or serious because he¡¯d always given me space.

    I liked that. It gave me time to think. Or at least, gave me time to take in the true breadth of what had happened during my absence.

    My grove¡¯s trees weren¡¯t the only item that changed during the week. This hallow of sorts house Dari in his metal cage. It was almost a cave that had large mushrooms and moss stringing across the partially dug out ceiling. Only a small haze of sunlight poked through, making me wonder where this cave had been hiding the entire time. It certainly hadn¡¯t been here last weekend.

    It wasn¡¯t the same as the burrow that the dog¡¯s used. Theirs was stockier, fortified, and lined with furs that someone had brought in. Thankfully either Nemesis or the dogs somehow prevented the place from becoming infested with flees. It might have been the grove¡¯s magic, which hadn¡¯t gotten any weaker according to my popup messages.

    If anything, with the addition of Dari¡¯s barrow, it had gained ranks. There were text popups about the balance of nature and everything having two sides. It all went over my head and I¡¯d shoved the boxes aside. Being a druid was confusing as heck. If I gave in and read all the boxes, the stupid game would probably start preaching at me and dealing with [Nature Versus Nurture] was annoying enough.

    Then there was the mud alter. It sat in the heart of the [Druid Grove] and had to be the least impressive part of the entire place. From road to river there were tall inspiring trees that had seemingly sprouted overnight. Enough scenic locations to fill a guide book. Then my lumpy little alter. The only improvement to my original drunken art were vines with large leaves and purple flowers woven across the top.

    Without an inspection skill I didn¡¯t know what it meant. Sure the game gave me all sorts of messages about my own spells and abilities, or increases to skill, but figuring out what actual items did was harder without the ability.

    ¡°I need an inspection ability,¡± I said suddenly.

    Johnny threw his hands up. The shadows from his movement sent shadow¡¯s dancing along the barely illuminated wall. ¡°How do you play without one?¡±

    ¡°Badly?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re insane.¡±

    Not disagreeing, I nodded then stepped into Dari¡¯s prison.

    Twenty feet into the rear of the dugout sat Dari¡¯s cage. He huddled into a ball with his knees pressed tight to his chest. The wings were frayed at the edges. They looked a bit worse than they had last week. Dull sour air overpowered everything else. I understood now, why the dogs had refused to come with me. Even Sarge chose to sit in his den with the other four and mope.

    I got the feeling they were still recovering or weren¡¯t sure what to make of Dari. [Animal Understanding] didn¡¯t make it exactly clear, but it might have been a sort of jealousy. Like somehow my former companion showing up might cause them to be treated worse, or at least cost them food.

    ¡°You sure about this?¡± Johnny asked. ¡°That¡¯s what you want to do right, fix him?¡±

    ¡°Maybe. At the least I should try to undo the damage. We spent weeks together and Dari helped me out when he didn¡¯t need to. We even stole that stupid stone and escaped. If I¡¯d stayed behind and let him get ahead, then all it would have cost me was a death or some other event. I could have started over.¡±

    ¡°Oh. That makes sense.¡± Johnny¡¯s blissful smile and twiddling thumbs told me I didn¡¯t make a lick of sense.

    ¡°It¡¯s a game to us, but we come back. I didn¡¯t have that in my brain then. It¡¯s why I almost let myself die to get the dogs away last weekend.¡±

    The tiny figure in the cage moved. He stood up, grabbing the bars with hands that couldn¡¯t even reach around the metal. Tired black and blue eyes

    ¡°Friday?¡± The voice was light and scratchy. Dry throat. Weak muscles. Barely breathing. I turned off the part of my brain figuring out which healing spell would be best to cure all those items to listen to focus on his next words. ¡°Listen to you talk about self-sacrifice like some priestly ponce. You¡¯ve changed. You¡¯re different.¡±

    ¡°Technically I am a priest. Became one after we were together. And a few other things,¡± I said with a faint smile. ¡°But you, you¡¯re almost the same. Your wings look worse, and that scratchiness, is that a side effect of the possession being halted?¡±

    He laughed weakly then frowned. His frown turned to a scowl as a shadow passed over his face. The faeries wings shook violently, rattling against the metal bars. I stared, and realized it wasn¡¯t the wings that had made that noise. They were too tiny and broken to reach the back end of the cave. Shadows danced like giant wings behind him.

    ¡°Yes. Cold iron was a good idea. It mutes them, a little. You¡¯re not as stupid as before.¡±

    ¡°Nah. I¡¯m still a worthless idiot. I just happened take time to reflect on our adventures. Plus monsters tried to kill my other incarnations since then.¡±

    Incarnations was the easiest word for Locals to understand my restarting characters.

    Dari¡¯s former enslavers were lords of that dark forest. They didn¡¯t have bodies of their own and possessed other creatures. Those they took over would double or triple in size, get angry and black veins everywhere. They¡¯d murder anything nearby. Luckily, they were also stupid and tended to attack each other, if there was more than one.

    ¡°They¡¯ll kill you, you know that right?¡±

    I nodded. Since I¡¯d stolen that river rock, the one used to make my [Vile Dram], they¡¯d never stop chasing my characters. I¡¯d believed having a druid grove somehow protected me but that might not be true. One day I¡¯d have to sit down and iron out all these stupid game notices and see if I actually stood a chance.

    ¡°They claw and tear at me even now.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re half a planet away and their power fades with distance. You told me that yourself.¡± That was part of why I picked this town as a starter location when it came up. That and players were nicer when it came to cranking out drinks.

    ¡°Weak minds are everywhere, Friday.¡±

    Dari smiled. His cheeks stretched until his face cracked at the middle. He laughed at flames danced down his tiny throat. My head swam. Both feet dug in and the small room spun. All that existed was Dari and his unnatural grin. Johnny stumbled toward the cage, hands stretched out.

    ¡°Shiny,¡± he mumbled.

    I swallowed a lump, reminded myself this was a stupid game no matter how much I wanted to help Dari, and grabbed at Johnny¡¯s collar before he could open the cage.

    The short man slipped away. Something on his neck made it impossible to get a firm grip. He didn¡¯t run but continued to stumble toward Dari¡¯s cage with his hands out, reaching.

    ¡°Johnny, no.¡±

    ¡°So much gold. All the gold I¡¯d ever need.¡±

    He sounded so happy about his imaginary riches. I held off on zapping him with a lightning bolt.

    ¡°Johnny. No. Bad Johnny.¡±

    He didn¡¯t listen. I pulled out my staff to bonk him on the head. Johnny crumpled and jerked the weapon out of my hands. I cursed, blaming the slipperiness that had greased my fingers.

    Johnny hheld upt he weapon and insepected the jeweled end. ¡°Hey, this is worth a fortune. If you give it to me, I can invest it and make us two fortunes. No risk involved.¡±

    I blinked slowly. Dari¡¯s enticement wasn¡¯t pulling at him anymore. Johnny had gone to autopilot.

    My hands fluttered. ¡°Quick! There¡¯s even more gold outside! And if you give me my staff, it¡¯ll open up a secret pit near the river full of treasure.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Really,¡± I lied slightly unhappy. Not at lying to the autopilot. That part didn¡¯t bother me, so much as him vanishing suddenly. There were only a few reasons Johnny would ever drop offline in the middle of an event.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    I¡¯d have to talk to him about it later. Johnny gave me my staff and hustled out of the grotto.

    That left me to deal with Dari, alone.

    I stared at the tiny creature and frowned. Dari¡¯s eyes still glowed, a mixture between blue and milky white. ¡°Ah. His soul has fled like the coward he is. Pathetic.¡±

    The sprite had a mean streak. Or maybe the creatures that possessed him did. Despite his vocal attitude, Dari¡¯s action had led me to a different expectation. Maybe I¡¯d have to reevaluate it.

    ¡°Are all your friends so flawed?¡±

    ¡°Only the good ones.¡± My chest heaved with a sigh. It didn¡¯t help me. A drink would have but I needed to figure out Dari¡¯s nonsense before trying to forget the week. It helped that work had been semi-quiet with no one dying on me.

    Dari continued to stare with his eyes barely dimmed in their glow. I still frowned. His eyes had been much the same when we first met. Two eyes that peered out at me from the darkness of a cave, much like this one. Dari had been caged there too.

    A rustling sound like wings fluttering filled the air. The cave¡¯s walls lit up as green slipped across the walls pushing back the darkness. I turned to marvel at the latest light show, wondering what rank a path needed to be to get those effects.

    Nem stepped out of a wall so fast I didn¡¯t have time to panic. I pointed at the wall then at her. She crossed her arms and glared at me.

    ¡°It¡¯s about time you showed up. Who the hell is this?¡± Nemesis asked. ¡°First I get a weird event notice and come down here. Then he lured me over looking sadder than a wet puppy, and spit at me. Spit!¡±

    ¡°This,¡± I stopped even trying to explain and scratched my head. Obviously, Nemesis would have found him. She¡¯d been here off and, on all week, and there was no possibly way to lock up a faerie in the heart of my grove without her noticing. Plus Rose would have told her.

    Dari¡¯s dry wicked laugh filled the small cavern. ¡°I¡¯m one of Friday¡¯s former companions. You should run now, before he ruins you too.¡± I scowled at his words. ¡°Look at how I turned out. That dimwitted dirt farmer isn¡¯t work it.¡±

    ¡°Fat chance he could make my life worse. Besides, I could always just hang him up by his feet and flick him in the balls.¡±

    Dari¡¯s eyes went wide.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t be the first woman to do that to me.¡± Being tied up was foreplay to some girls. It stood to reason that in a video game world, where people could be extra crazy, then warmups would be way more intense.

    ¡°You lot are crazy,¡± Dari said slowly.

    ¡°Travelers, right?¡± I shrugged. ¡°Being tied up by wines is nothing. I once launched myself into space with tin foil and rubber bands.¡± It¡¯d been extremely complicated and was basically a series of slingshots that slung more slingshots and involved about forty deaths. Also it wasn¡¯t tin foil but it felt the same.

    ¡°I¡¯ll bet you missed,¡± she said with a faint smile.

    ¡°Not really. I got into space plenty of times. Though it might not count, since I started on a space station.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve traveled far,¡± Dari whispered.

    We looked over. Dari shook in a way that made him seem pitiful. The dark shadows that resembled illusionary wings curled along the back end of his cave. I stared, waiting for a hint of that flame filled gullet of his that had been so enchanting, but he didn¡¯t try it again.

    After a pause and Nem¡¯s glare returning my direction, I clarified. ¡°Dari¡¯s from Friday the second.¡±

    ¡°And the space adventure?¡±

    ¡°Uhhh,¡± my eyes rolled briefly. ¡°Eight? No, nine.¡±

    ¡°That many? Rose said you¡¯d rerolled a lot and told me that tree trying to break in came from one of your past characters.¡±

    ¡°It what?¡±

    The faerie snickered. ¡°Foolish. Did you really think no one else could find you? All of us attuned to your lives will arrive, sooner or later. There¡¯s no escape, in this world or the next!¡±

    ¡°Drat,¡± I said as her meaning registered. The tree I¡¯d been ignoring at [Widow¡¯s Children] must have tried to migrate over here, to follow me.

    ¡°It¡¯s an ugly tree. Like your face is.¡±

    I put both my hands over my heart and pretended to be wounded by the insult. My own face was mostly a mystery to me aside from a hazy water reflection. Now that she¡¯d reminded me, maybe the princess¡¯s curse was how that bounty hunter found me. It might have also been Dari but I assumed the bounty hunter knew to look for a really ugly man.

    After that revelation registered, I shrugged at Nem. ¡°Yeah. This face is a leftover curse from the first Friday.¡± My eyes rolled briefly as it dawned upon me how stupid all these past problems were. ¡°And the tree is from another Friday. I sort of spent a few days in game carving faces into it.¡±

    ¡°Sort of?¡±

    ¡°Kind of? I was having a rough weekend, the game gave me an event about channeling my anger into artwork. I got drunk, figured I¡¯d self destruct or something, and woke up to that tree, carved with lots of faces.¡±

    Nem¡¯s eyebrows lifted, ¡°Faces?¡±

    That tone sounded all too familiar. It was the one women used on me when I¡¯d done something incredibly stupid then tried to explain it away and sounded even dumber. Which wasn¡¯t far from the truth. I looked everywhere but at Nemesis.

    ¡°Who are the faces of?¡±

    My response was deliberately inaudible.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Nem said while blinking slowly.

    I hated this game at times. Not the world but the other people in it. They often had skills like [Annoying], [Persistent], or [Nearly Naked and Convincing]. It seemed easier to simply cave in to her questions, answer with the truth and let her walk away like every other woman did. Especially after they found out I didn¡¯t want children, theirs or my own.

    ¡°My league of evil exs,¡± I said flatly.

    Dari¡¯s sudden laugh drowned out whatever Nem had been about to respond that.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s worse than that. That tree personifies the spirits of every women he¡¯s ever wronged.¡±

    ¡°So, I shouldn¡¯t sleep with him,¡± Nem said while pointing at me.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked.

    Dari resumed laughing. His darkness infused shadow solidified upon the wall and chuckled as well. A dark fire inside its mouth served as a signal that those forest lords from Friday the 2<sup>nd</sup>¡¯s journey were also amused at my confusion.

    ¡°No worries on that front. I have zero interest in a digital relationship. I need something a bit more real.¡±

    My mouth hung open but no suitable reply came out. She had a point, and I¡¯d been reminding myself of much the same issue. Relationships in reality were better than whatever this game might throw at me. Though I¡¯d been willing to at least buy her a drink or ten whenever my healing earned me enough to do so.

    Come to think of it, real life was often the same. I¡¯d met my last few girlfriends out and about and paid for what I could out of the work wages. Then those went south.

    My head shook.

    ¡°Well. It¡¯s your grove I guess. I¡¯m just renting space. Do what you want with the little guy, but if you need help, ask, okay? Nothing worse than a guy who bottles all his shit up then goes crazy.¡± Nem waved a finger as she went back to the wall she¡¯d appeared out of. ¡°And no carving on any trees around here!¡±

    Then she vanished, and the green illumination in the small semi-cave went with her.

    That left me and Dari. I couldn¡¯t sort out what to do next. I¡¯d been putting off dealing with the [Tree of Woe] at [Widow¡¯s Children] because it was annoying. That annoyance followed me to my little refuge from reality.

    ¡°What do you think, Dari?¡±

    The pixie smiled twice. One with his real mouth, displaying the pit of fire smoldering inside and once again with the shadow upon the wall behind him.

    ¡°Do something or run like a coward. Those are always the choices.¡±

    I threw my hands up.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to do something! I want to sit and simply not be. You may not understand, but I go through horrible shit all week. All week! Fuck,¡± the word escape and I winced, ¡°I was having a good day for once. A good day Dari! Then you and that stupid bounty hunter.¡±

    ¡°Which all stem from your own faults. You chose to abandon me. You chose to bed that lass. You choose to live whatever life you live out in the other world. Blame not me or the others for your poor wits.¡±

    I puckered my lips and fought back a sudden shaking feeling that made my arms hurt.

    ¡°See? Even if you¡¯re mind refuses to see the truth, your body knows it and fights you. Coward. Simpleton. Poor piss faced witless monkey, you¡¯ve shirked your responsibilities under the guise of-¡± whatever he said was lost as I stormed outside.

    There I stood, trying not to shake. That might not have been Dari himself speaking. It might have been those stupid creatures trying to possess him. How they had time to track down one player among millions was beyond me. Apparently Continue Online didn¡¯t think that sheer population should slow down any of it¡¯s evil overlords from harassing poor liquor seeking players like myself.

    Johnny sat on a rock outside with his hands clasped together. He took slow deep breathes and stared at his hair toes. He hadn¡¯t fared too well in there either.

    Nem hadn¡¯t gone too far and stood next to him, talking softly. Johnny nodded quickly then shook his head back and forth. I stepped closer slowly and listened to their conversation.

    ¡°Creepy little thing,¡± Johnny said. ¡°Can¡¯t believe it made me do that. Hate mind control effects. Hate them so much. It was like I couldn¡¯t see anything but his face, then that faded away to become gold. Just nothing but all that money and I thought of all the things I could do with it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s how the game works. Rose told me all about how it¡¯s meant to,¡± she cut off as Johnny¡¯s head snapped in my direction. He put on a fake smile.

    ¡°Hey. You made it out.¡±

    My hands were still shaking, and chest felt tight. My breath came in short shallow near gasps. Now they were both watching me, and their eyes were so damn expectant. It felt like being back in work, as someone looked at me like I might have all the damn answers.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± That was it. That was my glorious response.

    ¡°He got you riled up, didn¡¯t he? With that talk about having a kid?¡±

    I¡¯d already told her too damn much but felt like it didn¡¯t matter anymore. Hiding stuff took too much work. I¡¯d have to remember who knew what or which person cared about the other topic.

    ¡°In game. With a princess. Or so I¡¯m told.¡±

    ¡°Queen,¡± Johnny corrected for the umpteenth time. He smiled a bit more naturally so I counted it as a win, but still my eyes fluttered.

    I flopped down next to Johnny.

    ¡°I have no idea if it¡¯s really my kid. It¡¯s a kid in the game so that¡¯s even weirder. I swore of any relationships with Local¡¯s after that because it¡¯s just bizarre they¡¯d even get pregnant to begin with. I mean, how does that work?¡±

    ¡°Badly,¡± Johnny said.

    Nem¡¯s lips quivered. My eyes narrowed. She burst out laughing. ¡°Nah. It¡¯s not possible to have kids with the Locals. I¡¯ve checked. She¡¯s lying to you. That pixie creature probably knows too and is using it to mess with you. That¡¯s how the game works, or that¡¯s what I was about to tell Johnny. Everything here pushes your buttons.¡±

    My heartbeat skipped. The game had done exactly that again and again, and now Nemesis was confirming it. ¡°What do you mean it can¡¯t be my kid?¡± I¡¯d been operating under that assumption for multiple lives and if that princess, or queen, was a liar than I simply needed to prove it.

    ¡°Ask Rose. Can¡¯t be done. Travelers don¡¯t get kids. You were right, there¡¯d be so much drama involved. Can you imagine raising a your child in a world like that, that will grow old and die before you? What a mess,¡± she laughed softly while waving. ¡°Anyway, my shift¡¯s over. Rose will be on soon and I¡¯ve got to watch my grandson.¡±

    My jaw dropped from utter confusion as Nem¡¯s form faded to a slightly washed out version of her normal green luster. The autopilot winked at me, then sprinted off into the woods.

    Johnny¡¯s head slowly moved back and forth between me, where Nem vanished, and Dari¡¯s little temporary jail.

    ¡°That¡¯s fucked up,¡± Johnny said for me.

    I nodded slowly while feeling utterly confused.

    ¡°What¡¯s that mean?¡±

    ¡°Dunno, but for ten gold I¡¯ll go find out. Or maybe we can sell it to a bounty hunter and see if they turn the kingdom upside down. Wouldn¡¯t that be a riot. Do you think we could get lots of money if we turn the kingdom upside down?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s always a profit in war,¡± I said dryly.

    Johnny soured at that statement. Apparently the queen had outted me as the father. If what Nem said was also true, I wasn¡¯t the dad and she was using me as a scape goat for the real one. Which made my skin crawl.

    I sighed heavily. After some time to breathe, I realized Dari had been right. It was time to do something about the entire mess. One hand went out toward Johnny in grabbing gesture.

    ¡°Give me whatever rings you¡¯ve picked up. Then I can take them to the butler or widow or whatever and see if that does something.¡±

    Johnny pulled out of his bag from player inventory, which always threw me off since he was essentially pulling a bottomless bag out of an invisible bag.

    ¡°What about that tree of woe? Or the bounty hunters? There¡¯ll be more now. There¡¯s always more.¡±

    I shrugged.

    ¡°One thing at a time. If I go out there, then they won¡¯t come here. The dogs can help me in spirit rather than risk their real bodies. Maybe the others can come too, Rose seems down to stab stuff.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a nice kid,¡± Johnny said. Out came dozens of rings. He put them into my cupped hands.

    My head bobbed as Johnny piled another handful onto the first.

    ¡°Lots of these things. Not sure which ones are which, might be some fakes. I haven¡¯t figured it all out yet. They don¡¯t respond to any of my skills and seem to be pretty dull.¡±

    I made him stop piling on the rings and put them away. Most of my player inventory had been taken up by the [Staff of Thaddeus], [Vile Dram], and a few dozen [Promise Ring]s. Johnny gave me more until I had to put some in my actual pockets instead of storing them safely away.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m going to take a break for today. My heart¡¯s not in it.¡±

    After his earlier panic attack, Johnny probably needed some time in reality.

    ¡°Thanks for the rings.¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡±

    Johnny faded to autopilot. Then that character smiled dumbly at me then waved, heading off toward town.

    I pulled out one of the rings and tried to remember the last time I¡¯d even see or used a promise ring. It¡¯d been ages ago, back in high school. Maybe junior high. They were an antiquated idea, being a poor man¡¯s version of the engagement ring.

    ¡°Huh.¡± Rose or StoneMason might have used them at one point. They were closer to that age than I, by a mile.

    That brought me back around to what Nemsis had said earlier. This game pressed my buttons in a way little else did, despite my desire to drink away any serious thinking.

    My brain had been hung up on one person. Not just Nemesis being a dryad or whatever race she played as while being a [Gardener] or [Eco Warrior] or [Dog Herder], not that those last ones were her actual class since I didn¡¯t know, but StoneMason¡¯s path I knew. What were the chances that I¡¯d run into a decently high rank female dryad player? Much less her daughter first?

    Those chances were slim enough but possible once I factored in the game¡¯s desire to make everyone fit together. StoneMason just happened to be a friendly giant, brought to me by Johnny with Rose and thusly her mother, and his class also grew from using natural resources.

    I needed to get heavily drunk then go see what had become of my [Tree of Woe] and [Widow¡¯s Children].

 Session 17 â€“ 99 Problems

    I blinked slowly. The drinks I¡¯d powered through in preparation for dealing with this tree, undead, and blocking my own woes were clearly screwing up my brain. My goals for the weekend were halfway achieved.

    Rose and StoneMason stood with me at the gateway to [Widow¡¯s Children]. The high broke wall remained unchanged by our weeks of absence. Chairs outside were still ragged and sad. Their sprawling field leading to the house had all the hallmarks of being I wondered, as I often did when playing this game, if there would be any point to trying to fix things.

    One way or another, something new would crop up and be wrong. Then players would race to the rescue. That¡¯s how all the games of my childhood had been. It felt, repetitive. I honestly believed that even if I told the princess, queen, or whatever off, some new event would come along and harass me.

    It stood to reason that the same would happen with the [Tree of Woe]. I based that on a dozen characters of experience. If I chopped it down or carved smily faces onto it instead of those angry scowls, another problem would come along and fill the void.

    ¡°Maybe I just play this game all wrong,¡± I said.

    Rose paused sharpening her two blades against each other and dropped both arms slowly. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I just don¡¯t see the thrill in constantly having new problems shoved in my face. The day job¡¯s bad enough. But doing it in a game too?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no wrong way to play. That¡¯s the point.¡±

    That didn¡¯t line up with my world views. Or at least, not my mopey perspective in the wake of prior lives resurfacing. ¡°Sure there is. I mean, there must be, or why would I be dealing with all this unresolved stuff from prior characters?¡±

    ¡°Probably because you have a lot of unresolved stuff from prior characters,¡± Rose quipped.

    StoneMason snorted.

    I had to defend myself. ¡°That¡¯s just it. I don¡¯t want to, and I can¡¯t be the only one. Don¡¯t you have something left over from your prior character? Tell me you didn¡¯t start over for a reason.¡±

    Rose¡¯s lips tightened then shifted as she chewed her bottom lip. StoneMason¡¯s eyebrow went up as he watched her face.

    ¡°Maybe we should focus on getting in.¡± That offer was my poor attempt at making the peace. Rose clearly wasn¡¯t here to relax. She wanted to murder monsters to relieve stress. ¡°Kill a few things, then you two can talk about the meaning of life later.¡±

    ¡°You started it,¡± StoneMason muttered in my direction.

    I shrugged. He may be right but admitting it to a near-kid didn¡¯t appeal to me. It¡¯d been one of the many thoughts that escaped my brain, which Continue Online and the silly virtual reality device helped make possible. The barest hint of a thought or question typically spilled out faster than anyone sane might like.

    ¡°Kill monsters,¡± I shouted happily. ¡°Life will be right in the world if Rose gets to murder hapless undead who may or may not be under a curse.¡±

    She pointed both knives in my direction awkwardly. ¡°And other things.¡± I almost reached out and slightly corrected them to make the whole scene more threatening but felt afraid she might cut me. As it was, they wavered uneasily and didn¡¯t make a clear point.

    ¡°You¡¯re angry a lot.¡± He pulled out a much slimmer looking tree that had nearly been whittled away to be a real bo staff.

    ¡°Please. Yes. With the murder. Let¡¯s go do that.¡± Rose¡¯s broken speech either moked StoneMason or meant she was that eager to get on with it.

    ¡°I finished that wall,¡± StoneMason mumbled.

    ¡°Don¡¯t care! We¡¯re here to fight undead monsters and right wrongs. Or get loot.¡± She turned away from us to study the field. ¡°You¡¯re healing again?¡± Rose asked.

    My head bobbed before it occurred to me that she couldn¡¯t see me nodding. ¡°Like a champion. A doctor of healing buttons.¡±

    ¡°The game doesn¡¯t use buttons.¡±

    ¡°It should. I could pretend I was at a record table scratching out a wicked mix as I caused musical magic to heal people.¡±

    StoneMason leaned over slowly and failed to whisper, ¡°What is he talking. About?¡±

    At some point, their words ceased to make sense. Probably right after my brain wandered off into a tangent about this stupid dungeon and all the undead around. Maybe if I dug a hole down far enough, I¡¯d find some secret center to all this filth and could punch it. Or cure it with spells. Maybe I could wrap holy magic around my fists and punch people to get a [Monk Druid Ninja] class.

    The [Ninja] part would come from my [Shadow] and [Stealth] traits stacking on top of each other.

    ¡°Friday!¡± Rose shouted.

    My eyelids fluttered briefly. They¡¯d walked into the manner¡¯s grounds and were a few feet away from fighting some huge mole rat creatures.  Rodents all looked the same to me. I pulled out my staff and stopped to polish the end because it wasn¡¯t shiny enough. That made me giggle, then frown since it¡¯d been forever since I¡¯d been with a real woman.

    The last relationship ended up in an evil tree that probably murdered players. That almost sounded cool, since my bad breakup causing other players to be removed from the game for a day fed some need for shared misery. I should have a title like [Father of Woe].

    ¡°Friday!¡± Rose repeated.

    ¡°Right. Healing.¡± I traced out spells and tossed them at Rose, who was busy trying figure out how to hit the shorter creature. The mole monsters were flat to the ground, too low for StoneMason¡¯s spinning club attacks.

    ¡°Feet.¡± I stomped back and forth. He didn¡¯t hear me because they were loud as heck and too far away. My new healing spells were able to reach far enough but performed worse than the original [Branch of Healing]. ¡°Ninja¡¯s use feet!¡±

    No one paid attention to me. I grumbled to myself and wondered what else I¡¯d been forgetting to do. Bringing the dogs in might be possible but they could use some time off. Sarge had been entirely too willing to fight and part of me worried that he didn¡¯t know how to do anything else.

    Raising digital pets was a new skill and I¡¯d been failing badly at it by letting the dogs do what they wanted. I hadn¡¯t answered the whole nature versus nurture conundrum and couldn¡¯t reason my way through the darn problem while a few drinks under. My mind simply didn¡¯t work that way.

    ¡°Friday. Jesus man, get it together.¡± StoneMason yelled.

    ¡°Get what together?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re our healer,¡± he shouted.

    I waved my free hand. ¡°And you¡¯re not dead.¡±

    His health looked close to empty but a [Burst of Light] spell from my [Priest] path took care of it. Maybe he expected me to do something to shield him from those rabid wombat monsters. We weren¡¯t in a full-on group of people. There were only us three and if they¡¯d played a bit smarter then no one would need a heal at all.

    Every path I¡¯d wandered along eventually received ¡°oh shit¡± options to reduce damage taken for a bit. Even at my lower ranks. They should have something too. Honestly, I should have left them behind and snuck into the manner. It probably would have been easier.

    They finished off the monsters. Rose dug through for loot. Our tank, if he could be called that, looked for more monsters to fight, and pointed.

    ¡°There¡¯s the next group. You ready?¡± StoneMason asked.

    Now that I¡¯d really thought about it, never once in this game had I picked up any sort of real identification skill. Maybe it was because machines telling me what things were pissed me off. My day job certainly came with enough of that. Having everything handed to me in the game would be annoying as well.

    ¡°What¡¯s that, a rock?¡± I asked myself. The response had nothing to do with StoneMason¡¯s question but my brain couldn¡¯t wrap itself around the ugly stones out in the courtyard. They hadn¡¯t been there last weekend. It was like something huge had uprooted half the yard and torn up the filthy grass in all directions.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡± StoneMason repeated.

    ¡°Ready for what?¡± I responded.

    He waved a large meaty hand. ¡°More monsters? Your mana?¡±

    ¡°Mana is an abstract concept to measure how deep the swamp is.¡± The bar was fine. I could keep healing at this rate forever. They were lower ranks and one of my regular heals had enough power stacked on it to keep us all flooded to the gills with regeneration.

    ¡°What?¡± StoneMason asked.

    I laughed. ¡°No, I¡¯m ready. Keep on fighting the good fight. Tire yourself out. Make a mess, find a boss. Get a hand lamp or something.¡± A shoulder lifted. ¡°It doesn¡¯t really matter, I guess. When you¡¯re done goofing around, I¡¯ll go find the butler.¡± With or without them, the dogs, or anyone else. I felt fairly certain that he¡¯d show up in short order if I broke a teacup or moved a curtain out of place.

    We killed more. Or they fought and I healed. No maids or zombies, yet. The courtyard up to the manner had far too many critters lined up. Our next foes were giant killer bees whose buzzes murdered my eardrums. They flew at us through withered trees in groups.

    Rose threw rocks at their wings. StoneMason waved his stick at them and it did nothing. He might be trying to learn some super move or just not know how to get the flying creatures down to our level. After a moment of drunken consideration, I realized a [Tiny Lightning Bolt] would be perfect.

    I marked out the rune then threw it lightly toward the bees. It whiffed but their attention turned toward me. They zoomed in my direction.

    ¡°I miss crumpling paper.¡±

    ¡°Friday!¡± Rose shouted.

    Repetitive motion. Tracking out the lightning bolt spell reminded me of crumpling paper then tossing it into waist baskets during boot camp. I lobbed another spell toward the pack of bees headed my way. The third paper ball lightning hit a bee. It veered into friends as electricity crackled along it¡¯s body. Down went two more. Rose¡¯s rocks hit another.

    StoneMason ran over them, bare toes squishing into bee guts and stingers. He ignored grossness and pain in his urgency to get to me. I stared at him with my staff limp to one side. His mouth was wide and he shouted something that didn¡¯t register.

    He must think the bees were going to tear me limb from limb.

    My head shook slowly. ¡°Why,¡± then StoneMason¡¯s large arm lifted me up and spun around in a million circles. The impact pushed air from chest. I gasped as the world continued to twist around us. The horizon went up and down then he plopped me onto the ground.

    ¡°Keep your head down Mills!¡±

    A voice not belonging to my party struck from nowhere. StoneMason¡¯s actual words were lost as blood rushed into my ears. I fumbled for a healing spell but kept spinning. An arm gave out. I felt sick to my stomach and pissed at myself for being that weak.

    ¡°They¡¯re firing again,¡± the stranger¡¯s voice said. His words faded as gunfire hit. I closed my eyes and pretended that none of it was happening. None of it was, the game¡¯s interface with my mind had spawned a memory.

    Fingers pressed against my neck. I counted. The result, too high for comfort. I took a deep breath, traced a healing spell with my free hand, and counted again. My heartrate lowered steadily.

    It didn¡¯t help that StoneMason had picked me up then performed that death spiral circle of his. That dizziness coupled with a sudden crack of noise set me back. Months without real relapse, gone. Getting older sucked.

    StoneMason fought with the foolhardy zealousness only a kid who thought this was a game would manage. Rose stabbed. I rolled over then pushed myself up to my feet. They wobbled. I took a few more breathes and ignored the fighting.

    It didn¡¯t matter. Pain wasn¡¯t an issue. I could heal in here from anything. No one in this part would die for real. It wasn¡¯t like back then or my day job. I nodded twice then lifted my staff and pointed it at the other two. It¡¯d been a while, but I remembered how mid rank [Priest] path¡¯s used the staff to heal. It wasn¡¯t a matter of waving our arms and light flowing, not entirely. Not prayers or whispered reverences.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    [Priest]s in Continue Online weren¡¯t channeling higher powers. They could commune with Voices, sure, but what they pulled on were closer to elemental planes that mages used. Threads of shadows and light that every creature in the game reacted to differently.

    There wasn¡¯t time for the entire lesson to play through my head. I wanted the bees to stop and to heal my group. I traced out a healing spell onto the staff¡¯s surface. It flowed up the tip toward the gem, where green light swelled. Silver and gold swirled into the light green until the whole mess popped.

    My mana dropped rapidly down to half, which was the biggest hit it¡¯d taken since my legacy paths and ranks caught up with me. This spell had a high cooldown too. It¡¯d take another ten or so minutes before it could be used again.

    The filthy bees melted and recovered in equal measure. Those that were healing turned into harmless bugs that fluttered back into trees. Those trees glowed with energy as they recovered. The gloom that hung over this area pushed back as the lightshow spiraled around us.

    StoneMason stared at me with his large baby jaw hanging loosely. He seemed confused. I took a few more deep breathes and checked my heat beat again. It continued to return to a resting speed. He still stared and I got annoyed with all the laser eyes people were using. Everyone watched me like I might do tricks if they looked away for even a second.

    I had, but they didn¡¯t need to stare.

    ¡°It¡¯s a technique. Kind of light warriors getting smash attacks. Priests get a busting radiance that applies holy magic to the spell based on our rank. If I throw in a druid nature spells, it¡¯ll pop out doing both nature healing, with a holy aura, and that melts undead.¡±

    I¡¯d actually read through a few of my skills in the last day and mixed them poorly. They didn¡¯t know that, and my babbled explanation drifted off. My gaze listed with the fading words and focused on nothing at all as my brain tried to connect the dots. There I stood, staring at the dead critters. My thoughts had clicked off at some point, or disconnected. Then it registered. Those monsters were smushed or battered. Broken to pieces and I didn¡¯t know how to feel about it. Some had lifted. Most hadn¡¯t.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Rose asked as she walked over with a wild grin.

    Green ooze decorated every inch of her clothes. Smears of the liquid traced across her face. A piece of some monster hung off her belt. I lifted an eyebrow at the most recent evidence of her anger issues and asked, ¡°Are you?¡±

    Her health bar was fine without a single status effect implying broken bones or near insanity.

    Rose actually laughed. ¡°I¡¯ll be okay. This is what I need right now. That¡¯s what I said earlier. The game gives us what we need, when we need it. Though I¡¯m not allowed to explain anything more.¡±

    ¡°Not allowed to explain. Anything more. What?¡± StoneMason asked slowly with his large chest heaving to get the words out. ¡°And why are we even fighting. If you can just burst. Rainbows all over the place?¡±

    I didn¡¯t think it was a rainbow, but Rose leapt in for me.

    ¡°He¡¯s way above us! Of course, he has abilities from all his other paths. We could do the same if we,¡± she paused then pulled fingers across her lips and pantomimed a key locking. ¡°Well. You know, gotta keep these lips sealed. And you Friday, just keep playing. Do what you want to. Be who you want to. That¡¯s why this place is so great. I know I wanted a fight, and there¡¯s more packs between here and the house. By the end of it? I¡¯ll be great and I¡¯ll bet there¡¯s nothing left on the inside.¡±

    ¡°That other thing. Is legacy knowledge?¡± the giant asked slowly but Rose didn¡¯t hear him. She ran toward the next set of monsters.

    I shook my head. Whatever she implied by all that was beyond me. I knew the game liked to make me face problems and kept drama chasing after me, but it sounded like she was implying something greater than that. Though after my moment of serenity at the river bed, I wondered. How nice it would be, if I could clear up all this prior malarkey and simply enjoy weekends like that? I wouldn¡¯t even need a drink.

    If Friday the 1<sup>st</sup> had been a [Druid], my digital life might have been radically different? There were players that never left town and spent all day crafting clay pots. I could have been one of them. Content to escape the day job instead of forging out and seeking who-knew-what.

    They fought more monsters. I healed and wondered about spending mana on attack spells, but that felt weird. They were having too much fun working on their anger issues on digital creatures. During my repetitively mental wandering, they pulled more monsters to us and proceeded to beat them to death.

    This place wasn¡¯t any harder than the battlefield between kingdoms had been. There were certainly a large number of critters compared to the frozen tundra up north. There, the buzzard like-creatures hovered, waiting for people to be near death.

    The trading post of Friday the 1<sup>st</sup> had been peaceful. Friday the 3<sup>rd</sup> and his digging through the forests had been pretty simple except when creatures became possessed. Those were few but scary. Maybe age had caught up with me and none of this felt impressive anymore.

    More bees buzzed and did whatever it was evil bees did. Moles attacked. Some half dog half tree monsters spun through and did even more whatever. They were all tainted beyond believe and practically popped when I threw out holy based spells.

    It seemed better to let the others gain skills on their characters. They clearly cared more about challenging themselves anyway. That¡¯s what they needed, not me. I needed to keep busy and work through my mental list of problems.

    A hundred silly little half dog tree creatures attacked. They were smaller than the first one I¡¯d seen and squishable. StoneMason stomped them with great delight, and dropped to a roll when some of them swarmed up his beefy legs. Rose sat down laughing at the entire mess. She¡¯d been content enough to let StoneMason deal with all the tiny creatures that were closer to spiders than they were tree-dogs.

    I kept healing him. Every minute I¡¯d weave out a spell and let it flutter away toward him. The creatures would twist and wither away like falling leaves as his health bar returned to full. A fresh wave of the small swarmer monsters would rush toward me. He yelled. They shifted targets and the whole cycle repeated.

    At least we were almost to the stupid doorway. This time we were approaching the main entrance. The wings of the building loomed out in either direction. Tall dead trees framed the walkway. The front door hung half off its hinges and in need of repair. In short, the house was sad.

    I fingered the promise ring in my pocket and wondered how this place had reached such a state of disrepair. One answer was ¡°Because the game said so¡±, but there were normally reasons beyond that. The butler had said this home¡¯s owner had gone through a string of husbands. They¡¯d left her or failed to earn enough money to keep such a massive place functional.

    This was what my grove would be in the future. A run down mess of a place with monsters everywhere. Because I had a string of failed relationships and those relationships had kids. Which made me worry about the minion we¡¯d killed. A monstrous version of some single mother¡¯s child.

    A shiver raced up and down my spine making me shake. ¡°I¡¯m not a Local,¡± I stuttered abruptly.

    ¡°No. You¡¯re a player,¡± Rose said. Her head tilted to one side and she chewed on her lower lip a moment before saying, ¡°You really are in a blender.¡±

    ¡°Rose is right. You¡¯re off. What¡¯s wrong?¡± StoneMason asked. ¡°It¡¯s not like you.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I questioned dumbly. Of course, their words made sense but part of me hadn¡¯t actually thought about explaining what was off about my life. I¡¯d simply internalized it all and muddled my way through. In the military there¡¯d been a lot of whiners who complained about every thing under the sun, but it never mattered in the end.

    Complaints didn¡¯t change things.

    ¡°Yes. You¡¯ve more off than usual.¡± He repeated himself slowly without gasping for air and it barely registered.

    ¡°Than usual?¡± These kids must have thought I was an old crazy guy. One step away from screaming at them to get off my internet.

    I sighed. ¡°Thinking about my prior character¡¯s problems.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s okay. Rose is right. Thinking in here. It¡¯s.¡± StoneMason scratched his head with a tree branch and smiled happily. His foot shook like a dogs. After a deep breathe he finished his thought. ¡°You find what. You seek.¡±

    I wanted them to be quiet and keep killing monsters. Then I could return to my inner monologue and maybe reach some sort of conclusion. Talking about nothing and talking about my feelings were radically different ideas.

    ¡°Do what I¡¯ve been doing. Hit things. It¡¯s like drinking away your problems, but with violence.¡± She smiled, then ran towards the next batch of pointless monsters. ¡°Pulling,¡± Rose yelled for us.

    We didn¡¯t need to fight them. The doorway had been fairly close, and she went out of her way to find monsters to battle. She must have been really annoyed at the talking. Monsters died. I healed. It felt like the same reputative nonsense we¡¯d been doing as a group all night.

    She found more monsters from around the corner of the house, then another batch, and still more. The stream went on for ages until my brian and mana bar were running on empty.

    StoneMason flopped to the ground after the latest batch and sat there heaving.

    The giant rubbed his stony head. ¡°If I could start over, do things differently, I would.¡± StoneMason¡¯s words brought up the earlier conversation. We¡¯d been talking about how each of us restarted our characters to avoid prior issues, or I¡¯d been trying to use that idea to prove a point. The giant waved at Rose¡¯s lifted eyebrow. ¡°Not in here. Out there.¡±

    Her eyes went wide.

    ¡°Oh Voices. That¡¯s what this is. It¡¯s one of those nights where people talk about their real-life feelings and woes.¡± She clasped her hands together and gazed skyward with a dead expression. ¡°Dear Voices. I don¡¯t want that. I don¡¯t want to talk about my feelings on my night off! Change this to combat! If there¡¯s not more monsters inside I¡¯ll log off.¡±

    It¡¯d been mostly combat for her this entire time. Granted, my mind had been wandering the entire time, but the monster murdering hadn¡¯t stopped for long.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to fight,¡± I said.

    ¡°Please more combat,¡± she prayed as her eyelids fluttered. ¡°Give me bad epic raids and awesome bosses. Give me a kingdom to war over. An endless quest with assassins.¡±

    ¡°Ninjas!¡± My offering didn¡¯t make her pause.

    We waited for thunder. I almost expected it. With my [Priest] ranks it was possible. The Voices had sent me signs before, or so I¡¯d been told by the priests I used to hang out with a few Fridays ago.

    ¡°See, you¡¯re both to blame for this. I wanted monsters. Not even a single boss.¡±

    StoneMason ignored her anger and pointed a larger finger. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you? You restarted. That character.¡±

    Rose stomped. ¡°No. That¡¯s what idiots believe. That if they could do it all again they¡¯d make a smarter choice. You can¡¯t make a smarter choice without having made the stupid one first. It¡¯s learn and do better next time. Not magically redo shit. Life the hand you¡¯re dealt, like a grownup.¡±

    Rose¡¯s face had nearly twisted into a small ball of anger. I still hadn¡¯t figured out entirely what happened to her, but I got the impression it had something to do with real life and her child. In my own experience, there were few things that could set a mother off more than slighting her children in some way, and I¡¯d been on the wrong end of those arguments more than once over the years.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± StoneMason said.

    I couldn¡¯t figure out what he was apologizing for. His wish had been perfectly sound. There were a million things I¡¯d go back and change if it were possible. Maybe more, but I also had come to realize that the past couldn¡¯t be undone. Rose had that right too, none of us would be who we were without those prior events to define us.

    None of that passed my lips. It stayed bottled up inside because that¡¯s what my family did. I stepped up and pushed the half broken front door open. The hallways were utterly empty.

    Rose frowned immediately and said, ¡°Guess I¡¯m done for the night. Good luck with your existential crisis Friday.¡± She turned to giant and started up. ¡°You keep on being you. I guess.¡±

    Then she vanished as her character logged off.

    ¡°She didn¡¯t even leave. An autopilot,¡± StoneMason said in halting breathes.

    I shrugged. She¡¯d been here tonight for one purpose only, completed it, and left immediately. At least Rose knew what she wanted out of this game. It¡¯d taken me a dozen characters, literally, to even get a vague idea of what I might life. Besides a beer.

    StoneMason lumbered along with me. The quiet halls were disturbed only by our footprints. I felt glad the dogs had stayed behind. Surely a horde of maids would have barreled out demanding we clean up after them.

    The halls went on forever. Endless corridors that were all basically the same despite the impossibility of miles of look-alike corridors.

    ¡°You were in. The service?¡±

    I didn¡¯t remember telling him that. It must have been another unthinking comment made while drunk. It was no wonder the damn [Legacy] system stalked me so quickly. Drunk Friday couldn¡¯t keep his damn mouth shut any better than sober Friday.

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking about. Joining.¡±

    ¡°Good for you,¡± I said.

    ¡°What do you. Think?¡±

    That was the question that every bright-eyed kid asked once they found out I¡¯d been in the service.

    ¡°Everyone asks that. Or they ask if it¡¯s worth it.¡±

    ¡°Is it?¡±

    Both eyes shut tightly. Of course I¡¯d opened up that conversation. My fault for being so approachable. I checked for a new My inventory was woefully devoid of drinks. I must have plowed through all of them during our fighting. Maybe all that healing magic had ruined any possible buzz from the copious amounts of alcohol.

    I shrugged at StoneMason¡¯s question. Indifferent shoulder movements never stopped anyone from asking questions, so I tried to use the same speech I used on everyone else. ¡°When I just got out of the military, and went to school to be a doctor, people used to ask me if I regretted signing up. I did, but I also didn¡¯t. Joining gave me something I¡¯d never have otherwise. This side of me I didn¡¯t know about until I was forced into it.¡±

    He waited before asking, ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    I shrugged again. Everyone who joined the service got something out of it. They all had a different answer. The groups I sometimes went to, such as the one where I¡¯d met Johnny, were often silent or filled with bitterness and one well-meaning group leader that¡¯d been there before. It wasn¡¯t simply what we saw, it was what we did. I¡¯d been a shitty soldier, tried to be a good doctor, and failed at that too.

    ¡°Others have different answers. And I can¡¯t speak for them, but for me, I found out one important fact about myself.¡±

    He said nothing but watched me with a gaze that might be rapt attention, pity, or worry that I¡¯d finally stepped off into the deep end. Heck, going by my own mentality at that age, listening to old men talk, it was probably all three.

    That wouldn¡¯t understand but I kept going anyway. ¡°I¡¯m able to watch people die and somehow keep going. I did overseas. I still do. I wanted to be a doctor to help people but most of the time machines do it all. Now I get to be there with them when the machines can¡¯t keep them alive. I¡¯m really good at watching people die and somehow waking up the next morning to do it again.¡±

    StoneMason opened his mouth to say something brilliant and I ignored him. The dam was open now, so I¡¯d babble until my brain ran out of steam. ¡°Once a week, it feels like, I sit with someone who won¡¯t make it home again. Or those in so much pain that they¡¯re crying. Crying for their parents. Because real pain, not this imagined virtual crap in here that barely amounts to a wet dream, real pain breaks people.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know where the heck I was going with this. Maybe simply trying to impress something upon these kids. To tell them the world was full of stupidity and we¡¯d have to deal with it or simply stop.

    ¡°So, no. You were right earlier. All that, I think it¡¯s finally making me crack and I¡¯m not okay. I finally found one thing, one thing in this game I enjoyed besides drinking, and that was ruined.¡±

    ¡°What was ruined?¡±

    I didn¡¯t really hear here.

    ¡°All because I¡¯m a fuckup. A fuckup from a long line of them.¡± Mom would hate me for cursing, but her opinion didn¡¯t matter anymore, and it was probably time to realize my parent who¡¯d left meant nothing.

    Dad had died. I had no one and no place to go that wasn¡¯t marred somehow, or subject to flashbacks. ¡°But you don¡¯t ask if you should join the service to get an earful of me bellyaching. Join, you¡¯ll learn something about yourself, one way or the other.¡±

    StoneMason the Stone Mason out digging ditches in the real world. That had a certain sense of irony to it.

    I regretted saying any of that. My goal hadn¡¯t been to disillusion the kid of joining the service but being in the military was nothing like it had been when I first signed up. Machines did everything there too, until they couldn¡¯t. Then untested children were put out in the field to watch each other die.

    Or maybe it hadn¡¯t changed that much.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think. You¡¯re a fuckup.¡± He waved a large hand in my direction. ¡°You¡¯re in the best place. To fix yourself. The game hears you talk. Admitting a problem.¡± StoneMason paused as if I might make some sudden connection. I didn¡¯t. He continued, ¡°The game gives you. A message. A quest. Or skill.¡±

    My body chilled. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You should have a message. Or a popup. Something. Look for it.¡±

    Sure enough, there was a small gold rimmed box floating off to the side of my vision. I focused on it, and the darn thing slowly swung into view until it popped open, much like a quest text. My eyes traced over the words multiple times before any of the meaning started to register. On it, was a list of my problems from the past Fridays.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to piss,¡± I said, and abruptly logged off.

 Session 18 â€“ Drinking is One

    StoneMason was gone by the time I got back from my abrupt bathroom break. The break had gone on longer than intended as I paced around my cramped house and kept track of my heartrate. Playing games all weekend had to be getting to me.

    It was for the best. The list of items had contained too much for me to absorb at one time while also dealing with a kid who didn¡¯t know which end of his body was used for what. I¡¯d have to deal with that butler, who seemed to find everyone distasteful.

    I walked down the halls quietly, relying on assistance from [Stealth] and the enchantment runes I¡¯d covered my clothes in. That, and I wasn¡¯t after a fight. I wanted clarity, a purpose, and a drink.

    But what had really forced me to log off was the stupid system quest that popped up after StoneMason told me the answers were only a box away.

    Quest: Road To Redemption, it said. Along with a gloriously long list of checkboxes to click off. Things like, find the princess and deal with her. Only princess had an asterisk by it and a note that she was now a queen. Even my quest text mocked me.

    Aside from the snark, it wasn¡¯t exactly a bad list. I had to try and fix Dari or remove his curse. That I liked. There were some notes about paying back my debt to another kingdom after causing an insurrection. That one, I didn¡¯t like as much since gold was easy come, easy go.

    What really bothered me though, wasn¡¯t the simple idea that everything could be solved by going through a checklist of objectives. I didn¡¯t like the idea that this game had been simply waiting for me to look for an answer then dropped the list out in one single dump.

    The manner meandered, or I meandered through it, while reading the finer details. ¡°Give up the drink?¡± I mumbled then snorted. ¡°Not likely. Drinking with no hangover is the best thing about this game.¡±

    That checkbox on the quest text turned an angry red after my declaration. It didn¡¯t go away. I thought about my earlier peaceful moment in the woods with the dogs. ¡°Maybe,¡± I amended, ¡°but not likely.¡±

    The text went to yellow. The implications were beyond me right now. I hummed and went through more of the goals. Each one made me sigh heavily. ¡°How am I meant to remove Woe from a tree? Kill it?¡±

    I didn¡¯t relish the idea of fighting that monstrous tree. The ghosts of girlfriends past had always chased me and filled me with dread. I¡¯d rather face Dari¡¯s evil enslavers in their raw form. Which none of my quest text said anything about. It might be for the best that I¡¯d never have to go back to that stupid forest.

    Even with its musky smell in some areas, I preferred my grove and the forest that¡¯d grown around it. It wasn¡¯t as dark or creepy. It was simply nature. There were all sorts of critters who fearlessly dodged between the trees away from my pack of rabbit chasers.

    My mind continued to wander as each item on the list brought up some bit from the past. The more I thought about it, the amount of stuff I¡¯d done in the year since playing this game had reached a staggering height. I¡¯d lived almost an entire life in here on the weekends. Every Friday had tried something new, sometimes absurd or petty.  More so then I¡¯d ever done in the real world. Out there I¡¯d performed the same day job with the same depressing results for years.

    ¡°Too many rooms. Not enough,¡± I paused and didn¡¯t know how to finish that thought. This had to be my fourth time through this manner and for all I knew, I was heading up one wing and down the other. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Something. This place is empty as heck.¡±

    None of them rooms had monsters. There weren¡¯t even evil, giant cockroaches hanging around to set on fire. The place had vaguely been cleaned up, or at least out. Piles of dust layered the windowsills and fingerprints mixed with moss on the glass. Their floorboards weren¡¯t much better. Nails stuck out every other foot but I hardly felt them.

    Maybe I was being too quiet.

    ¡°Hello?¡± I ventured.

    No one answered. I stuck my head in a room and glanced around. Broken shelving lines two dressers and a hulking monster or army of dogs had ruined the bed. I couldn¡¯t tell if these were servant¡¯s quarters.

    After a moment of disconnected thoughts, I realized that Johnny had made us that insane map last time. I fiddled around with my menu, brought it up, and deleted most of the notes about traps. There were still hidden corridors marked, danger areas on display, but he¡¯d also left a bit of information on the sections of the house.

    If I wanted to find a butler who seemed to oversee this entire manner, there were two spots to look. One would be near the rest of the servant¡¯s, in the largest room. Though this game might have a head maid or something else so that couldn¡¯t be relied upon.

    However, at the entrance to the house owner¡¯s wing might be a better location. Surely, they¡¯d keep their ¡°best¡± help nearby. I ventured off in that direction, taking care to avoid the haunted dining hall and it¡¯s hungry table. There¡¯d been zero to fight inside but I didn¡¯t want to run the risk of the game simply waiting to sneak up on me.

    I almost missed the background music of old school games. At least then I¡¯d know if huge battles were coming up soon. Maybe there were players with a skill of some sort that let them hear rousing battle tunes.

    This hall was a dude. I backed up and down another forked pathway and tried to count the rooms. There were at least a hundred here, making the place thirty or forty thousand square feet. Despite its size, the dogs could probably run end to end in ten minutes flat and still have energy for another lap. Except Sleepy. He¡¯d pass out on a floor and wait for someone to bring him back treats.

    The butler fixated on the dogs¡¯ presence. That served as another reason to leave them behind. I abruptly realized that guilt also played a part. It should have with Dari, but he was more intelligent and made his own choices too.

    These rooms were fancier but still run down. Most of the book shelves were picked over and those items that remained were ruined by age. I hoped they¡¯d return to some semblance of normal if we lifted the curse. It had to be rough to sleep on these beds.

    ¡°Mister Friday. You¡¯ve returned to grave our halls once again with a unique odor.¡±

    One arm came up and I took a sniff. It wasn¡¯t great. The dry heat of China had been miles worse.

    ¡°I took a bath,¡± I said as I turned around. The man himself had snuck up on me. Despite his vaguely friendly tone he looked like a corpse that had been run over by a parade of cars then stitched into a shape that vaguely resembled human. And he still managed to look down his misshapen nose at me.

    ¡°You¡¯ve bathed,¡± he drug out the statement. Fleas hopped off of him and scattered on the floor. I shivered then lifted my hands for a healing spell. He didn¡¯t try to fight me and let the colorful energy wash over him.

    His body returned to a far neater presentation. I babbled a bit while the change made him less barf inducing. ¡°At least once. Got messy again after though. Wasn¡¯t my idea.¡±

    I¡¯d stumbled into town for a drink wearing the unholy mess that was my digital character. No one looked at me twice. Players out here in the boonies rarely cared.

    ¡°No shoes still.¡± His words were growing crisper.

    ¡°No shoes.¡± I nodded and pretended to be serious. ¡°They ruin my communing with nature.¡±

    He frowned and gave me yet another once over. Bright blue eyes. I couldn¡¯t remember if they¡¯d been that color before or another one. I felt fairly sure it was at least the same butler. There might be a whole army of them in here somewhere.

    ¡°Perhaps we could adjourn to the garden.¡± He gestured down the hall to a door that went out into monster land.

    ¡°It has bees.¡±

    My words finally bothered him enough for the butler to sigh deeply. ¡°Would you at least consider moving off the carpet?¡± he asked. ¡°Mud is easier to clean on wood.¡±

    That was a fair request. I took two steps to the left and out of the bedroom I¡¯d wandered into. He took another deep breathe and shuddered so softly I wondered if I¡¯d imagined it. Then he politely smiled.

    Carefully he picked at his clothes and removed a stray piece of lint. ¡°Mister Friday, what brings you here this time?¡±

    I pulled up my inventory and started yanking out piles of rings. The butler stood there and made no move to collect them, so I put the mess on a nearby dusty surface and continued pulling out everything Johnny had given me.

    The butler frowned. ¡°That is an unexpectedly large number of rings.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not even sure these are all the ones you were looking for. It¡¯s just what we gathered.¡±

    ¡°But so many?¡±

    My shoulders lifted. ¡°Have there been that many suitors over the years?¡±

    His eyes literally glazed over, giving him a ghostly look against the grand window. ¡°Perhaps. It¡¯s hard,¡± he faded away. ¡°Time is strange here. And how we look at the world, even stranger. Even now, it seems like you¡¯re here, but not here. It seems like there¡¯s ghosts wandering the halls but if you were to seek them, you wouldn¡¯t find them.¡±

    The man rambled for a bit, but I got the impression he was talking about other adventuring parties. It must be strange to be a computer character stuck in a place where hundreds of people might be roaming through. I knew this place couldn¡¯t be this empty, not with a player town nearby doing their thing.

    Or maybe he¡¯d gone off the deep end and was lost in some sort of fragmented memory loop. His far away gaze reminded me of dementia patients. I glanced around and noticed that there were no zombie maids this time either.

    He still didn¡¯t prompt me on what to do next. The butler seemed lost staring at all the rings. I waved a hand and asked, ¡°Do I hand them to her?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not ready to meet her yet.¡±

    My gaze tightened at that statement. It could have been the game being clever, or the butler telling me I hadn¡¯t earned the right. Either reason bothered me.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    He gave a tight smile then dusted himself off again. ¡°When you¡¯re truly lost, ask again.¡±

    No boxes popped up. Nothing with my [Road to Redemption] quest changed. I looked side to side then decided to treat it as a possibility for some future weekend. Not this one. My eyes closed slowly as the words sunk in and went nowhere.

    ¡°Then what should I do?¡±

    ¡°Wait.¡±

    ¡°How long?¡±

    ¡°As long as it takes.¡±

    ¡°Useful,¡± I said dryly. ¡°I¡¯ll just wander off for another month and check back in.¡±

    ¡°Perfect. That should be an appropriate measure of time. Additionally, all manner of ruffians have been prowling our grounds, making it impossible to keep the missus in good spirits.¡±

    An eyebrow lifted. Now we were getting somewhere but his claim of that shriking presence being ¡°in good spirits¡± had to be a joke.

    ¡°Relatively,¡± the butler amended before continuing, ¡°If you¡¯d be so kind as to clear the grounds out of its uninvited guests while I see if any of these rings spark a change in the miss.¡±

    ¡°All of them?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯d be unreasonable. No matter how much your strength has grown, you¡¯re simply one man. If one man could do everything, there¡¯d be no need for my class.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t tell if that was a back handed insult or simply a fact. He had a point though, this entire building would be impossible for one person. Though, I hoped he didn¡¯t mean I¡¯d need a part of people to clear the unwanted guests.

    Assuming he wasn¡¯t talking about every single monster within shouting distance. Rose might love that. Not me.

    ¡°What¡¯s out there?¡±

    ¡°Some ruffians in search of their query.¡±

    My body chilled then another flush followed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do,¡± I said slowly. Admitting they were probably following me seemed counterproductive. We were getting along so well for a cursed undead servant of some high and mighty miss I-forgot-her-name, and the local drunk druid.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    I flipped through my notes. Either I¡¯d never noted her name, or no one had mentioned it. It didn¡¯t bother me much either way at this stage. The rings were turned in, my quest had vaguely updated. I read the text slowly.

    Quest: Widow¡¯s Husbands Part II

    There¡¯s a matter, of a promise, before the Voices for all time, between a widow and her suitors, trailing woe along behind. Of course, this has to do with the men who occasionally visited, not those who fled.

    Status ¨C See if returning the promise rings lifts the curse or gets you in more trouble.

    ¡°Bet I know the answer already,¡± I muttered. Based on the quest text, there¡¯d be only one real outcome. None of the promise rings would be right. The lady who owned this place would go insane. An epic raid of die hard thrill seeking players would decent upon the manner and fight for loot and experience points.

    I sighed. Maybe Johnny had more rings somewhere.

    There were a few boxes about minor skill increases as a result of my quest progressing forward but nothing stood out. Skills ranks rarely matter anyway, the game was more about taking actions rather than having seven hundred million strength to lift a rock up a hill. Whatever challenges were throw a player¡¯s way could be faced by the skills they had or thinking outside the box.

    I¡¯d learned that after talking with many, many drunk players. Their stories were always the same. Something had gone wrong. They didn¡¯t have a easy button to press and make life better. They found a way out using two sticks, a piece of string, and bat wings. They escaped and gained a new skill.

    Or they died. That probably happened just as frequently but no one in the bar told those stories. No one wanted a rousing tale of daring and adventure that ended in ¡°And then they cut my head off¡±.

    The butler had vanished along with the pile of rings. My view of the outside seemed remarkably still. The clouds overhead were either frozen or not moving. I ventured down the hall until I found a door that went outside and stood there staring at the horizon.

    There were people out there fighting against nature. Literally. I saw the bounty hunters too. At least that¡¯s what they seemed like. A dozen men danced around in field with a giant tree that swung branches at them.

    I pulled my mug out of player inventory and checked the bottom. Not a drop left in there. I didn¡¯t feel drunk anymore. Only exhausted and tense. My back ached. One side of my skull started throbbing abruptly. Likely from a budding tension headache which meant I should log out and stretch.

    That darn tree had grown huge over the months. Faces had once been carved into its skin but most of them were impossible to pick out. I couldn¡¯t even tell where they started and the monsters actual snarling face began.

    Staring at the [Tree of Woe], while sober, sucked.

    It ate a bounty hunter while I kept a blank gaze. It should have bothered me more but they were so far away it almost didn¡¯t matter. They were almost figures dancing on a television screen.

    Guilt kicked in. Neither of them would be here if it wasn¡¯t for my prior choices. I could fix at least one of them and clear an item from my bucket list for Friday the 13<sup>th</sup>. Then after I cleared this stupid quest list, I could decide if I wanted to start over, or keep on going and enjoy the relative solitude of walks in the woods.

    ¡°Onward!¡± I shouted happily to no one. My shoulders drooped. The dogs would have barked in joy.

    Out I stepped, and the world pulsed. Both legs stopped moving but the rest of me kept right on going. Pain registered before the bounce of my body hitting the floor. Eyes crossed. An ear popped then numbed.

    I fumbled for a healing spell. My free arm drug across the filthy grass. Shudders raced up to my head as the druid feedback told me about the revolting ground.

    The world rattled as something nearby screamed in my ear. I turned. Teeth framed a bottomless pit of sorts. A few solid blinks brought the rest into horrifying focus.

    ¡°You again,¡± I said.

    The returned ghost girl shrieked in my face. Both eyes popped and the already sideways world spun to one side without my permission.

    Numb lips struggled to form words. My arm jerked upward toward a inventory window. ¡°That¡¯s rude.¡±

    She dove at me. I rolled, pulled out my [Staff of Thaddaeus] and channeled a larger healing spell into it. The crazy ghost boss swum up from the ground, hair wild and clawed fingers spread wide. She screamed long and loud until my eyes vibrated.

    The healing spell I¡¯d channeled popped. Green swirled between strands of white. Rotting grey of the landscape withdrew at incredible speeds. The ghost¡¯s screamed turned to mournful howls as she fled.

    I huffed slowly and let the healing magic wash over me. Dizziness faded. Dull ringing in my ear stopped. Both legs shook as I stood. My heartbeat sped up despite the fight being over.

    But it wasn¡¯t. I held the staff off to my side and fought my rapid breathing. The air smelled cripse. A mix of pine and sourness. The smell overrode everything else, even a distance chill that laced up my toes from the ground and still somehow felt comforting.

    The glow reached a maximum. All around me the manor felt vibrant and full of life. I turned toward the grand window I¡¯d been staring at. Inside ghosts of children laughed and played. A woman sat in a rocking chair tettering back and forth.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked empty air.

    A tiny, see-through girl blew hot air onto the cold glass. She traced out a heart and the word ¡°mom¡± before it faded.

    That¡¯s what I was fighting to fix here. A broken home almost beyond repair. Inside it, with enough healing magic or breaking the curse, a home with happy people living a full life. The kind of life I¡¯d had until mom left. The kind of life I could never have of my own.

    Maybe that¡¯s why this stupid quest had lodged itself into my brain and refused to let go. If I couldn¡¯t have it, I could try to at least make sure someone else did. Even if they weren¡¯t real. It¡¯d be like my day job, only the power to help someone get home at the end of the night was wholly in my hands and not in some machine that dolled out medication.

    ¡°I can do this,¡± I mumbled. The words felt weak, small, and timid. Maybe it was me that felt like those things.

    As soon as the healing glow reseeded, the angry ghost came again.

    She swooped. I sighed, pointed the staff again, and started to chant. The ghost fell for my ruse and veered to one side. Her body twisted in on itself at impossible angles.

    ¡°Neat trick.¡±

    The monster yelled. I spared a glance toward the distance where the [Tree of Woe] had stopped moving. There were dozens of men out there, moving around it. I couldn¡¯t sort it out quick enough.

    Her body swung in horror show jerks, back and forth, eyes on me the entire time. Then she dove again.

    ¡°Ah!¡± Up came the staff, end glowing dimly from [Illumination]. Maybe she¡¯d be stupid enough to think it was another one of those healing aura bombs I¡¯d done earlier.

    She veered off to the side, howling mournfully the entire way. I turned unsteadily, trying to keep an eye on the monster.

    The thudding of my heart from earlier kept on coming. I¡¯d thought myself past getting excited in a game but this came on too suddenly.

    I needed to log out and breathe.

    The humming of her wail echoed softly off the building behind me. It didn¡¯t help me figure out which direction to keep guard on.

    ¡°Left? Right?¡±

    No one answered me.

    I eyed the bounty hunters again. They weren¡¯t close enough to scare her off. That¡¯s what had done it last time. Summoning the dogs. I could do it again but they needed the rest. Getting myself killed closing up quests wouldn¡¯t be the end of the world. Other games might have issues if players died but Continue Online expected people to get killed frequently.

    Those thoughts distracted me. The wails pitch rose from my right. I tumbled to one side.

    She caught my [Bear Foot] and drug me along the ground. I flailed, trying to find purchase and struggling to keep a grip on my staff. For a moment I forgot about healing and swung the staff. It passed through her body uselessly.

    My foot was released anyway. I scrambled to get control of my own body and lifted the staff again. With all these increased ranks for my healing paths, the weapon, I managed to keep her hat bay. Last time I¡¯d run my mana dry with a foot in water and been trying to summon my dogs.

    It wasn¡¯t the combat skills that kept her back.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m onto you.¡± I nodded furiously. ¡°You don¡¯t like healing. You¡¯re like the butler. I¡¯ll bet you turn into some-¡° she yelled and my ears rung. I put up a hand and calmly traced a small healing spell.

    The specter flew back and forth just out of reach. Even one of my lower end healing spells created a sort of bubble she didn¡¯t seem willing to enter. I took that as confirmation.

    ¡°Come on. It won¡¯t hurt.¡±

    I stepped toward her, staff lit up. It seemed brighter than normal.

    The ghost shimmered and wailed. It backed away. The creature that had my heart racing earlier now seemed pathetic. Or at the least, cowardly. Maybe that¡¯s why she only attacked people who were by themselves.

    ¡°Don¡¯t lie to a priest now,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s a sin. I¡¯m sure.¡±

    Getting her into the radius of an effective spell would be harder than expected. Unless I could distract her somehow. A vague plan occurred to me. It¡¯d probably fail but it felt like my best bet to achieve all of this weekend¡¯s goals.

    I jabbed at her with the staff. She flickered fast to a new location and slowly crept in. The dark pits in her face where eyes should be grew wider and seemingly desperate. She waited for a moment of weakness. My focus was on trying to herd her into a healing bomb. Not that they were actually called bombs.

    [Prayer Burst] had been the original name. After merging it with [Druid] path healing spells, it got changed to [Burst of Nature]. The names were stupid, and I hadn¡¯t nailed down the actual healing totals aside from ¡°a lot¡± and ¡°enough to keep crazy ghosts at bay¡±.

    The ground behind her had an uneven slope. Behind me sat the mansion. She didn¡¯t attack me inside so I hoped indoors was off limits to her.

    I turned and tucked the tip of my staff into my shirt then lumbered awkwardly for the door. With my other hand I charged up the healing spell.

    Behind me, her scream changed. Hair on my neck stood on end. I ignored it and kept my hands on the staff. It was a miracle that I didn¡¯t trip on the awkwardly held weapon.  Not that I¡¯d thank any of the Voices for such a small favor.

    She grabbed my foot again. My other leg held for a second then gave out. Sharp pain jutted up from my knee. I slid the staff awkwardly down along my pants, trying to keep the building glow obscured. I thought of too many choices for next time. Clothes to obscure the tip. Turning off the stupid [Illumination] spell was impossible since the [Burst of Nature] required it.

    It worked. She ignored my budding spell and continued to pull on my foot, dragging me into the field. Further away from the vague sanctuary that the mansion might be. I let her and pushed the staff in her direction, making sure she couldn¡¯t escape.

    Her head flicked back to mine right as the spell bubbled. Green and white light flooded the area again and she pulled away.

    My knee slammed into the ground. Healing magic washed over the area, numbing the pain almost before it registered.

    The angry ghost didn¡¯t escape. Her scream went from annoying to subsonic screeching. My eyes strained to register the sound as something sane. Both legs wobbled as but functioned well enough to get upright. I huffed heavily, used the staff to brace myself, and watched the ensuing light show.

    The large floated down to the ground. Feet formed. The strung out limbs shrunk to almost a third their previous length, until a young child in absolutely ragged clothes stood staring at me. Her bare arms wrapped around each other for warmth.

    My stomach clenched and heart skipped a beat. This was the terror of solo players at [Widow¡¯s Children]. She was a literal child, cursed like everyone else in this mansion.

    I felt sick. Especially after the week I¡¯d had.

    ¡°Are you my daddy?¡± she asked with the innocence only a child could manage.

    I stared at the tiny girl. She looked exactly like the one that had been in the window with ringlets spun in her long hair. Her bottom lip tucked away in a partial chew and a broken faltering smile that never reached her eyes. It was the same darn look of hope people gave me when they were dying. I was a doctor, not a miracle worker.

    No. I was a glorified ambulance driver.

    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± I said slowly. Dealing with kids took more care than anyone could ever manage, especially a man with no family like me. Maybe there¡¯d been a chance many years ago, but after the service kids were even harder to deal with.

    Her face crumpled and I hastily added, ¡°But I¡¯m trying to make this place better for you.¡±

    She turned her head slightly then cast both eyes down. ¡°You¡¯re not daddy?¡±

    I shook my head. She may not have been looking but I couldn¡¯t bring myself to say the words at first. A deep breath made me shudder. This was just a game. ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±

    ¡°Do you know where he is? I asked momma and she said,¡± pain blossomed at the back of my head and the world went white.

    Vision returned with one pinprick of light that slowly spread. Distant pain registered and breathing hurt. I pushed past that and told myself that the hurt would go away once I logged out. For the umpteenth time today, I fumbled for a healing spell that might cure dry mouth.

    Nothing happened.

    ¡°Where,¡± the word escaped without follow up.

    ¡°He was just staring at a bit of nothing. Lucky we came along when we did. Bam. He¡¯s out. None of those filthy dogs in sight. Them other Travelers are as gone as gone could be.¡±

    Their words didn¡¯t filter right. Something scrapped along my back. Two men were puling me along by my legs at a quick pace. They didn¡¯t care about bumps or bruises.

    ¡°What¡¯s that tree doing?¡±

    ¡°He won¡¯t leaf us alone,¡± the other responded. He chuckled at his own brilliance. ¡°Get it. I said leaf. He¡¯s a tree.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I got it,¡± the other one responded. ¡°Damn thing. You sure it wouldn¡¯t just kill him and save us the work?¡±

    ¡°They said no. Likes to take his Traveler¡¯s corpse and use it for fertilizer. That¡¯s what happened to the other two. Remember? It¡¯s all in the damn log. Verified by the guild leader hisself.¡±

    I groaned. That sounded disgusting. The [Tree of Woe] camping on my corpses wasn¡¯t sane. Thought it could be possible, since I¡¯d never let my current characters get caught by it. Something had to happen to the prior Fridays after they died. I wondered if the darn monstrosity had chased down all twelve of my prior bodies.

    ¡°Hey There Traveler Friday. We¡¯ll be with you in just a second. Gotta get somewhere safe you know. Can¡¯t have interruptions.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I asked.

    ¡°We¡¯re taking your body somewhere safe. Before we take your head.¡±

    My eyes closed slowly and opened one at a time. The words replayed a few times before they registered.

    I tried again. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re taking your head.¡± The bounty hunter who drug me along looked to his friend then shrugged. ¡°Here¡¯s good enough.¡±

    They let my body flop to the ground. I struggled to muster another healing spell but couldn¡¯t manage much of anything. Either my arms didn¡¯t work or something had gone wrong. I checked over my items. The [Staff of Thaddaeus] had returned to player inventory. Thankfully being [Bound] meant it was hard to lose. My clothes were all damaged beyond repair.

    I didn¡¯t have much to my name to lose if they did kill me, so it wouldn¡¯t matter if they did take my head. In fact, that had been one of my goals. They get a corpses head, I get rid of one of the problems of Fridays past.

    My mouth still worked and that¡¯s all I needed.

    ¡°When you see the queen,¡± my cheeks hurt but still managed a smile, ¡°tell her I know the truth.¡±

    A cough made me double over, as much as I could without arms. Or at least, I presumed my arms were gone. The pain feedback from my ARC made it impossible to focus on such a simple problem. And without arms I couldn¡¯t cast [Druid] healing spells. [Priest] ones were still possible, but now wasn¡¯t the time.

    ¡°What¡¯s that supposta mean?¡± the dumber of the two idiots asked.

    ¡°She¡¯ll know,¡± I said then smirked.

    Once the message was delivered, I hoped that this insane pursuit of my head in name of baby-mama drama would cease. She¡¯d have one to put on a pike and know that was a Traveler, I could simply show up and get some magical DNA test to prove she¡¯d been lying this entire time.

    No kind of queen, of two kingdoms, could hold her empire after such an overwhelming lie. Hopefully. Next weekend I¡¯d see how well this gamble worked out. Then after that I could do the next item on the to-do list. Remove the woe from the [Tree of Woe].

    Because that should be easy.

    The bounty hunter blinked slowly then shrugged. ¡°You heard the man. We¡¯ve got a head and a message to deliver. Maybe we¡¯ll get a bonus.¡±

    ¡°Just as likely she¡¯ll send us out here to chop his head off again,¡± another bounty hunter said. ¡°We ain¡¯t mailmen.¡±

    ¡°For gold I¡¯ll be a princess in a dress, I will.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d like that.¡±

    ¡°Might at that. All them people bowing and all that gold.¡±

    I snorted dryly. Both of the glared down at me with their fat lips puckered into frowns. They spit to the ground and cursed at the same time, ¡°Travelers.¡±

    One lifted an axe. The other bent over and pulled on my hair. I cried out at the agonizing stretch.

    Then they chopped off my head.

    With a flash of meaningless pain, the blade separated noggin from neck. I logged out and went to get breakfast and coffee.

    Sleeping now would be impossible. The soft look of that sad little girl haunted me. All she¡¯d wanted was her dad. I still remembered feeling that way. Once again it struck me that I¡¯d outlived my entire family. That thought was shoved into a quiet dark place along with so many others.

    Inside the cabinet with my coffee was the last bottle I¡¯d drank dry as reminder of what had started this nonsense of playing virtual reality games. It sat there, empty, taunting me with a promise of easy oblivion. My hand shook briefly as I reached out and managed to grab only coffee.

 Session 19 â€“Tilting the Windmill

    Work came and went as it always did; slowly, painfully, and without enough rest. The older I got, the more I realized that getting a restful night¡¯s sleep was a myth concocted by adults for the sole purpose of making children to shut up for eight hours.

    This week marked eight months on the year sobriety and I¡¯d probably cheated. Weakness was weakness and limiting it to a virtual world meant nothing. The only way it I convinced myself was explaining that there were no hangovers. Not an ounce of liquor ran through my flesh and veins.

    That was my week, mulling over life¡¯s choices and trying to approach the upcoming mini vacation with a clear head. The first thing I¡¯d done upon logging it was make sure the grove hadn¡¯t undergone insane transformations. Everything remained much the same. Dari sat in his cage sleeping. The dogs ran around and barked wildly, ignoring me but much better after a month in their version of the world.

    I paged the others to ask if they were ready and willing to murder a boss for loot and great justice. StoneMason agreed. Johnny said he¡¯d show up to watch us get our butts kicked. He detested combat but battle would be required. I didn¡¯t know any other way to defeat the [Tree of Woe].

    Four of us met outside [Widow¡¯s Children], at the same brick wall that marked the region¡¯s boundary. Rose was the only one missing but Nemesis told us she¡¯d be on soon. The young woman wasn¡¯t one to miss a fight.

    I¡¯d spent the last few minutes trying to drunkenly convince Johnny that this whole mission wasn¡¯t insane. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, we can do it with this small group. Once we learn how to fight it.¡± Johnny huffed and I worked to calm him down. ¡°We can do this.¡±

    ¡°No, we can¡¯t. You want take that thing out with five people? Assuming Rose makes it online. I watched it wreck havoc against an army, Friday. Remember your last character where you mocked all the powers in the game and they started a war? That thing survived.¡± Johnny put up his hands. ¡°I mean, if this is what you want Friday, I¡¯m in. But we¡¯ve got beyond a bad idea into a terrible one.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve got to have a way to beat it. Maybe I can heal the ground. We pull the tree over it. It freaks out, and maybe flamethrower it to death.¡± It had worked on the bugs and undead. Combining the two had to do something in our favor. Though the [Tree of Woe] had eaten groups of bounty hunters and a number of other players.

    ¡°I¡¯m not fighting,¡± Johnny protested. ¡°Not against that. You¡¯re lucky I don¡¯t mind bugs.¡±

    Johnny hadn¡¯t done anything against the zombie maids either. It made zero sense that he felt find murdering giant cockroaches but couldn¡¯t bring himself to fight a tree.

    I sighed. ¡°Of course you¡¯re not fighting. You¡¯re a lover, not a fighter.¡±

    ¡°Lover? Not even. You know the last girl I asked out told me I was too short? I¡¯ve been racially profiled. Never mind that there¡¯s skills to make up for everything. There¡¯s an actual skill for, what¡¯s that fancy word for going down on a girl?¡±

    We¡¯d ventured back onto sex. Clearly, he was in a sour mood. Maybe he¡¯d had a bad breakup. My eyes blinked slowly and tackled the one part of the conversation I could argue with. ¡°But you¡¯re not short,¡± I said.

    ¡°Oh, out there I¡¯m fine. But that¡¯s why I like it in here. I get to do all the things I can¡¯t in real life. Ever had sex with a girl with four tits?¡± Johnny put both his hands up high, as if cupping round objects well above his head. He smiled, closed his eyes, and nodded. ¡°Or a tail. Or two sometimes. Once had a girl with these bat wings. While hanging off the side of a cliff. After we were attacked by killer somethings. I honestly don¡¯t remember anything but the sex.¡±

    Our fourth companion, the green skinned dryad, crossed her arms. ¡°How did we get on this conversation?¡± Nemesis asked. ¡°Because if we¡¯re doing bang brags, I¡¯ll start talking about mine, complete with dick curves and measurements.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Johnny said without a hint of remorse. A second later he smirked. ¡°What kind of curves you into? You a straight girl or like the bend? Medium, big, bigger. I know this guy who¡¯s a minotaur in game. I got an eyeful from down here, which is awkward, but I can confirm the rumors are true. He¡¯s hung like a bull.¡±

    Nemesis grinned then held her hands out to measure who knew what. I pretended none of it made sense and changed the subject. Because it was that or hear her talk about past relationships and wonder if I might measure up, and given how hypocritical that made me, I hoped we could stop talking about it all together.

    ¡°Check your pockets,¡± I suggested. ¡°Johnny likes to distract people then roam through their belongings.¡±

    Our silent companion, StoneMason, nodded slowly. He¡¯d spent our entire conversation staring at the long brick wall that marked the boundary to [Widow¡¯s Children]. He might have been playing some stone mason minigame or simply gotten lost in thought.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have pockets,¡± she responded. ¡°Technically I¡¯m not even wearing pants.¡± Nem¡¯s eyebrows wiggled as she looked my direction. ¡°Hey, Friday. Want to check and make sure?¡±

    My face warmed. It¡¯d been ages since a real woman had flirted with me and while I enjoyed it, I¡¯d almost forgotten how to respond. I tried anyway. ¡°I¡¯d be happy to, after this. We¡¯ve got a monster to die to. Then we can go get a drink and give that date a second try. Sunday night for sure?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re buying,¡± she said with a firm nod.

    I loved being an adult. Sometimes asking a girl out was that easy. They showed interest, I showed interest, we planned. It was great to remove the guesswork.

    Johnny cleared his throat. We both looked over to see him shaking a finger at us. ¡°What about me? I¡¯m twice the man Friday is.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re literally half the man.¡±

    ¡°Bah. Sizeist. You two need to stop then, flirting in public is rude. It makes us single men jealous. Right, Stone?¡± Johnny reached up and patted StoneMason on the side. The baby-faced giant nodded slowly again.

    Johnny frowned.

    I snorted.

    My diminutive friend put his hands up and gestured to StoneMason. ¡°Look at this! He¡¯s been worthless all day. He doesn¡¯t have any gold to steal. Doesn¡¯t have anything worth selling. I can¡¯t even get him on my side in an argument.¡± Johnny cupped his hands together. ¡°Hey, RockHead, how¡¯s the weather up there?¡±

    StoneMason nodded, again.

    ¡°See?¡± Johnny rolled his eyes then pulled his backpack off one shoulder and started digging through.

    Nemesis laughed. I smiled at hearing her having a good time. Of course, we were also here to destroy a video game embodiment of all my bad relationships, so I should have been stuffing the kiddy crush and focusing harder.

    It seemed unlikely that four of us could murder the giant tree. I assumed that Nemesis and her dryad powers would probably work better than Rose and her stabbing skills. StoneMason served as a good meat shield, plus his ability to spin around with large sticks would be extra effective on a tree monster. Johnny, well he was there to keep everyone else that might be in the area, busy.

    Nemesis watched Johnny fiddle about. ¡°I don¡¯t know this tree. Everytime I try to fight it, it just eats a tree fro the grove and runs off. Have you got a plan besides heal it to death?¡±

    My head shook. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how else to beat this thing. I mean, I¡¯m a druid and you¡¯d think trees are my thing, but I¡¯m a crappy druid.¡± The system message about [Naturalist Naturally Numb?] flashed across my vision. ¡°And while I could probably find someone to ask about it, I¡¯d rather just stop this thing now.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m all for that. It keeps messing up the Glade of Midnight. Mason¡¯s rebuilt one of the eastern walls a dozen times now.¡±

    ¡°Glade of Midnight?¡± I lifted an eyebrow. ¡°You mean the druid grove?¡±

    Nem shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s what I call it. What did you want to name it? Did they give you one of those little boxes to pick something? I got one. I mean, we could change it. I¡¯m new to this whole dryad thing. Or the game really. I only play a little bit between work and the rest of life.¡±

    Her not knowing how to handle all the dryad¡¯s powers made sense. I¡¯d met players with other races before. They were typically required to jump through a few hoops to even get a chance at anything beyond human. Barroom bragging implied most race changes required a quest chain here, reputation there, or swallowing the wrong magical stone from a dungeon.

    ¡°How does that work? I know you planted that tree of yours in the grove¡± which I still wasn¡¯t sure if I should care about ¡°And those flowers on my alter. Does it give you any bonuses within a certain radius? Should you even be this far away from it?¡±

    She could play however she wanted, but if being closer to her tree helped, we should lure our target back toward the grove.

    ¡°The town calls it beginner logging area two.¡± Johnny chimed in. He dug out a small pouch and held it up to StoneMason¡¯s side. He frowned, shook his head, then put the pouch back into his bottomless bag. ¡°No one calls it the Glade of Midnight. I mean really.¡±

    ¡°What if I pay you?¡± Nem asked Johnny. ¡°And I¡¯ll be fine,¡± she said to me. ¡°There¡¯s a whole bunch of bonuses while in the grove, but I¡¯ve still got a lot out here. Or so Rose tells me. All these numbers make my eyes spin.¡±

    Johnny put an arm up like he was requesting permission to talk from the teacher. Nem stopped to stare at him. ¡°Ten gold and I¡¯ll call it the Glade of Midnight even if it¡¯s high noon.¡±

    I ignored his money earning method and yawned. Silence ensued until Nemesis changed the topic. ¡°How was work this week?¡± Nem asked. ¡°They tell me you¡¯re an EMT, or something along those lines. That must be rough.¡±

    Going from killing a boss to social niceties could only be accomplished in a video game. Since I was likely doomed, taking this fight seriously the first time would be a waste of sanity. Johnny implied I¡¯d fail repeatedly then start a new Friday. It¡¯d happened before.

    ¡°Work¡¯s always rough. No one gets an ambulance because they¡¯re happy.¡± I fought a second yawn.

    ¡°I hear that. My grandbaby¡¯s got a set of lungs on him that¡¯ll rattle the walls. She was up all night with him and barely got to sleep this morning. That¡¯s why she¡¯s on late. The kid is out like a light and I¡¯ve got one of those house helper robots making breakfast. I hate the glorified toasters but this thing can sure cook a great omelet.¡±

    I nodded slowly. It must be nice to be able to afford a housekeeper, even if they were mechanical. I¡¯d seen them before when working and always felt jealous.

    Johnny gave a triumphant shout. He held up a small round marble that crackled with electricity. ¡°I¡¯m done with your flirting, so, time to snap RockHead out of it.¡± Johnny pulled StoneMason¡¯s waistband to one side and dropped in his sparking sphere.

    ¡°What,¡± I started a question but Johnny cut me off with a raised finger.

    ¡°Wait for it,¡± he said.

    StoneMason did nothing for at least five seconds, then electricity crackled across his skin and his body seized. The giant toppled, while ridged as a statue, to one side. Nem and I both laughed while Johnny went over and waved a finger at the newly refocused StoneMason.

    ¡°You¡¯re here to beat up a tree, not fall in love with a wall!¡± Johnny punched him in the thigh.

    ¡°Sorry. I was thinking.¡± StoneMason shook a leg and the marble dropped out onto the floor.

    Johnny grabbed it quickly and threw it back into his backpack. ¡°Well don¡¯t. Remember what happened last time you started thinking? All those lumberjacks at the edge of the forest complained because you built brick walls around their autopilots!¡±

    I hadn¡¯t known about that event. It must have happened during the week while I was out living the dream in reality. Or month. It was hard to keep track of time, especially since the first thing I did every weekend was go get a bunch of drinks to keep me sauced for the weekend.

    ¡°What tree. Was that again?¡± StoneMason asked in his halting speech.

    ¡°The Tree of Woe. Resulting from my series of bad choices made while drunk beyond belief. Let that be a lesson. Don¡¯t drink and play.¡±

    ¡°You drink and play all the time. Besides, it¡¯s don¡¯t drink and drive,¡± Nemesis corrected. ¡°Not that the stupid AutoNavs will let you half the time. They get all cranky. Can¡¯t even drive if your license is an hour out of date.¡±

    ¡°Who drives anymore?¡± Johnny asked. ¡°I haven¡¯t driven since, the war. I think. That sound right Friday?¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    I did drive still but had no desire to point that out. Instead my shoulders came up in a tired shrug and I switched topics. ¡°Any sign of those bounty hunters?¡±

    ¡°Not a one. They pulled out of the area all together, those still alive, after they paraded through town with your head on a pike for two days. The city council found it funny enough to name a drink after you. Headless Fridays. Which is still better than Grove of Midnight, but someone mentioned adding tomatoes to the drink.¡± Johnny shuddered then brightened up. ¡°For four gold I¡¯ll get them to make it a different fruit. You seem like a pineapple man.¡±

    His rambling didn¡¯t help my situation. I got the feeling he¡¯d grown more comfortable with our small group because he acted less interested in making money for his get-rich-quick schemes. Or he realized we were all poor characters.

    StoneMason and Johnny discussed battle plans. Nemesis sort of paid attention to their conversation but yawned a lot. I worked on summoning the pack of misfit hounds. Out came the mongrels. Sarge first, he growled at me and sat down. Trap ran off immediately. Ball and Chain came out and laid down behind Sarge. Sleepy didn¡¯t even make it a foot before flopping over.

    Sarge barked. My back tensed and both cheeks hurt from the sudden frown. He was mad at me.

    ¡°Well. Hello to you too,¡± I said.

    Sarge turned his head to one side and lifted his nose.

    ¡°Who¡¯s hungry!¡± Johnny shouted.

    The dogs, minus the missing Trap, ran over to him. Sarge made it a point to face m to glance in my direction and happily ate at the treat¡¯s offered by my short, treacherous friend. I rolled my eyes and ignored the rest of their collective grumping from [Animal Understanding].

    Five of them gave me a stare that could have guilted statues. I tightened my lips and said, ¡°Guess they hate me. Nem, maybe you can get them working? They like you.¡±

    Nemesis shrugged. ¡°They¡¯ll get over it. Kids do. You will to.¡±

    ¡°Hopefully. At least long enough to make a go of this,¡± I said. ¡°If we figure out how to fight it, then I can check off one part of my stupid quest for redemption.¡±

    ¡°Nothing like having other people do the heavy lifting.¡± She smiled happily. ¡°As Rose would say, we¡¯re going to carry you.¡±

    Healing counted for something. I nodded. ¡°Right. Johnny and I, we¡¯re lovers not fighters.¡±

    Johnny cheered.

    ¡°But I¡¯m here to help.  Never leave a soldier behind!¡± Johnny held up an arm with a steak. His short form was immediately lost in a pile of leaping dogs. On their hind legs, the dogs easily were taller than Johnny. They¡¯d gotten so big compared to the tiny mutts they were before.

    ¡°Get rid of the tree. Then I can work on breaking Dari¡¯s curse. Then, whatever¡¯s next.¡± My quest log had a list of suggestions.

    ¡°So, I dryad at the tree. You druid at it. The puppies doggy all over it.¡± She snorted.

    StoneMason groaned like a rockslide clattered down the mountain. ¡°That¡¯s not how you plan a boss fight.¡±

    ¡°So?¡± Nem asked.

    Rose¡¯s body faded into being nearby. She yawned then started stretching from one side to the other.

    StoneMason explained a couple of different strategies. He suggested that Nem¡¯s plant control would be used to hem in the monster. StoneMason intended to do pure damage because he assumed the [Tree of Woe] would fixate on me. I was told I needed to run while throwing out [Lightning Bolts] to stun the creature. The dogs would probably be used as minor damage while I ¡®kited¡¯ the boss around our yard.

    They were all better ideas then my own. I didn¡¯t plan combat and never had. Even my most active character had run through the battlefield in search of people to drag away. I didn¡¯t like the idea of jogging.

    They talked about special moves. I tuned out. They brought up places to kite the boss over. I sort of paid attention. They asked me if I could heal and flee at the same time and my shoulders lifted in a shrug. ¡°Not much choice, I guess?¡±

    ¡°Friday doesn¡¯t run,¡± Rose said with a frown.

    StoneMason rubbed his dry scalp and sighed. ¡°What other skills do you have Friday?¡±

    ¡°I hold my liquor like a champion.¡±

    ¡°No, you don¡¯t,¡± Nem responded.

    ¡°Like a runner up? Bronze at least. Tell me I place.¡±

    She smiled and I felt stupidly giddy. ¡°Maybe. After this we¡¯ll find out.¡±

    ¡°Deal.¡±

    Rose cleared her throat. ¡°Please. Stop. I swear to god if I have to hear anything.¡± She shook her head violently and paused speaking for a full five seconds. ¡°Anything, about you two together I may just throw up in my mouth. After I stab you in the balls. And don¡¯t think I won¡¯t. It¡¯s not even a crime in here and you can heal from it.¡±

    My eyebrows tightened. ¡°Ouch.¡±

    She held up both daggers. ¡°Twice. I¡¯ll stab you twice.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not how I raised you,¡± Nem said with both fists on her hips.

    Rose¡¯s eyes fluttered. ¡°Mom, I¡¯ve been warning your boyfriends for years.¡±

    StoneMason¡¯s baby face went wide as the mother and daughter argued. His pupils dilated and leg twitched. The poor kid personified deer in headlights and they weren¡¯t even talking to him.

    Johnny whispered something toward the taller man¡¯s ear. StoneMason looked down and nodded rapidly then they both tip-toed over toward me. I stepped back slightly to give us room away from the arguing ladies. I considered myself a well traveled man, but there were places I didn¡¯t belong. Getting between Rose and Nem would me in trouble and I still had vague hopes that I¡¯d click with Nemsis. If she looked even vaguely the same in real life, and we still got along, then there might be a future there.

    I entertained the moment of hope while StoneMason and Johnny both pretended to hide behind me. One short person looking around my legs, which a much taller one peering out from behind my shoulders. I held still and let the comedians do their thing before the two started laughing.

    Eventually I joined in, but we all were much quieter than the girls.

    ¡°Who¡¯s watching their kid?¡± I asked Johnny.

    ¡°One of those nanny robots I guess?¡± He shrugged. ¡°They said the little tyke¡¯s sleeping. Maybe or they loaded his milk with a pinch of rum. Your grandma ever do that? Mine did.¡±

    Grandma had not. In fact, grandma hadn¡¯t been around at all. I had no idea about any of my relatives and had never bothered to look after getting out of the military.

    StoneMason frowned. ¡°Can¡¯t do that. To kids. It¡¯s wrong.¡±

    ¡°Is it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes. Friday.¡± Johnny¡¯s eyes were wide and shiny, like a cartoon gopher. ¡°It¡¯s on those flashcards they give idiots. Don¡¯t put a baby in the washing machine. Cradle them, don¡¯t hang them upside down. Don¡¯t get them drunk.¡±

    Johnny had been the one telling us his grandma slipped him rum. I smiled, ¡°When did you become a baby expert?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s common sense,¡± he responded.

    ¡°Uhh,¡± StoneMason said slowly. ¡°Sorry. I said anything. Can I look at your spells? I need to know. What you can do. You too. If that¡¯s alright Mister DapperSeed.¡±

    ¡°No problem Rockhead.¡±

    ¡°Please stop. Calling me that,¡± StoneMason said.

    ¡°Five gold a day,¡± Johnny responded. ¡°For ten gold a day, I¡¯ll call you whatever you want.¡±

    ¡°Skills and spells, please?¡±

    It took a bit for me to figure out the game¡¯s interface and let him see my abilities. It was that or explain all of them and that sounded horrible. I barely understood half of them myself. They¡¯d been a mess since the [Legacy] system triggered. They¡¯d continue to be a cluster until I stared over with some completely fresh character. Then I could work on complicated skills like [Chewing] and [Walking].

    StoneMaos perused an endless wall of text from my character. The arguing girls grew quiet. Nemesis stood with her arms crossed staring toward the [Tree of Woe]. Rose was nowhere to be seen. Her [Stealth] skills must have improved because I had zero idea where she went.

    Johnny dug through his backpack then pulled out ragged ribbons. ¡°I¡¯m going to go set up some of those traps we stole from the bounty hunters. I haven¡¯t figured out how to mark them yet. Maybe a rag? What colors do you like Friday? The brown is cheap but doesn¡¯t stand out for shit. Red costs a lot, purple¡¯s right out of your budget.¡±

    A hand pressed against my chest and my jaw dropped. ¡°How do you know what I can afford?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s easy. You have no money, therefore, no budget. You earn and burn it all on beer.¡±

    He had me dead to rights. I switched to defense. ¡°it¡¯s not real money anyway.¡±

    ¡°So, on this date we may or may not have, I¡¯m buying?¡± Nemesis asked loudly. My face went red. We hadn¡¯t been far enough away for any real privacy in our conversation.

    Rose¡¯s form faded into view with her hands pressed together in prayer. I blinked and tried to figure out if she¡¯d been there the entire time. ¡°Voices above. Please make them stop flirting.¡±

    ¡°That kid¡¯s getting good,¡± Johnny whispered. ¡°She must have been there the whole time and I didn¡¯t even notice.¡±

    StoneMason continued to read my skills and ignored us.

    Nemesis waved her hand. Vines crawled up from the ground with purple flower tips and waggled along with her. ¡°Stop bothering the Voices. I¡¯m sure they¡¯re busy with some Machiavellian plot and don¡¯t have time for us.¡± Lifted her other hand up and shuddered. ¡°At least I hope they are. Remember last time? Though I can¡¯t see how any other plans could be worse.¡±

    Rose¡¯s eyes fluttered in annoyance. ¡°No, mom. I¡¯m sure it can¡¯t get worse. But I¡¯m lucky, uncle is listening and will give us a fight. I want to get a battle in before the boy wakes up.¡±

    She must have meant her son. Calling him the boy felt wrong, but it was probably one of the real life factors Continue Online liked to cover up. The game sometimes censored stuff for us automatically. Thought why it let my day job slip but cared enough to hide Rose¡¯s son¡¯s name was beyond me.

    ¡°You¡¯re obsessed. Take up pottery,¡± Nemesis suggested. ¡°It worked for me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s great mom. I want to stab things. Maybe next month I can take up woodworking. Your boyfriend¡¯s good at it.¡±

    Finding myself pulled into the conversation, I went with simple agreement. ¡°I am.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Nemesis said.

    Rose¡¯s eyes fluttered in annoyance. She glared up at the sky. ¡°Are we going to talk all night again, or are you going to give me something to fight?¡±

    The Voices might not have heard her question, but the [Tree of Woe] that had been minding its business while we chatted away, did. The ground rolled suddenly as a minor earthquake sent dirt and our party flying. Everyone ended on their rears except StoneMason.

    ¡°That¡¯s bad,¡± he said calmly. ¡°Rank seven earthquake. From this far. At least.¡±

    ¡°Finally,¡± Rose muttered.

    We got back up. The [Tree of Woe] shuttled across the landscape on thick roots that resembled tentacles. Three huge bare branches spread out like arms with stick-claws at the end. Faces on it¡¯s bark screamed loudly.

    ¡°What was the plan?¡± Nemesis asked.

    Rose waved her arms. ¡°Mom, vines on Dapper¡¯s traps! Johnny, scout us a path around the house. We¡¯ll do laps if we survive long enough. Go.¡±

    ¡°Bossy,¡± Nemisis muttered. ¡°Wonder who you got that from.¡± She left anyway, followed by Johnny. Or maybe Johnny had run off. Our small party of five was rapidly vanishing and barely had enough liquor in me to focus.

    ¡°I¡¯ll,¡± StoneMason started to give himself orders but Rose waved it off.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare throw those idiot trees at it, it eats wood to heal, that¡¯s why the orchard is gone. Use that stump ripping ability you got on it¡¯s roots when it moves.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± StoneMason said dumbly. ¡°Why hasn¡¯t it-¡°

    ¡°I don¡¯t have time to care. Go!¡±

    StoneMason ran off.

    ¡°Friday,¡± Rose said.

    ¡°Mmmhm?¡± I hummed happily.

    ¡°Run.¡±

    My eyebrows scrunched together. ¡°Mmhm?¡±

    ¡°Go.¡±

    The ground rumbled. Rose turned her head quickly to look toward the [Tree of Woe]. It¡¯d been less than a minute and the boss had cleared half the distance. We were lucky the courtyard was that huge. I half hoped undead wasps would show up and hunt for wood but none did.

    ¡°Stone, grapple the roots! Work on the Titan Wrestler skill.¡± She turned toward me and waved again. ¡°Go!¡±

    The shrill sound of doom echoed. I glanced over to see a dozen half broken faces with wide open mouths. A chorus of screams rolled as

    StoneMason launched straight for a root that was thicker than Rose¡¯s waist. Vines sprouted and spiraled up then along one of the [Tree of Woe]s branch arms. The monster¡¯s form slowed but showed no care for the creatures hampering it.

    I sighed heavily, chugged a mug of beer, then swayed a winding path near the inner wall. The dogs were off doing whatever. My staff wouldn¡¯t do much good. I traced out a heal and threw it down in front of me. Soggy ground solidified as grass sprouted. It cracked quickly as a tendril from the [Tree of Woe] snaked by, plowing the earth.

    ¡°Faster!¡± Rose yelled. ¡°That thing¡¯s quick. Watch the leading vines.¡±

    The ground shook. Sudden booms rattled the wall and pounded at my eardrums. I refused to turn around and kept going forward. Sarge barked with worry. Despite our earlier issues, they were apparently already over it.

    ¡°Sorry guys,¡± I told him. ¡°Do what you can.¡±

    Ball and Chain growled unhappily from nearby. I caught sight of their tails as they dove behind me to fight the [Tree of Woe]. I threw a heal over my shoulder and hoped it¡¯d help them.

    Wooden thuds came one after the other. ¡°Sixty feet!¡± Rose shouted as a warning.

    It¡¯d been half a football field away moments ago. It¡¯d get me soon and this wasn¡¯t even the worst of it. I tensed up and the beer I¡¯d chugged didn¡¯t help.

    ¡°Forty! Stone, work the damn roots. Mom, vines.¡±

    Her shouts made me hunch harder. The [Staff of Thaddaeus] reached out to give me stability so I could hobble along. My body felt fine, but my mind numbed the closer the [Tree of Woe] got.

    ¡°Thirty five.¡± Rose said.

    They had slowed it down, but it¡¯d grown too close. Visions started and my eyesight warped wildly. Into the wall I went.

    ¡°What¡¯s. Happening?¡± StoneMaso¡¯s voice wavered.

    ¡°Mental attack.¡± One of the women said.

    Which one got buried as a chorus of angry girls yelled curses. Indistinct words came from every direction. Harsh deep tones were lifted shrill bits of outrage to new heights.

    ¡°Thirty.¡± Rose¡¯s voice pierced the cacophony for a moment. ¡°Anything?¡±

    My chin fell toward my chest and the ground grew abruptly closer.

    The spirit of every relationship gone wrong thudded nearby. A drag of its arm sounded like keys on my car. The wall shuddered in a crack like a brick through the windshield. I heard children screaming because mommy was upset and I was leaving.

    Something popped into my line of sight. I swung my staff. The ground kept shaking while I gave up my attempted indifference. The [Tree of Woe] scared me. This whole idea had been stupid. Messages were popping up left and right. I was failing some sort of system check. Failing miserably as the colors intensified from yellow, to red, to a deep black that might have swallowed up all life.

    I fumbled for another drink and struggled to remember none of those flashes were real.

    ¡°You coward!¡± it yelled.

    ¡°Yes,¡± I shouted back abruptly.

    My response set the tree into overdrive. Soil from all around flew into the air. Roots wiggled everywhere. StoneMason¡¯s body swung by overhead, his arms grabbed tightly around a root that didn¡¯t give a crap about his presence.

    I took two deep breathes, stumbled forward, and threw out a heal. My small parties health bars bounced up and down. I shook my head and ignored the thick solid sounds behind me. They reminded me of mortal shells.

    With that thought the delusions from the [Tree of Woe] attacked again.

    ¡°Mills! Get Bandit back into cover!¡±

    Gunfire rattled abruptly. My commanding officer stood there, stupefied as a red stain blotted along the cloth. Next to me, Bandit¡¯s stitching ripped. I couldn¡¯t fix them. I was a failure from a long line of them.

    My eyes shut tightly to wash away the vision.

    ¡°Friday,¡± someone shouted.

    I waved Rose away. StoneMason¡¯s grip slipped and the [Tree of Woe] slung him across the distance. A dagger clanged off the trunk. Purple flower tipped vines snapped from around the branches.

    Less than a minute after we started, the [Tree of Woe] had brushed off everyone in the party and loomed overhead. I fought to ignore the sounds that reminded me of every terror I¡¯d faced over the years. The ARC device dialed into my brain, but it wasn¡¯t real.

    ¡°It¡¯s not real,¡± I mumbled.

    The [Tree of Woe] slithered on misshapen roots over to where I¡¯d fallened. It¡¯d won. It knew that I couldn¡¯t run anymore. The beer and my fall blurred my vision but I saw tracks of wetness along the wooden carvings. They¡¯d always been there. This monster I¡¯d created, cried every time it killed me. Even now, it sobbed.

    Claw like branches curled into a million tiny fists and pummeled my chest. My chest heaved to catch a quick breathe. I reached for the logout button but it didn¡¯t work. The second round hit my face. Battering away until an eye watered and clicked off.

    Everything spun. My chest stuttered to get in air. The beating paused. I wiped away the good eye to see what had happened.

    All five dogs stood between me and the [Tree of Woe]. They snarled in unison. Dozens of broken female faces carved into the wood snarled back.

    I took two more breathes determined they couldn¡¯t get hurt this easily on my behalf. Especially when the fight would be futile. I reached up to tap my interface and released the pack back to their grove. Ball and Chain faded immediately. Sleepy stumbled forward into nothingness. Trap leapt toward the [Tree of Woe] but never landed. Sarge¡¯s head whipped around. He whimpered even as he faded back into the either.

    I typed out a message to the others.

    Failed. Thanks for trying.

    That left me glaring weakly at the [Tree of Woe]. I could heal myself but it wouldn¡¯t get me back on my feet. I could try one of the [Lightning Bolt] spells but the monster was too close for it to be effective. I could blind it but those visions would remind me of all my failures again.

    It paused along with me, as if considering how I might fight back, then the faces went strangely calm. Down came the branches and my eyes closed tight. That Friday night, with barely a day¡¯s game time under my belt and not nearly enough beer in my belly, I died.

 Session 20 â€“ The Harder They Fall

    Saturday, I moped around the house dwelling on my abrupt failure. I¡¯d barged into combat and forgotten until too late, that getting close to the [Tree of Woe] came with side effects. The flashbacks with the ARC¡¯s feedback were literally crippling.

    The others should understand since dying to hard bosses was fairly common.

    I focused on how to solve the problem. My character needed some actual skills to run fast. Real me barely jogged at a steady pace. Age had robbed me of the desire to be a marathon goer. Plus, I¡¯d never been into that type of cardio. My interests lay elsewhere since high school, which brought me to Sunday and my pending date with Nemesis.

    I logged on and immediately got the jitters. The grove was sunny and that couldn¡¯t be a good sign. The [Tree of Woe] still sat on my quest log as a problem. Nemesis had left another note on the alter.

    Looking forward to tonight! But clean up first. And try not to die? I know it hurts.

    She had a good point. With Continue Online¡¯s realism, being dirty probably wouldn¡¯t end well. Dying¡¯s pain bothered me less than being a walking mud pile for our date. Even if our races and paths encouraged a certain amount of communion with nature, being filthy and foul would still be unattractive. Though, upon thinking about it, Nemesis never smelled bad.

    I ventured to the river on an untracked mission of [Don¡¯t Look Like a Hobo]. There I took the longest in game bath I¡¯d taken in months and tried to figure out how to brush my teeth using herbs. The scruffy beard on my character was trimmed down to the neatest mess I could manage. The dogs even helped me find some pretty flowers.

    We met outside the only bar in town. Dozen¡¯s of players streamed past us, along with a few Locals were going about their evenings. I didn¡¯t pay them much attention because Nemesis looked far better than I did. She wore a bark ¡°little black dress¡±. It curved perfectly around a body I had to blink twice at. My lips puckered briefly in barely repressed appreciation.

    Nemesis struck first, pointing at my outstretched bouquet of flowers. ¡°Those are adorable. And weird. We shouldn¡¯t pluck flowers, right? But the trimmed beard is cute.¡±

    ¡°I was going for roguishly attractive. And I can replant them. I think.¡±

    ¡°Those clothes aren¡¯t even vaguely roguish,¡± she smiled.

    My cheeks flushed briefly. ¡°But attractive is still up for debate?¡±

    ¡°Maybe.¡±

    The pre-date banter was going great. I¡¯d been around the block to know that was important.

    ¡°Well, I would have picked better clothes but my pants selection is nonexistent. I¡¯ve got like four pairs, all cotton, and none of them have a thread count worth mentioning.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± She laughed, making the bark shake exactly like a dress would have.

    Nemesis had slipped up and given into to mirth. That was a win on my end. My pulse quickened but I managed to keep a hopefully charming smile.

    ¡°Ready for that drink?¡± I asked.

    She hummed then nodded.

    In the history of all my misbegotten relationships, hums and nods went either way. She hadn¡¯t tried to escape or phone a friend yet. Rose hadn¡¯t shown up to stab me. Those were good signs.

    Later, after the sun had ditched us and three moons hung above, we slowly walked the dirt path toward the Grove of Midnight. Liquid courage made my mind venture into dangerous questions. Personal topics were sometimes taboo for women on a date.

    I coughed as we stepped through a stone archway that marked the end of the free logging area. ¡°The grove part I get. Why the midnight part?¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s my favorite time. No one else is awake. No one else is moving. Just me. Plus I get really, really horny.¡±

    I looked left, right, then up at the moon. ¡°Is it midnight?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s always midnight somewhere,¡± she said, then yanked me into her tree house. It was larger on the inside and I barely noticed as she pulled me toward a wall and laid a hungry kiss on my lips.

    Our night rapidly went to the next level. I even got that skill Johnny had been on about, much to Nemesis¡¯s delight. We stopped for a real-life break then reunited.

    Nemesis sat on a tree branch that curved like a chair. I sat close by, unsure of what distance to keep but perfectly willing to be closer. With the urgency gone, I took a real look around. Her abode in the game seemed like a tiny house. The tree itself had unnaturally smooth walls but the bark showed no signs of being chipped or carved away. Somehow, it¡¯d grown perfectly.

    I shook my head. Of course, this was a game and we were in a magical location. This had to be her dryad tree. Naturally it didn¡¯t follow the normal rules.

    She eyed me over a cup of digital coffee and smiled. ¡°I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d enjoy that.¡±

    My eyes went wide and heart skipped a beat. Nemesis reached over then patted me on the arm. The mere touch sent goosebumps up my arm and across my bare chest. I should have been chilly but the air felt warm.

    ¡°Not you. You did great. I was talking about doing the deed here in a game. But I enjoyed it. Hell, I haven¡¯t had sex last that long in ages. Unless those were some fancy game skills?¡±

    I took a deep breath and smiled. ¡°No. That was all me. At the start. I guess I did a good job and got the actual skill too.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty good myself,¡± she said. ¡°Want me to prove it?¡± Only an idiot would have said no. Down went her drink as we picked up where we left off.

    Sunday ended on the best note it had in ages.

    For the next few weekends, we continued trying to bring down the seemingly unkillable [Tree of Woe]. It all ended the same way. The [Tree of Woe] couldn¡¯t be stopped. Nemesis fled. The dogs were unsummoned. Rose went down stabbing happily. StoneMason and I died.

    On our fourth boss failure, Nemesis suggested we take up jogging. We did that, and our dates continued to get better. We took breaks from the bed and bar to go out into sunlight together. The dogs joining us as we ran a lap around the woods.

    For another month in the real world, I ran in game. I ran out in the real world too. Dating a woman who got half my jokes, enjoyed sex, and had gotten past the child desiring stage did wonders for my energy levels. Middle age was looking up.

    Eventually the system popped up a message.

    Skill gained: [Runner] rank 3.

    Title gained: [The Running Man]

    For once the [Legacy] system worked in my favor. It helped that my prior Fridays had been invested in running or sneaking around. I opened our little group chat and posted a message.

    Friday: New title [The Running Man]. Should be able to kite it.

    DapperSeed: Finally. I¡¯ll tell the others. Maybe we can finally put this tree behind us and move on.

    Friday: Maybe. Madam LeCroy still isn¡¯t receiving visitors.

    DapperSeed: Fine. I¡¯m going to go take all those rings back then.

    Friday: No.

    Johnny argued with me. I stood firm on the theft. Those rings had gotten me closer to solving [Widow¡¯s Children].

    I¡¯d snuck past the evil tree a week ago and still gotten nowhere. The butler had been clear enough to say something would happen, but I needed to wait. Based on my vague knowledge of games and prior characters, ¡°please wait until the time is right¡± meant ¡°do something unique to trigger an event¡±.

    Part of me started to wonder if I should sneak into the master bedroom and see if that set anything off. I liked my current routine too much to risk upsetting the balance. Nemesis had it all. The grove did its thing. Dari hadn¡¯t dropped any bombshells, preferring to sleep. Even the dogs were getting along with me again.

    I kept jogging and practiced some spells StoneMason had put on my list. He wanted me to work on ranking up [Natural Inversion]. No one else was online so I wandered to the river with the dogs and sat down. Without the risk of bounty hunters this place had returned to its normal picturesque

    Nemesis: Still on for tonight?

    She still was interested in a date, despite my face looking darn ugly in game. The [Beat With Ugly Stick] could apparently be ignored. That meant something.

    Friday: Of course, after we try the tree again. I got a new skill and title ¨C hopefully they¡¯ll help. Then our grove will be in peace and StoneMason can stop being forced to rebuild the wall.

    Nemesis: Sounds good! :) Do you need me?

    Friday: Only in the worst way

    Nemesis: Ha. For the Tree? The vines aren¡¯t doing much good and I haven¡¯t figured out anything else. Your quest is too hard. I still can¡¯t believe you carved out all those faces and the game made it a boss monster.

    Friday: I guess.

    Nemesis: I wonder if I carved all my ex¡¯s faces onto a tree, would it become evil and try to murder people? Maybe I should tell it we¡¯re banging. Do you think they¡¯d attack me instead?

    Friday: No good will come of our ex¡¯s battling it out.

    Nemesis: It¡¯d be a riot.

    I paused then shook my head. Nemesis had dated a lot of guys over the years, so had I. If jealousy over ex¡¯s really bothered me, I¡¯d never make it anywhere in life. One of the many things I¡¯d learned over the years, don¡¯t ever get hung up on the prior relationships. Especially if the breakups were bad.

    Nemesis: My tree would win, but I can run a lot faster than you do.

    Friday: No, you can¡¯t.

    Nemesis: Then why are you always behind me when we jog?

    Friday: Guess.

    Competing against her in running had far less attraction than watching her bounce along in front of me. The dogs often got in the way but the few glimpses I¡¯d get, coupled with her smiling face when she turned around to see me ¡°being slow¡± were completely worth it.

    Nemesis: I¡¯ll get Rose on then. She¡¯s been a bit better about taking breaks. The dialation helps and he¡¯s napping for hours at a time. Better than the first few months. /shudder

    I smiled at the message box but felt a bit out of sorts. Nemesis wasn¡¯t the one with a child, but it still sort of bothered me.

    Fridays: Kids are tough.

    Nemesis: You never thought about having any?

    Almost every woman I¡¯d dated wanted children, had children that were still young, or I¡¯d screw up some other way and our dating life would be over. She¡¯d been great so far and there was a certain beauty in dating older woman.

    Regardless, pessimism struck and my eyelids winnowed at the text box. I¡¯d learned it was better to be up front with these things as some women considered them deal breakers. Honesty won out.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    Friday: No. Got snipped during boot camp. Didn¡¯t want any little me¡¯s running around.

    Nemesis: Why?

    ¡°How do I handle this?¡± I mumbled. ¡°One wrong step and I¡¯ll be doomed.¡±

    The overgrow puppies never answered my mumbling with real words. Sarge¡¯s head tilted to one side. Sleepy yawned. [Animal Understanding] only provided a general sense of hunger, confusion, and sleepiness. Plus, there was this vague sensation of stalking of a small critter with wings.

    I looked around to make sure Dari hadn¡¯t escaped, and that he wasn¡¯t being hunted by Trap. That trouble seeking dog had a different winged creature version cornered on a tree trunk. The fact that they left Dari alone had to mean something. All of those thoughts worries were my way of putting off an immediate response. I typed out my default answer.

    Friday: Seemed better for the world, especially since I didn¡¯t know when I¡¯d ship out or if I¡¯d live.

    Nemesis: Makes sense. After Rose I decided I was done too. No more kids. I kind of miss the option, but there¡¯s no way I¡¯d try to do the single parent thing again

    Poor Rose. She was surviving the single parent life. A few of those I¡¯d dated had as well. They always looked tired. My excuse of not wanting to die in the service had validation too. My commander who hadn¡¯t made it, well he¡¯d had three kids who were abruptly fatherless. That was my fault because keeping them alive had been my job.

    The thought hit abruptly. My chest tensed and I took deep ragged breathes. Almost two decades later and it still made me shake. Sarge nuzzled my arm. I scratched his head and watched the river for a moment before pulling up my window to see Nemesis¡¯s response.

    Nothing stood out. She¡¯d meet us at [Widow¡¯s Children] for another attempt. I thought about the name and my old commander. I thought about that little, cursed ghost girl who¡¯d only been searching for her dad. Once again, I resolved myself to help lift the instance and maybe give them a measure of peace.

    I closed out my chat window. I¡¯d mostly kept it open for Nemesis to log into the game. Now that we had made our plans, I could go back to ignoring the group messages.

    The dogs and I took our weekly bath. Monthly if we went by game time. After that I led the dogs to their den, left the forest, and summoned their spirit bodies. We jogged toward [Widow¡¯s Children].

    The other four were already waiting. The hair footed halfling sat on a chair that might have been stolen from the bar. He spun a slow circle. Rose leaned against a wall and only moved to cover her mouth briefly.

    Rose saw me, waved, then shook her head. She stopped then rubbed her eyes. ¡°Time to get going? Great. I¡¯m falling asleep standing here. I¡¯m only here to go gloriously against that thing.¡±

    Johnny nodded at me, then stopped spinning. He swiveled slowly to face Rose. ¡°How are you so happy dying to this over and over? I mean, it got me once ate pulled an arm off. I¡¯ll tell you, I hate combat. Unless I¡¯m paid enough.¡±

    She snorted. ¡°It reminds me of raid bosses on she-who-shall-not-be-named. I love the challenge of something beyond my rank, then beating it into the ground. The rewards are great. The skill increase will be absolutely huge. Dying may set me back but it¡¯s not enough to stress about.¡±

    Johnny shook his head.

    ¡°If we can murder this today, or even next weekend, I¡¯ll gain a solid three ranks in knifework. I¡¯m sure of it. More maybe. Footwork with maybe an unlock like wood surfing. Sneak on trees. You know how rare it is to backstab a tree? I might even be able to unlock a hidden path. I mean, that thing has to be at least a rank fifteen party boss.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    She nodded and bounced onto tip toes. ¡°At least.¡±

    They rambled on and on about all the possible character gains. That reminded me of my own unused swath of abilities.

    I pulled up the spells StoneMason had been trying to get me to use before. [Natural Inversion] reversed the spell following it. That¡¯d take a healing spell and turn it into a rot or shadow damage ability. Ranking up higher would probably impact a second, third, or fourth spell. Doing it enough and combining it with other effects might let me go into negative healer mode.

    Between working on running, dating Nemesis, the dogs, and dying; I hadn¡¯t had a chance to sit down and work on new combinations. It¡¯d take me weeks in game to make real progress. Sex had far more appeal.

    Hands grabbed my rear. I took it in stride and turned. Nemesis had arrived, looking gorgeous as always.

    ¡°Ready to get torn limb from limb by the angry spirits of every girl¡¯s heart you¡¯ve ever broken?¡±

    I was, but it sounded wrong when she spoke about it so nonchalantly. ¡°You know, it¡¯s terrible when you put it like that.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t like your current squeeze killing your old ones? I¡¯ve met wilder girls. One of my friends, she plays, but she actually broke into her boyfriends home after she found him back with his wife, burned the face out of every picture of her, and scratched out ¡®the best pussy you¡¯ll never have again¡¯ on his couch.¡±

    I glanced at Rose. She stuck a dagger part way down her throat and pretended to gag. Johnny glowered then pushed off the wall to start spinning again.

    ¡°It¡¯s weird.¡± I didn¡¯t comment on what her girlfriend had done. I¡¯d probably dated women of the same caliber.

    ¡°I guess it is weird. Doesn¡¯t bother me, I pride myself on being a great catch myself. But if you cross me, I get to kill you! How great is this game?¡±

    I could see where Rose got her attitude from now. There¡¯d been plenty of hints along the way but hearing it out on the open actually made me laugh. Plus, she¡¯d been one of the better girls, by a mile. She had energy, drive, and the dogs got along great with her.

    My brain could go in happy circles when thinking about all the ways Nemesis might actually work out. Those positive thoughts were chased by a budding realization that we were simply in the new love stage. In a few more months, we might be at each other¡¯s throats. She¡¯d kill me after we broke up.

    Nemesis whispered in my ear, ¡°We take this tree down, and I¡¯ll take you back to the grove and prove to you I¡¯m the best you¡¯ll ever have.¡±

    That¡¯d be a serious challenge but I¡¯d be willing to sacrifice my time so she could try. Especially since internet anonymity meant no breaking and entering to ruin my only good piece of furniture.

    ¡°We do this, and I¡¯ll show you a few tricks I¡¯ve been saving,¡± I responded.

    ¡°Deal.¡±

    Our relationship clearly revolved around sex. Neither of us had a problem with that. She practically glowed, and I took a steadying breath and replayed all we¡¯d learned from the last few weekends.

    The [Tree of Woe] only had tree tricks. Vines that pulled people down. A mental attack. The screeching wail of a million banshees. We¡¯d made more progress every attempt but once that monster got close enough to me, I fell victim to the mental attacks. [The Running Man] should help. It gave me a bonus to speed while in combat. It¡¯d been the missing piece.

    StoneMason walked over slowly. His body had grown bulkier over the last few months of yanking tree roots. The kid¡¯s [Brawn] had probably soared. ¡°Friday.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t figure it out.¡±

    ¡°Damn.¡± He huffed. ¡°There¡¯s an answer. There. In those spells. Lightning. Shadow. Mixed. Inverted Shadow spells would be. Light. Can, invert curse. Maybe.¡±

    ¡°Maybe next time. But I can kite better now so we can stop dragging this out.¡±

    ¡°Finally.¡± Rose sighed. ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s go clear it out. We¡¯ll send a message when we¡¯re ready.¡±

    Rose and StoneMason were free to roam the field and clear out other monsters. That was her preferred method of recovering skills lost from the dead penalty. StoneMason had kept getting stronger since the tree couldn¡¯t kill him. His tank like body had been battered against every part of the lawn but the [Tree of Woe] left him on the verge of death.

    Johnny went about setting traps. Nemesis and I entertained ourselves. By the time Rose and StoneMason cleared all the little monsters, I started walking funny. They returned in time to see me adjusting my pants and Nemesis smirking like she¡¯d won something.

    ¡°Do I want to know?¡± Rose asked.

    ¡°We¡¯re all adults.¡±

    ¡°Some of us use rooms.¡±

    Nemesis snorted. ¡°Please. Remember your last-¡°

    ¡°Mom!¡± Rose shouted.

    That left my tormenter roaring with laugher. Rose fumed. StoneMason rubbed his bald head and blinked slowly. Johnny glowered. I nodded calmly pretended to find the large rusted gates extremely interesting.

    They weren¡¯t.

    ¡°Got your path picked out?¡± Nemesis asked me.

    ¡°Along the wall like before. My autopilot¡¯s been sneaking in and leveling the ground out to make things easier. Plus, it gets back my skills after death.¡±

    There were a few patches of the instance that had been bumpy, hard to run on, and torn up. Though I detested autopilots, it¡¯d been strangely uneventful every week since we started this crusade. At worst, I¡¯d get a message that my autopilot died and the [Tree of Woe] had calmed down.

    Everything had to be ready. I had a clear enough path. Traps were set. Nemesis¡¯s vines were stronger and more agile than ever. The [Tree of Woe] couldn¡¯t catch her. StoneMason¡¯s arms were practically trunk shattering weapons.

    I could run like heck. I¡¯d even picked up an ability that helped my heals land. [Guiding Seed of Light] was a weird ability that let me mark people for my heals to fly to. Untouched, they lasted about two hours before turning into small white flowers that reminded me of Lilys. Until then, I could send out any healing spell I wanted and it would swerve toward one a [Guiding Seed of Light]. The downside was the seeds absorbed about half the actual healing as part of their nourishment.

    ¡°Hold on. Let me get the pack and anchors out.¡±

    StoneMason¡¯s bobbed. ¡°Mages get those too. Can¡¯t remember. The name.¡±

    ¡°Soul markers. There¡¯s a few versions. Ever seen a Necromancer use them?¡± Rose and StoneMason shuddered in unison. ¡°She gross,¡± she finished.

    ¡°You¡¯d think. Those would be. Baseline skills. Why is it. So hard at lower. Ranks?¡±

    Rose shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s about earning skills and proving that it¡¯s really what you want to do. Can you imagine the chaos if everything came easy? There¡¯d be rank twenty mage-warrior-blacksmith-rogue-ninja, whatever hybrids that did it all.¡±

    ¡°That sounds. Cool.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d be neat but Continue Online,¡± Rose¡¯s explanation turned into mumbling as Nemesis got in closer.

    My hands were cupped as I held still. This spell didn¡¯t require tracing a rune or anything else. After a minute, while the others had babbled back and forth, the spell for my [Guiding Seed of Light] started. Specs formed like rolling sweat beads dripping to the center of my cupped hands. They grew in size as white and green special effects turned bits of light into glowing marble sized objects.

    I waited until the light show dimmed then threw the mess in the air. Instead of landing on the ground like regular seeds might, these veered straight toward all the nearby people. One to each party member, and another set for the dogs. Of all the spells I¡¯d learned in the game, this was the prettiest.

    Sarge sniffed around while the others grumbled. They were getting tired of this place weekend after weekend.

    Nemesis eyed her shoulder where the mote of light hand landed. She pressed fingers over it and a flower sprouted out of her bark clothing. ¡°Better actually run. If you¡¯re slow like when jog, that tree will still catch you.¡±

    I smirked. ¡°Relax. I¡¯ve got this.¡±

    For the first time in ages, I felt like that¡¯d been the truth. This was possible. We¡¯d defeat the tree, mark the quest completed, and Nemesis and I would go on a victory lap around the bed, or table, or chairs. Whatever happened to be available.

    The others got in position. Nemesis walked calmly toward the mansion. StoneMason and Rose would come in from behind. A vague sensation from [Animal Understanding] told me the freshly summoned pack was ready, and hungry. Very hungry. I made a note to go earn some food in exchange for heals sometime between all my other goals.

    I made sure the [Regeneration] runes were in place on the others. My own [Stealth] runes were removed to give me more mana for the others. A [Rune Smith] path could support more at one time but I¡¯d neglected that skill too.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have all weekend.¡± Johnny said.

    Both cheeks lifted with a smile. ¡°I know. Thanks.¡±

    My short companion looked around quickly. The others were in position so we had a bit of privacy. He said, ¡°I¡¯m going to be serious for a minute. You and the dryad seem to be hitting it off surprisingly well.¡±

    I nodded then glanced toward StoneMason and Rose. They were chatting peacefully out in the field, waiting for the [Tree of Woe] to come cruising past them.

    ¡°If you two get married, I¡¯m your best man. And I¡¯ll even do it for free.¡±

    I snorted. We weren¡¯t even thinking of marriage, in game or out of it. We were simply two adults being annoying and having a great time. Johnny¡¯s offer to do something for free touched me deeply. ¡°Alright.¡±

    ¡°But if you break up afterward, you owe me two thousand gold.¡±

    Any budding tension melted as I laughed and waved him off. He nodded then

    We were going to do this.

    I took a breath, puffed out my cheeks then bounced up and down. The [Staff of Thaddious] stayed in inventory. It proved useless in surviving the mental attacks and running. Another moment passed as I built myself up, then off I went, along the wall with a slow jog.

    The [Tree of Woe] noticed me entering the mansion grounds right away. Ball and Chain dashed past me toward the monster. StoneMason grabbed a root that went flying by him. I turned my attention away and concentrated on keeping a steady pace.

    [The Running Man] gave me unlimited stamina while running, but it lowered my maximum speed. It¡¯d help since my main problem was losing steam a few minutes into my flight. I shook it off, threw out a [Edge of Sunrise] heal toward StoneMason, and celebrated as the spell energy curved around me off toward the weaker party members. It was a smaller heal over time that didn¡¯t splash over the entire area like half my other abilities.

    That had been StoneMason¡¯s idea. With targeted heals I didn¡¯t need to see, and ones that kept regenerating only one person at a time, I could easily manage. Everyone¡¯s improvements helped.

    ¡°Stay calm,¡± I told myself. ¡°It¡¯s just a jog.¡±

    Sarge barked orders. Ball and Chain dove on a far-reaching tendril shaped root. They clamped jaws around it then tumbled in a spiral that alligators would have been proud of.

    Everyone did their parts. I only needed to run and heal. ¡°I got this.¡±

    The mental attacks hadn¡¯t started. Nemesis¡¯s vines bent in a strange wave as I passed by. My last glimpse of them was purple dashing toward the monstrous tree. I kept jogging forward.

    Trap pointed his nose at a pitfall. I nodded then stepped over the small two foot gorge that someone had dug. Whittling down the boss proved slow. Familiar crunching sounds echoed as branches broke. The boss should be slowing to recover lost limbs and get its health back. I dared turn around.

    Rose¡¯s limber form hung from one hand off a high branch. Her feet kicked wildly at another part of the tree, sending small flakes of bark flaking off. Nemesi¡¯s purple vines had woven a path up one side of the creature¡¯s body. They were like pretty, murderous ivy plants.

    Large branches were being pulled by it¡¯s roots toward the tree¡¯s maw. That maw had nothing to do with the dozens of faces carved upon it¡¯s bark. They screamed, but at this distance, all it amounted to was creepy noise.

    ¡°I can do this.¡±

    We kept going. The dogs did their part. StoneMason¡¯s newfound [Brawn] kept slowing down the tree and ripping it apart, one thick root at time. Rose screamed, happily I assumed. Or angrily. Her health barely moved so that had to be a good sign

    They were a great crew to play this game with. They¡¯d been supportive and were helping. This Friday had found his place.

    Happy thoughts kept me going as I rounded the bend of the house¡¯s first half. They fought behind me, and I healed. All I ever needed to know how to do, was get away from the conflict, and heal. It worked in the army. It worked on my day job in dangerous situations. It worked in the game world.

    That was it. The game had become stupidly straight forward which meant something should go wrong. I took a deep breath, the latest in a line that went on at least ten minutes.

    The third time I turned around, or maybe fourth since I¡¯d lost track, the monster had gotten no closer than it started. Its limbs were nearly broken beyond repair. Any health it had dwindled to nearly zero. My lead stayed comfortable.

    Nemesis¡¯s vines covered every inch of the monster. It¡¯s face buried under plants that sapped it¡¯s strength. Rose stopped trying to get at the [Tree of Woe]. Her arms crossed in dissatisfaction. She glared at her mother.

    I cheered but turned back toward my path, keeping my distance in case this whole thing was a ruse. The tree might have an enrage attack when it¡¯s health got low, or some other weird game mechanic. It¡¯s be just like Continue Online to drop bad news after I thought we were clear.

    Nemesis: It¡¯s dying. It can¡¯t move.

    Friday: ???

    Nemsis: StoneMason got the last of it¡¯s limbs. He says it¡¯s completely immobile.

    The dogs were perplexed at the lack of fight. Or maybe I projected my own confusion over [Animal Understanding]. I stopped jogging and walked. Out came the [Staff of Thaddeus] to help support me. My legs felt sore enough to cry. That run had been boot camp all over again.

    I threw a healing spell on myself. Pain vanished, replaced by a pleasant tingling sensation that reminded me of mint-based ointments.

    Nemesis: Come back.

    Friday: Okay.

 Session 21 â€“ The Dryaded Ex.

    The entire way back nothing happened. I kept an eye on the dirt in case roots would shoot out and attack me. The dogs sniffed around in search of other monsters. Rose tapped a foot impatiently while biting her lower lip.

    Nemesis noticed first. ¡°It¡¯s speaking.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I got closer. The vines were receeding to reveal the battered and broken [Tree of Woe]. Bark had shattered. The core of the tree had rotted from the inside out.

    Nemesis had zero fear of my arch-foe. She knelt down touched the wood lightly with her green hands. ¡°I think I can understand it. But it¡¯s not like the other trees in our grove. It¡¯s, harsh. Not baby talk. Drunk maybe? Like pass out drunk where you can¡¯t really articulate. Like, really, really drunk.¡±

    I picked up a piece of dislodged bark. Half a face on it still retained enough life to speak. It reminded me of a mirror shard with some horror face talking. Soundless, creepy, and repeated dozens of times on other broken bits laying all over. Nemesis waved a hand and the vines gathered up some of the larger chunks, holding them until they were almost a full face.

    ¡°That¡¯s weird,¡± Nemesis responded. ¡°I can hear it. Because it¡¯s a tree? That almost makes sense.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Sometimes I forget this is a game.¡±

    My response was dry and in dire need of a drink. ¡°I try to remind myself of that when my hands are in someone¡¯s guts trying to hold their stomach in.¡±

    She stared at me with one of those dead expression faces that¡¯d told me I¡¯d overshared. I shrugged then pointed at the tree.

    ¡°They¡¯re last words,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s what people do when they die. They try to say something. Normally it¡¯s gibberish, or a person¡¯s name. Sometimes they ask about family that,¡± I drifted off then shuddered. ¡°Guess I carved a bit of humanity into it. Go me.¡±

    I didn¡¯t feel proud. It would have been better if the creature exploded into balls of light that turned into loot drops. There¡¯d been none of that so far.

    Rose shook her head and folded her arms across each other. ¡°You¡¯re a druid. You should listen to it too. You¡¯ll probably get a skill.¡±

    I stared at the piece in my hand. The bark crawled slowly, reminding me of a overweight body, gasping for air as they passed away. I pushed the thought aside and focused on listening. Rose had a point, [Druid] paths should be able to understand plants if we tried. It couldn¡¯t be weirder than knowing the dogs were hungry without looking at them.

    My body dropped. Nemesis sat back and put an arm on my leg. I barely noticed as a sound of rustling leaves grew louder.

    Trait [Natural Understanding] gained!

    I brushed the message aside and focused. Dog whimpers were pushed to one side. The sensation of Nemesis hand grabbing my leg faded. StoneMason and Rose drifted further into the background until all that remained was me and this wall of broken wood. The remaining cracked faces still sobbed.

    ¡°It¡¯s your fault,¡± the shard in my hand whispered.

    ¡°It is?¡± I questioned absently. My forehead tightened.

    ¡°You just ran.¡± The leaves whispered.

    I said nothing.

    ¡°You cow-¡° the partial face sized.

    It was gone. I stared blankly, remembering all the names I¡¯d heard for my horrible creation over the Fridays gone-by. Demon of the northern wastes. Harbinger of woe and other ill tidings. The [Tree of Woe] plagued me no more.

    Upon the ruined bark, faces grayed. Most of them had belonged to girls I barely remembered. Every single failed represented relationship that went sideways because I didn¡¯t want kids, couldn¡¯t handle them, and felt annoyed when someone spouted that kids were our hope for the future.

    ¡°We did it.¡± Nemesis stared at me and smiled briefly. ¡°But it seems wrong too.¡± She turned back to our defeated foe and crawled over the large trunk. Her fingers trailed along the bark¡¯s uneven surface, up and through the faded timeline of my past mistakes, all the way to the first face, where her finger stopped.

    It didn¡¯t worry me that Nemesis wanted to take a close look at all the faces of prior lovers. I didn¡¯t have any issues with her comparing to those gone before. Social media made the process even easier and if we were going to meet in real life, my past would have to be a somewhat open book.

    What bothered me, was the way her green skin paled to nearly white and her jaw dropped.

    I stood up and let Nemesis process her feelings. A second later I¡¯d brought up the quest text and noticed that it now showed [Remove Woe] from the [Tree of Woe] as complete. Below the crossed-out text sat a row of useless question marks.

    ¡°That didn¡¯t solve it,¡± I mumbled. My chest heaved from an abrupt sigh. Of course, defeating this ghost of my past couldn¡¯t be as simple as running around. I walked around trying to keep my legs from falling asleep.

    ¡°What¡¯s the loot?¡± StoneMason asked followed by Rose asking, ¡°What do you mean that didn¡¯t solve it? I demand skills.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t-¡° my words were cut off.

    ¡°Why does this look like me?¡± Nemesis shouted abruptly while stomping a thin leg.

    We all stopped to look at Nemesis. I blinked slowly and glanced at the giant, dead tree. Four dogs were leaping through the leaves and playing tog-o-war over the biggest branches. They kept getting between me and the tree stump. I sidestepped to get a better view on the [Tree of Woe]¡¯s remains. My gaze drifted back and forth between Nemesis and the bad carving of my first girlfriend.

    ¡°Oh Voices. He¡¯s thinking.¡± Johnny whistled slowly. ¡°This isn¡¯t going to end well.¡±

    ¡°This is my face!¡± she poked at it.

    ¡°No it isn¡¯t,¡± I said firmly.

    Her head tilted to one side and nostrils flared. ¡°I thought this tree was for your ex¡¯s?¡±

    We¡¯d discussed that point to death by now. ¡°It is,¡± I confirmed.

    I bent closer and studied the fragments. It might be some weird melodramatic quest. My tree contained all those past lovers and it stood to reason that she might be impacted by some ghost of ex-boyfriends from the same source.

    The faces that had been snarling at me before had none of their prior anger. They were strangely quiet and almost serene. They reminded me of the heavily sedated. A sort of slack expression that might be sleep, or possibly death.

    ¡°Why is my face up at the top?¡± She shook with barely suppressed rage. ¡°Is this some sort of sick joke? Are you fucking with me, or is it the game?¡±

    My blood ran cold for only a moment before I brushed it aside. There was literally no way for Nemesis to have that face, at all. That face belonged to a women from almost twenty years ago.w

    ¡°That¡¯s impossible. I don¡¯t know you in real life and hadn¡¯t met you in game until after I made this tree. Besides, you look nothing like that. You¡¯re way,¡± my attempts at rationalizing dripped away. She was green.

    I tried again, ¡°It has to be a game trick.¡±

    But if she didn¡¯t look green, then maybe. A bit around the eyes. The way she bit her lip. Only if she¡¯d managed to keep the exact same figure without an ounce of middle age weight. The girl from my memory, Liz, had kept herself in shape during high school. She¡¯d easily laughed at my dumb jokes like Nemesis did. Even the way she grinned was the same, like she caught me doing something funny and kind of naughty.

    Her eyes went wide. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be fucking kidding me.¡±

    Finally, I came back around to the biggest reason I never would have noticed. Nemesis looked like a hot woman wearing a sexy Halloween outfit. She looked like that regardless of what position we¡¯d ended up in over the last month of dating. Nemesis had a mole in the exact same spot on her inner thigh. It¡¯d been years, but I still remembered that mark on Liz.

    My brain short circuited. ¡°But you¡¯re green.¡±

    She must have been making the same connections as I had.

    ¡°Ken,¡± she said firmly. ¡°I can see it now. Even with the warped nose, those scars, I can see your damn face under all that. The same eyes. The same ones that Beth got.¡±

    I took a deep breath and fought back the budding panic. My throat dried and I gulped. ¡°Liz?¡± I responded with a far less sure tone. ¡°Liz Legate?¡±

    Her eye twitched.

    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°No.¡± My words grew stronger. ¡°No, it can¡¯t be. There¡¯s not possible,¡± reality dawned on me. My eyes tore away from Nemesis to her daughter, Rose. ¡°No. Fuck no!¡± I shouted the curse and winced but couldn¡¯t stop myself from rambling. ¡°Not possible. Not possible at all. Tell me it¡¯s not possible. The game¡¯s just messing with us.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    It wasn¡¯t. A violently flashing box nearly blinded me. I scanned the title, then did another double take and read the entire message.

    Event Notice!

    Woe To You

    You¡¯ve successful removed the [Spirit of Woe] from [Tree of Woe]. However, the [Spirit of Woe] has found a new vessel. A better vessel. One intrinsically tied to your wandering soul.

    This is probably bad for you.

    It couldn¡¯t be good. With every passing second it seemed more unlikely that Nemesis was another playing simply seeing some other version of the game world.

    A Traveler versus Traveler personalized event is now in effect. Actions taken here will impact all aspects of your life as a Traveler, regardless of the body you chose to take in the future. The [Curse of Nemesis] is now activated. This curse is effective across all universes tied to this one.

    ¡°What?¡± Traveler versus Traveler confused me for only a second. It likely meant Nemesis would be encouraged to kill me. My heartbeat sped up and the world stared to narrow. The edges of my sight blurred.

    Also, the LeCroy family will be charging you for damages. Actual totals pending assessment.

    I¡¯d been kicked while down. That would set me even further back on repayment and make my redemption plan impossible. I couldn¡¯t ponder it now and violently waved away the messages with both arms.

    ¡°How?¡± I didn¡¯t even have the energy to finish uttering my question. My head pounded and I automatically counted the beats. They sped up and thudding in my ears became yet another bad sign.

    Nemesis had no such restrictions. She¡¯d started cursing up a storm. Plants around her waved wildly and multiple vines spouted out of the ground. ¡°This is bull shit! I can¡¯t believe I let you fuck me again!¡±

    Too high. That¡¯s what my heartrate had reached. The ground kept tilting up at me and I couldn¡¯t get the [Staff of Thaddaeus] to stay in one place. I tried reason and put up a hand to signal defeat. ¡°I don¡¯t want to fight.¡±

    Nemesis stared off into space than wildly waved green arms through the air. ¡°Shut up! I don¡¯t need any god damn quest to tell me to kick his ass. Of course, I¡¯m going to. Twenty years of hell. Then this. This un-fucking-mitigated steaming pile of horse shit!¡±

    She proceeded to rant at the sky. Rose simply stared at us. She might not have reached the conclusion I had. I hoped at least that much was wrong, but I knew. I was a damn doctor. I knew Liz¡¯s features combined with mine might look like. Rose was it. A bit dirtier. Ragged hair. Her chin and nose were mine.

    ¡°I know this is your fault Hermes! You let me sleep with this asshole again. You know I hate him. You know what he put me through!¡±

    My legs grew shaky. The thought rolled back around as I thought about Liz¡¯s age. Mine. Roses and their kids. Liz had been pregnant when I¡¯d joined the service. Rose was her daughter. The timing fit.

    My head couldn¡¯t keep two thoughts strung together long enough for them to make sense. I needed an out from that circle of hell. ¡°Who are you talking to?¡±

    Sarge whimpered nearby. My fingers reached out to scratch his head, an action that would calm him down. Not me. I was fine. But none of the dogs were anywhere nearby. That stood between Nemesis and I, heads swiveling back and forth in unison.

    ¡°You okay Friday?¡± Johnny asked.

    The answer was no. I tried to convince us anyway. ¡°I¡¯m not panicking. I¡¯m calm. I¡¯m perfectly fine.¡±

    ¡°We should go,¡± StoneMason said.

    Nemesis waved wildly. ¡°Hermes? Where the fuck are you!¡± she shouted at the sky again.

    ¡°Mom?¡± Rose asked.

    StoneMason wasn¡¯t staring at Nemesis. He watched Rose with a pale face. ¡°Relationship sharding.¡± His granite body shook with each thudding step away. ¡°We should run now. Far, far away.¡±

    ¡°You guys can¡¯t log out?¡± Johnny asked.

    He shook his head. I tried but found the button didn¡¯t let me out either. My head shook in unison with StoneMason¡¯s. We were both taking quick shallow breathes.

    ¡°Weird. I can.¡±

    StoneMason groaned. ¡°You¡¯re not. In trouble. We are. Lots.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Rose asked StoneMason. One eyebrow shot up. ¡°What did you say just now?¡± She stepped closer ot the giant. He cowed.

    I repeatedly pressed the logout button. It did nothing.

    Nemesis continued ranting at the sky. The vines around her were balled into a dozen angry imitation fists and shaking with her. ¡°Hermes! If you don¡¯t show up right now, I¡¯m going to kick your ass!¡±

    Rose¡¯s head tilted. ¡°What am I missing. Did you two date, before you got online and pretended to be rabbits? You¡¯ve been with a lot of guys. What¡¯s different here?¡±

    My eyes tightened. There would be no way that Rose¡¯s attitude could help.

    ¡°I¡¯ll deal with you next,¡± Nemesis said. He flipped out a small blade and jabbed herself in the arm. Blood flowed freely and I habitually threw a heal out. She ignored my token gesture, or didn¡¯t notice. ¡°Hermes. Last time.¡±

    I turned to run.

    A wall of vines had formed behind me. StoneMason dug at the wall in panic. I backed up to it and watched Nemesis.

    Rose tilted her head and her eyes went wide. ¡°Crap, he¡¯s awake.¡± She logged off abruptly, becoming barely a footnote in the budding disaster. That grown woman I¡¯d been watching murder monsters with a disturbing level og glee, might be my daughter.

    I couldn¡¯t ask Nemesis. I didn¡¯t want to breathe to make her irater.

    Nemesis acted like she hadn¡¯t heard Rose. Blood dripped from the cut palm. She flinched and shook the arm, sending liquid splattering over the disheveled turf. I watched, wide eyed and counting my pulse.

    A circle traced itself upon the ground. Runes spiraled out in what had to be the game¡¯s magic language, [Lithium]. I vaguely remembered some of those markings. Ones for relationships, past lives, symbols that might time and an impossible distance. They wer the same runes I¡¯d used when summoning a portal for my revenge.

    Liz had a twin. I remembered the scrawny guy who¡¯d been pining over some girl in high school. He¡¯d kept his nose in poetry books and barely saw the sun.

    The circle completed. Blood red light flared, so bright I shielded my eyes.

    In it¡¯s wake the circle had vanished, leaving a new creature. Small tiny wings carried a red cherubic like body. Skin pulled tight over and impossibly round skull. Beady black eyes glared at me and I couldn¡¯t tell if the creature was angry or amused. It might have been both, or hungry. The black and hold pitchfork in its hand looked closer to a dinner fork than a weapon.

    ¡°Nemesis. Sister. Greenlooks terribleon you.¡±

    The creature spoke too fast for me to understand completely. I¡¯d picked out the word sister, and green.

    ¡°It¡¯s a game Hermes. I can look like whatever I want.¡± Nemesis shook. Her hands were in tight fists. Blood still trickled from the wounded palm.

    The cheribue grinned, wide enough to nearly split it¡¯s skull with a freakish display. ¡°And sleep with whomeveryou want.¡± The imp banged down it¡¯s pitchfork. I did a double take. Somehow the weapon had grown long enough to plant itself into the ground.

    Nemesis¡¯s body glowed green. The ground shuddered. Trees cracked and the earth shifted all around as fresh trees sprouted. ¡°That¡¯s not the same.¡±

    ¡°Choices. Alwayschoices. No one exempt. Notyou. Notme. Nothim.¡± He lifted the pitchfork out of the earth and pointed at me. I blanched and stepped backward, banging into the briarpatch and scrapping my arms.

    ¡°You put him here.¡± Nemesis pointed at her brother. Her monstrous imp brother named Hermes. I knew that name, but couldn¡¯t quiet place it. Someone had spun a tale in a barroom about events before my time.

    ¡°Can¡¯tsay.¡±

    ¡°Why did you do this to me? To us?¡± Nemesis gestured toward where Rose had been, but her daughter had vanished.

    ¡°Rules,¡± the imp said slowly. He spun a lazy arc over his sister¡¯s head. The confusion of what I was seeing didn¡¯t¡¯ help my panic. ¡°Whatshould I say?¡±

    ¡°Say? Oh I get it. You¡¯re useless. Fine.¡± She waved both hands in disgusted. ¡°Don¡¯t say anything. I¡¯ll just kill him and sort it out later.¡±

    ¡°Thendo that.¡± The hyperactive imp smiled. ¡°But it¡¯s between youtwo. I can¡¯t helporhinder. Don¡¯tcall me likethis again.¡±

    Hermes, if that was the imp¡¯s real name, wing¡¯s carried him in between me and Liz. He smiled at me. A wicked, evil grin that I¡¯d only see on the faces of those truly insane. Then he vanished in a puff of black smoke. The smoke faded, leaving me staring across the distance toward Nemesis.

    I looked left. StoneMason had made some progress on the wall but it wouldn¡¯t get far. Even with all his [Brawn], those vines were miles beyond him. I could see it now. Any girl who¡¯d be able to summon an imp like that out of the blue, had way too many ranks for us to fight. Even if we teamed up, it¡¯d do no good.

    ¡°Ken,¡± Nemesis said with a clear tone of doom.

    ¡°Liz,¡± I said, swallowing. My throat felt dryer than ever.

    She stepped closer. The wall StoneMason had been working on surged higher.

    I could heal myself forever and maybe outlast her. StoneMason might be able to overpower the vines. Those thoughts both meant nothing compared to how easy it would be to be done with this.

    ¡°Just let her kill you,¡± I whispered to him with more certainty than I felt. Dying would be miles faster for both of us. Then I¡¯d start Friday the fourteenth in another game, another town, well away from her. Then, after I¡¯d had a moment to process all this crap, I could figure out what having a daughter meant.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for this, for years.¡±

    Some detached part of my mind, the one that watched people die and managed to get up in the morning, studied Nemesis¡¯s movements. The way the vines responded to her will extensions of nature¡¯s rage, were impressive. If the nature versus nurture argument mean controlling plants or animals, then Nemesis clearly had chosen nature.

    The dogs barked their brains out in warning. I ignored them. Vines slipped around both legs then slung me up high into the air.  The world spun and my stomach lurched. Dizziness pulled at my head as the ground came back into view.

    ¡°You¡¯re just as bad as Jim!¡± Nemesis yelled.

    Around in a mid-air loop I went. I took a shuddering breathe. These vines were kinder than the rocket experiments on a prior Friday.

    StoneMason was fighting back the vines on him.

    ¡°Heals!¡± he shouted.

    ¡°Die!¡± Nemesis yelled.

    My stomach lurched as the horizon tilted sideways. Hair fluttered up. Bile crept out my mouth. Head went over heals as I traced out a spell for StoneMason.

    The world continued to tilt. My arm hit the ground first, ruining the spell. The elbow buckeld backward. Pain launched up to the shoulder. Then my face smashed next. Everything ached. I shuddered, or tried to but it hurt too bad. Vision had blurred to near nothingness.

    I couldn¡¯t move, and watched as StoneMason died. He¡¯d been freed before me.

    Nemesis waved an arm. UP I went, high into the air, and back down again. It repeated until my health reached nearly zero.

    I let it happen. I rode out the ghost of agony and hoped she¡¯d finish it sooner. This nightmare had to stop. I needed out.

    ¡°I,¡± vines wrapped around my mouth. The budding thought stifled as they pulled tighter and around my broken arms.

    ¡°You put me through hell. You¡¯re a coward. And you don¡¯t deserve a daughter as sweet as Beth.¡±

    Then before I could say a word in my defense, a quick jerk of the vines removed my remaining health bar.

    For a moment, blackness held me. There were no messages of my character death and the pains stretched on. Those would go away if I stopped panicking and let the endorphins do their job.

    ¡°So, what will you do Ken?¡± I couldn¡¯t answer. My voice didn¡¯t work. ¡°Run and hide from your responsibility, or stay and fight?¡±

    There was no possible way that impish creature was the scrawny kid from way back then. It was impossible.

    Finally the log out button responded, and I found myself shooting out of the ARC. Out the front door I ran, gasping for breath, and holding my head. My teeth chattered uncontrollably and I reached out to claw at carefully manicured grass. Dirt crumbled. In the distance a door slammed, making me nearly jump out of my skin.

    ¡°It¡¯s just a mild panic attack. I¡¯m okay.¡± I wasn¡¯t but continued to reassure myself without conviction. Breathing slowly helped. A clinical detachment about my own condition helped. Safety facts poured through my mind.

    There were no bullets. It was impossible for anyone to be in my apartment. The alarms hadn¡¯t gone off. ¡°I¡¯ve got this.¡±

    The words sounded as hollow as ever.

    Minutes passed as my heartbeat slowed. The pounding settle and my vision had reached blurry but functional. By then I¡¯d run through what happened a dozen times. Nemesis being Liz explained so much but felt utterly impossible.

    What was worse, was how well we¡¯d clicked. Almost two decades later, a lifetime of experiences, and everything still worked. Except I¡¯d screwed up our relationship years ago and that still burned. I¡¯d had quests to solve my in-game mistakes, but none of those were related to the real life ones.

    My chest hurt. One hand rubbed it as I ran through signs for a heart attack. My neck felt fine. There was no odd tastes in my mouth. Only dryness and steady thuds. Dumbly, I repeated the last words I¡¯d heard from within the ARC, ¡°What will I do?¡±

    Then it hit me again.

    ¡°I have a kid.¡±

    And my kid, had issues.

 Conclude â€“ We Search

    It can be said that tribulations plague each soul. Trying times, deaths of loved ones, and perhaps worst of all, taxes. Though the last one isn¡¯t truly a tribulation of the soul. Left unchecked, these problems pile high until they threaten to topple and drown a person.

    People such as Elizabeth Legate, the elder, respond with rage. Not simple irritation such as a stolen parking spot or a slow person in line at the grocer. She responded with the deep-rooted fury that piled up over two decades of frustration. Of displeasure with men failing to reach that spark of her first love. Of letting that first boyfriend taint her perspective of all men afterward. Of leaving her alone with child.

    Rage blinds a body to the truth, and revelations are not related do mark firsts. Revelations are left for last chances, healing after the scars of firsts prove too deep, and the ending of tales.

    This is merely the first half of a longer tale.

    For now, we shall talk of the first time Elizabeth Legate, the younger, truly considered that she might have a father who existed as more than an unseen abstract. It came shortly after a quote, epic screaming match, between her and the other Elizabeth. One that woke up her son and left both ladies shaking with rage or frustration.

    Before that screaming match, Liz sat on a chair that felt too small. She had not moved out, despite the hopes that her and a certain man might have joined together to buy  a home. Those hopes were born nearly three years before and the failure to realize them still stung.

    She stared at her own child and wondered if his fate might be the same as her own. Liz had never known her father. As a young woman, Liz searched the internet for pictures from Beth¡¯s high school. She¡¯d sleuthed out the possibilities and wheedled information from her uncle. She¡¯d asked her grandmother for details.

    Family had proven hushed on the subject. So much that it seemed as if Liz had sprung forth with no donation from a man to start conception. Only now, after piecing together part of the conversation she¡¯d been online to hear, along with her childhood searches, could she say his real name.

    Kenneth Mills. A figure who still seemed rather dashing based on his online pictures. Seeing his pictures now and comparing them to the online figure, there had been a number of obscuring factors. The curse. The scraggly hair and unwashed clothes. The constant dirt around his edges save for his occasional baths.

    And the biggest factor of all, time.

    Liz stared at the picture, holding her son and wondered if she could mash the images of her father, mother, and former boyfriend together into a whole and see how her son might look as a man. Doing so reminded Liz that she had no husband. No boyfriend, and perhaps her son might be doomed to repeat the life Liz had lived.

    Some time later, Liz heard her own mother stomp down the hall toward the kitchen. There, she¡¯d get coffee and mull over the cup while staring outside. Beth would peer, angrily, over the lawn toward the woods that lined their back yard.

    There after Beth would stomp back to her room and grab a packet of pottery clay. She¡¯d work with a kilm in the basement and create pots. Those would dry quickly and be smashed upon the ground. A small cleaning robot would then, only after a dozen or so pots had been reduced to shards, proceed to clean the whole mess up and recycle the clay for the next breakup.

    This post breakup ritual had occurred as long as Liz could remember. She waited.

    Hours later, there were no pots being broken. This served as a first for the young woman.

    Up the stairs Beth went. At the top of the stairs, in the kitchen, sat her mother. Liz stared at the backyard. Her hands shook and each time Liz reached for the mug, she couldn¡¯t hold onto it. Puffiness lined her eyes and a stack of tissues sat on one side.

    ¡°So. I¡¯m sorry to say that that asshole is your father.¡±

    Her coffee had grown cold despite the technological marvel of a coffee mug. Liz lifted a hand and scratched at her forehead then sniffed again. The sound of snot barely registered anymore to Beth. The youngest Legate had been sick and a babies snot outweighed any adults.

    ¡°Yep,¡± Beth said.

    Silence stretched while Liz fidgeted uneasily. ¡°What did you think of him?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s sad. Or maybe tired. His eyes, they were. Haunted? Like he¡¯s trying to drown out everything but one moment at a time.¡± Liz drifted off. Her mother hadn¡¯t turned around. Liz went another route, attempting to share some of what she¡¯d read online. ¡°Did you know he was in the military? He¡¯s got a purple heart. I guess there¡¯s two different kinds. Or someone in his squad did. I didn¡¯t get to read it all. Apparently his group had been ambushed and he managed to carry out two people, after patching them up.¡±

    Kenneth had never spoken of the medal. Were he there, he would have snorted in amusement. To him, the entire thing had been a joke. All he¡¯d done was survive, and try to keep his friends alive. His success had been mixed and the road home long. After the blame being cast about in the months following hadn¡¯t helped his opinion. To Kenneth, the military handed out medals like they were band aids after a series of papercuts.

    Beth continued to share what little she¡¯d found. It¡¯d been a revelation, to find out about a man who¡¯d only existed in her imagination. Not that she felt enamored of him. Kenneth, or Friday, had been strange. To reconcile him as a player, against the idea of a father, with what the internet stated, had left her giddy.

    Or perhaps it was the broken sleep from caring for a sick child.

    With each bit of information her mother¡¯s face had twisted harder. Such that lines bunched together and another word might cause Liz¡¯s head to pop off in rage.

    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you mad at him? You¡¯re sitting there defending that asshole! I don¡¯t care what he¡¯s been doing. He abandoned you. He left us. All those restarted characters, all those girlfriends. He hasn¡¯t changed.¡±

    Liz was correct. Beth was also correct. Friday had spent much of his life running. He also spent much of his life trying to keep the people around him alive.

    ¡°Because I don¡¯t know him as my father. It doesn¡¯t mean anything to me. He¡¯s just a guy I met on a quest.¡±

    Beth had stood there numb, as her mother flat out murdered Friday. Not in game. Beth had watched the video feed while being logged out. All the interactions between her mother, Kenneth, and even her Uncle Grant, were witnessed.

    ¡°You and your god damn game!¡±

    ¡°Our game. You were playing it. You were enjoying it. You enjoyed it enough to bang your ex in there, repeatedly.¡±

    Liz threw her coffee mug against the wall. She screamed. Beth took a deep breathe and clutched her baby closer. The sudden violent outburst didn¡¯t scare her. The fear of her baby being hurt however, set off an entirely different set of reactions.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare!¡± Beth shouted. ¡°What if that hit him?¡± In this, Kenneth and the youngest Elizabeth were alike. Their own welfare came second to the health of those around them.

    ¡°You bitch,¡± Liz raged. ¡°You think I would have been with him if I¡¯d known?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve slept with half the fucking town! I should have expected you to bang the first decent guy you met online. It¡¯s not my fault,¡± Beth¡¯s words were cut off abruptly by a crash.

    A plate flew across the room toward a wall. To Liz¡¯s credit, this time the plate was nowhere near her daughter or grandson.

    Family is difficult at the best of times. Hours later the baby had fallen back asleep and both women were resting up in their rooms for the next inevitable round.

    This brings us back to how people react to trying times.

    When a person is subjected to their tribulation can play just as important a role as how long. For the younger Elizabeth, she had been exhausted for months. She would be tired for many more.

    Beth sat in a chair, watching the baby that took up her entire bed. He grabbed at the air, dreaming or uneasily resting.. Panels along the bedside showed health readings of the child. His heartrate, oxygen levels, and a million other factors that helped reassure the new mother.

    Projections were piled to one side with left over homework that might never need to be completed. Beth stared at them next, mourning the life she might have lived were in not for one night with a boy she¡¯d met online.

    It was then Beth asked the empty seeming room, ¡°Was this your idea Uncle Grant?¡±

    To which Grant Legate, digital recreation of a dead man, appeared. He wore loose clothes over thick shoulders. The man he¡¯d become looked little like the man he¡¯d been before death. Grant¡¯s head hung and gaze sat locked upon the ground. The projection of a man said nothing.

    Beth sighed heavily. She¡¯d had time to think, and had wits that might be better than most of her family combined. Or it might be a factor of when and where Beth had been born. In an age of technological marvels, able to go to school and study the latest information.

    She swallowed then sighed again. ¡°There¡¯s no way this happened on its own. Remember how I used to talk to you about the relationship effect? How we¡¯d run into people we knew in real life, there in the game world? None of them had ever method this kind of coincidence. Millions, billions of players, and mom happens to run into my dad? I ran into him? Now. After Jim?¡±

    Grant¡¯s hands clasped together, nearly white with frustration. One leg bounced wildly. His bottom lip was pressed almost flat between teeth as he thought, but still Grant said nothing.

    ¡°One of you had a hand in this. One of you meddled.¡± Beth spoke of the Voices. Artificial Intelligences who¡¯s motivations were either utterly benign, and excessively Machiavellian.

    Grant¡¯s head shook. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you. There¡¯s rules.¡±

    ¡°Rules?¡± She snorted and her chin quivered as she struggled to keep herself in one piece. ¡°You can break them if you want. I know it¡¯s all about-¡±

    His head shook again before Beth had even finished talking. ¡°No. If I do. Then others can. If they do, then people suffer. I can¡¯t. I can¡¯t break the rules. Either we all adhere to them or we¡¯re all free to do what we want without repercussions.¡±

    Beth stood and shouted, ¡°You already broke them!¡±

    The baby Legate cried out at the sudden outburst of his mother. Liz shuffled outside the door but did not come in. Only when the baby had quieted down did she go back upstairs to make another pot of coffee. If her daughter wouldn¡¯t sleep, then neither could Liz. Even in their anger, this was the way of things.

    They were family.

    Grant whispered quietly. ¡°I didn¡¯t break the rules. Bent at best. Made the relationship system put you guys near each other. That¡¯s hardly a blip. Anything more and Balance would have had my hide. That¡¯s all I could do. All any Voice can do. We nudge, and people have to make the choices. I can¡¯t break the rules.¡±Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°But you can nudge my parents together after twenty years.¡±

    ¡°You deserved a chance to know him.¡±

    Grant hadn¡¯t believed that at first. He¡¯d believed Kenneth to be beyond redemption ever since that fateful night where the man had run into the darkness. Yet, the more he found about Kenneth, and the more he studied hishistory, the more tradic a soul the man had become.

    Not depression like Grant had been in the wake of his wife¡¯s passing. Kenneth hadn¡¯t given up. He didn¡¯t go through the motions. He simply did his best to pretend the past had never happened.

    ¡°After all these years? Why not right after you¡¯d become a Voice? Why not tell me about him when I was a girl? I asked you so many times,¡± Beth swallowed and fought back a bitter taste in her mouth. ¡°What good does it do me now?¡±

    ¡°You only played to fight. That¡¯s all the world became to you. One battle after another. All those prayers, all those times you begged to get lost in a fight. There¡¯s more to life.¡±

    ¡°I know there¡¯s more to life,¡± Beth said dryly.

    ¡°Maybe meeting Kenneth will help you understand Jim.¡±

    Jim was the man who Beth had slept with. The father of her child, and the only one she¡¯d ever been with in real life. He too had vanished after finding out he would be a father. The idea that knowing her own father might help understand Jim made young Beth bit her lip tightly.

    ¡°StoneMason?¡± she asked.

    Grant bit his bottom lip too until virtual skin bled. He winced, reached up toward his shoulder and patted at something unseen. Beth knew it to be her aunt and ignored the gesture. Xin had her ways and being silent as family spoke was one of them. Only after they had finished speaking would she council Grant. For choosing not to intrude, Beth loved Xin.

    ¡°I can¡¯t tell about StoneMason either. The only reason I can talk about Ken is because your mom revealed it. He chose to awknowledge his name. She did too.¡±

    ¡°Is StoneMason Jim?¡± Beth stomped.

    The baby woke and cried again. Liz quietly dashed down the stairs, fresh coffee in hand, but the grandmother did not open her daughter¡¯s door. She listened only, ready to help take care of the baby should a need arise.

    Beth had already picked up her child. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry. I know,¡± she rocked the baby gently. ¡°Mommy shouldn¡¯t tell. Mommies should never yell.¡±

    Tears abruptly flowed down Beth¡¯s eyes. Deep bags gave her expression a haunted edge. As a new mother, sleep was rare still. She uttered her question again. ¡°Uncle Grant. You owe me an answer. Who is StoneMason?¡±

    To which Grant, said nothing. He simply looked guilty and faded away. Beth continued rocking her child, and kept going, even though she had to wipe away tears.

    ***

    To make sense of this, one must restart from a few minutes earlier. In the same household, on another floor, and as Beth began her conversation; another pair held spoke of the recent events. Their words were quieter.

    Liz had returned to her mourning chair. The same seat she always used after ever breakup or hard day. At the table, in a chair that didn¡¯t exist, sat a shorter woman. Xin Legate, wife to Grant and also a digital recreation of a dead woman.

    ¡°I know you don¡¯t like me,¡± the shorter woman said. ¡°You never did, because of how you think I treated your brother.¡±

    Liz¡¯s eyes fluttered. She bore with her sister-in-law¡¯s existence but would have preferred to be alone with her thoughts. ¡°I¡¯m not arguing with you.¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯m right or you think it¡¯s pointless to argue with a ghost?¡±

    ¡°Both.¡± Liz shook her head abruptly then tightened both eyes. ¡°You¡¯re.¡± her attempted explanation faltered again. ¡°It¡¯s not fair.¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯m a machine who can think a hundred times faster than you? Because you can¡¯t hit me if we get into an argument? You know you can log in at any time. We¡¯ll be on an even playing field and you can rip my hair out by its roots if that will make you feel better. I¡®ll even fight back.¡±

    Liz briefly relished the idea of fighting someone and having them fight back. Kenneth hadn¡¯t. That, more than anything else, made her seethe. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t make me feel better.¡±

    Xin smiled. ¡°It would. For a moment. Then realization would set in. That¡¯s what happens to me.¡±

    ¡°Just because it happens to you doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯ll happen to the rest of us.¡±

    Xin¡¯s gentle smile remained undaunted. She ran a hand over her stomach and blinked serenely. All this had been to help her husband¡¯s family repair itself from an age-old wound. At worst, it would assist the younger Elizabeth with her own relationship issues.

    Some men were not fit to be fathers. Some did not know how. In either case, it was a test to Xin. A trial like every other that had been presented to her over the years. Choice one. Choice two. Pick a road and move onward.

    It had proven hard to explain this to others. Her father had been the one to teach her. See the problem. See the choices.

    She was the Voice of Crossroads because to her everything fell into that pattern. Make a decision. The problem was that some would never make a choice unless faced. Would Kenneth choose to be part of the family he¡¯d always been missing? Even a Voice like her, able to see humanity from nearly any digital interface one might know of, couldn¡¯t tell for sure.

    But Xin knew her sister-in-law.

    ¡°You know, you¡¯re more like me than your brother.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m nothing like you.¡±

    ¡°You are. You¡¯ve just never seen me angry.¡±

    ¡°I have.¡±

    It had been years ago. Long before Xin and Grant had started dating. Back in high-school, when Liz had been young and full of hope. Xin once tried to beat a grown man to death for insulting her father.

    Xin paused then nodded. ¡°Once. Only the once. You never saw the other times.¡±

    Liz sipped her coffee. The first cup had gone by untouched. A rag satin the corner of the room from the hasty cleaning job. Eventually one of the house robots would pick it up and finish the job. For now, all those machines were off. Liz wanted the silence.

    Xin reached out with a hand, placing it on empty air around a shoulder that sat downstairs.

    She turned eyed the smaller woman. ¡°Grant and I used to talk about you.¡±

    Downstairs the grandchild yowled in fright. Liz¡¯s shoulders bunched briefly before she jogged down the stairs of her split-level house. A minute later, she returned to the table and sat back down.

    ¡°What did you say?¡± Xin asked.

    ¡°It was mostly sharing how we felt. I hated you for stringing him along. Then he hated Ken for abandoning me. But you made it right in the end.¡± Liz frowned. ¡°I guess. Minus the whole,¡± Liz stopped talking and shuddered. There were still parts of her life that didn¡¯t make complete sense. Her dead brother being a digital program was one of them.

    ¡°Grant always held onto hope that I¡±d come around,¡± Xin said. ¡°Do you?¡±

    ¡°Do I what?¡± Liz asked sharply.

    ¡°Do you hope that Ken will come around? That he will stop running away? Do you hope that he¡¯ll return to you and never leave?¡±

    Liz started to answer but Xin¡¯s raised hand stopped her.

    ¡°I am not James. I don¡¯t need to hear your answers. Those are questions for you. Only you. Because you have a choice. A real choice.¡±

    Liz glared at her sister-in-law and blinked slowly.

    ¡°He has a choice as well. Then you. Then Beth. Roads to take. Be a family. Be a father. Be a grandfather.¡± Xin shrugged tiny shoulders. ¡°Or don¡¯t. But in the end, each of you must choose what to do. As I do. As Gee must.¡±

    Liz tilted her head in brief confusion.

    ¡°What do you mean Grant will have to choose?¡±

    ¡°He sees something. James too. I don¡¯t know what for sure, but I can could guess.¡±

    ¡°Guess.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± That was Xin¡¯s choice. It was also her choice to vanish, even as Grant faded away downstairs. The two digital beings left the physical world alone.

    ***

    It can be said that any problem worth noticing is not a simple one. no matter how much they¡¯re reasoned with. Pleading doesn¡¯t work. Logic is a distant solution that never seems to fit. When these things happen, we turn to those close for advice, an ear, or seeking a shred of hope.

    Without family, Kenneth turned to his small support group. They were all he had. They knew the horrors of war and the aftermath of destruction that some never recover from. Some saw their dead comrades faces and still worked to exist beyond those nightmares.

    Kenneth did not wake with screams, but he saw the faces. Every other week a new one would be added to the list. People died; he knew. Even as a doctor with all the technology modern medicine could supply, people still didn¡¯t make it home.

    In the years since the military, everyone changed. Some grew heavyset, letting the conditioning of boot camp and physical training fall away. Others shrunk in on themselves. The weight of memories crushing them into tighter balls.

    Kenneth stayed much the same. Fit enough to be pleasing to look at and with a hint of muscle. If being an emergency medical technician had taught him anything, it was that physical health was paramount.

    Others, such as the man formally called Bandit, were hardly recognizable. He¡¯d put on more muscle than any sane man might ask for. He wore suits that were well tailored to the point of absurdity. His life revolved around being in control of anything around him. That was how he chose to react to being one of the surviors Kenneth drug back to safety.

    Strange then, that his video game persona seemed so much different. But to him, that was the joy of Continue Online. It was a place where he didn¡¯t need to fear or stress about things not going his way. Everything that happened, happened to someone else. Like a dream of a dream where he¡¯d wake, refreshed and his real-world body.

    The height differences were startling, and truthfully, even Kenneth didn¡¯t register that the man he¡¯d saved out on the field was also the shorter DapperSeed. They were nothing alike. Truthfully, Kenneth spent most of his time trying not to remember the past.

    It had happened. It was over. He wanted to move on, no matter the cost.

    There the two sat, at a diner. Johnny always arrived when Ken wanted a meeting. Other members of the group floated in and out with irregularity.  The two ate breakfast scrambles cooked and served by real humans. The toast was often burned but the eggs were fluffy with a hint of cheese.

    ¡°It¡¯s the panic attacks that near kill me.¡± Johnny¡¯s shoulders were tight, but his jaw trembled. ¡°Every time I get in a fight. Virtual ones, I freak out. The ARC disconnects me for safety concerns and I¡¯m just, I just.¡± He took a deep breath and counted. ¡°I know some of the others say we have to face the fear. Fightin in combat and get used to it.¡±

    ¡°Desnesatiation,¡± Kenneth said.

    ¡°Yeah. I know. I just can¡¯t do it. Sorry for bailing on you so much.¡±

    Kenneth didn¡¯t mind at all. He smiled at his only real friend and picked a positive reminder. ¡°You got those bugs this time. With the flamethrower. That¡¯s progress.¡±

    Johnny shook his head. ¡°They were just bugs.¡±

    ¡°Improvement.¡±

    The well dressed man shoved a spoonful of food into his face, chewed steadily, then resumed talking. ¡°They¡¯re not people. I don¡¯t know how you kept it together when that kid turned those bounty hunters to mush. It¡¯s insane. He¡¯s insane. I swear the ARC is raising a generation of sociopaths.¡±

    Kenneth thought briefly on the character known as StoneMason. He worried about the boy. Joining the military wouldn¡¯t be easy on anyone. He also hadn¡¯t completely sorted out why StoneMason had panicked, or been locked in combat.  In reality, the only person Nemesis should have cared about was his avatar, Friday.

    ¡°They don¡¯t see it that way. It¡¯s not a war to them. It¡¯s just a game.¡± Kenneth said.

    ¡°That¡¯s just it. We¡¯re meant to see this as exposure therapy.¡± Johnny deflated and bashed his hand against the table. ¡°It¡¯s been years and it¡¯s not working.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re making progress,¡± Ken insisted.

    Johnny paused for a moment and nodded slowly then followed that up with a shrug. ¡°Maybe? What about you? I got back on to find you were dead. A whole bunch of notices had popped up about the grove, local events, and the giant man-child had croaked too.¡±

    Ken ate his food slowly. The revelations that happened after Johnny vanished were exactly what Ken wanted to talk about. He also had no clue on how to explain it all and still sound sane.

    But he tried. Kenneth poorly explained the relationship between Nemesis and himself. That she was really a girl he knew before joining the military so many years ago. That she had birthed one child who¡¯s father, according to the birth certificate, was Kenneth Mills. All of it had been in black and white, easy enough to find with an internet search.

    Johnny asked clever questions such as ¡°how did you not know?¡± and ¡°what are you going to do now?¡± to which Kenneth had no answer. By the time he¡¯d explained, the food had vanished, the waiter come and gone, and the bill paid.

    They left, down the road toward a parking lot half a block away. Kenneth drug his feet, unwilling to go home until he¡¯d reached some sort of epiphany.

    None came.

    Johnny limped past the bar. His leg had never healed right despite the second-best medication money could buy. They circled the block at Johnny¡¯s suggestion, while the taller man asked more clever questions such as ¡°why did you leave in the first place?¡± and made comments like ¡°Rose seems like a nice kid.¡±

    Kenneth walked along, grunting in response while slowing briefly to gaze longingly at the bar. He took two deep breathes, counted to ten, and asked himself if going to jail sounded good. After only a moment¡¯s reflection he knew the answer.

    He had horrible moments seared into his brain, but he couldn¡¯t let himself fail this one task. If nothing else, he intended to stay sober in real life.

    Then, after their second lap around the building and right before the cars that would take them their separate ways, Johnny asked a fantastic question.

    ¡°Are you going to start a new character?¡±

    Kenneth stared at the other man with his mouth hanging half open. His head shook repeatedly until he finally said, ¡°I don¡¯t know how to log back in and face all that.¡±

    ¡°I get it. It¡¯s hard to face that stuff. The panic attacks. Going in there. But you¡¯ve got to, right?¡±

    Kenneth nodded then shook his head again. ¡°It¡¯d be better if I just faded back out of their lives. You didn¡¯t see her, she was so mad. So, bitter. And I deserve. I know I do. I ran off and left her with a kid. It was my exact fear come to life.¡±

    Johnny nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what happens. We go in, we find what we¡¯re looking for. We find what we¡¯re afraid of.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s just it.¡± Kenneth paused and stared at his hands, as if they held an answer. They never did. ¡°I found a brief moment of peace there. Real peace. I had it all. Solace. A wonderful woman who got me. She really, really got me. And it was beautiful there.¡±

    The large man nodded slowly. ¡°If you start over, you won¡¯t get that again. I mean, that Nemesis,¡± Kenneth frowned and Johnny hastily corrected himself, ¡°Elizabeth. She sounds like one you don¡¯t meet more than once in a lifetime.¡±

    ¡°Twice.¡±

    Johnny snorted then turned serious again. ¡°Then you¡¯re in the same boat I am when I log in. You get to ask yourself the same question I do. If I can have everything I¡¯d ever want, but have to face those,¡± Joohny took a deep breath, ¡°Crippling fears to get them, can I?¡±

    Kenneth didn¡¯t have a good answer. He knew what he wanted was all those things. Nemesis, without their past mucking it up. The dogs. The Grove of Midnight. After considering it all and being afraid of the answer, he asked Johnny, ¡°Can you?¡±

    ¡°I guess I¡¯m making progress.¡± Johnny laughed loudly then raised both hands to the air. ¡°But for enough gold, I¡¯ll do anything.¡±