“Here we go,” Thornhold said. “We need baths, by the way.”

  I nodded. Ray had managed to avoid being caught in the gore, but the rest of us, even Reggie, were splattered with brains, blood, and other questionable substances. We’d be reeking before long.

  “Agreed. All right, let me talk to the innkeeper, okay? I’m diplomatic,” I said.

  Reggie snorted. “You just go on thinking that, Erenye.”

  “Hey!” I glared at him. “Then why did you guys elect me leader of the group?”

  “Because you’re the least likely to get us killed on sight,” he said.

  “Hence, I’m the most diplomatic one.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re good with it,” he countered, but then just laughed. “I’m just pulling your chain. We all know you’re the best choice. Okay, go get us a room and some bread and cheese or whatever we can afford.”

  We pushed through the rustic doors to the inn. The building stood three stories tall. As we entered the building, I noticed a beam propped against the nearest wall, ready to bar the doors if the need arose. That alone told me this wasn’t a safe place, but it was probably the safest we could manage under the circumstances.

  The others hung back as I sauntered up to the counter. Several grizzled types were at the bar, slugging back the booze. One, a man around forty, with a scruffy beard and hair that hung in a braid down his back, gave me a long look from head to toe. He was wearing a gray cloak with the hood thrown back, and what looked like a black tunic and trousers beneath the cape. He caught my gaze, then looked away and motioned to one of the serving girls for another ale. For some reason, I felt a spark of connection, but I turned to the innkeeper. Well, I assumed it was the innkeeper—he was behind the bar, after all.

  “Are you the innkeeper?” I asked.

  “Aye. What can I do for you?” the burly man asked. He was wearing a vest over a poet’s shirt and a pair of linen trousers, buttoned up the front. His long, bushy hair was caught back in a ribbon. He looked tidy compared to everyone else in the room. The serving girls looked a little frazzled, with flour smudges on their aprons that covered the ankle length dresses. But they didn’t look dirty. I had a feeling they were all employees in the game.

  “How much for a room and a bath?” I asked. I was holding everybody’s money at this point.

  “Twenty copper for the room and five for a bath. But we only have two rooms open right now, at least that have bathtubs.”

  I hadn’t planned on us splitting up, but the cost was a lot less than I’d expected. “How many beds per room?”

  “Two,” the innkeeper said.

  I turned to the others. Reggie was the smallest, in terms of space he took up, and I was next. “Reggie, you mind sharing a bed with me?”

  He laughed. “No problem.”

  I turned back to the innkeeper. If we could avoid sleeping on the floor, so much the better. “We’ll take both rooms. We’ll each need a bath, so…”

  “Forty copper for the rooms, twenty-five for the baths. Do you want food?” The innkeeper asked.

  I nodded. “What’s on the menu?” I didn’t want to get stuck with something none of us would eat, but the aroma drifting out from the kitchen was making my mouth salivate.

  “Beef stew. Comes with bread and cheese. Five copper each. You can eat in the dining room,” he nodded at the tables scattered around the room. Kitchen’s open till ten.” He pointed to a cuckoo clock. The Abarria Game-Guides company had elected to use a twenty-four hour day in the game. It just made it easier.

  The clock showed that it was seven. I estimated the time for us to bathe.

  “We’ll bathe, then eat.”

  “Forty for the rooms, fifty for the food and baths,” he said, holding out his hand.

  I fumbled in my pocket where I’d stashed a couple of the silver coins, and brought out one, slapping it in his hands. He gave me back ten copper and then motioned to one of the serving girls. Carrying the keys, she led us up to the rooms. As we climbed the stairs to the second floor, we said nothing. We all knew the dangers of talking in front of strangers, at least in the MMO version. We waited till she left, then gathered in one room.

  “All right, they’re bringing up water for the first two baths. Brynn and I’ll bathe in one room, the three of you can bathe in here. We’ll bathe in shifts—don’t dally, or we’ll miss dinner.” We settled down to wait for the hot water.

  It took two hours, but by nine o’clock, we were all clean, and the serving girls had done their best to clean our clothes and armor for us. Feeling better from the hot water and soap, we headed down to the dining hall, grateful for the heaping plates of food that the servers placed in front of us. None of us had much to say. It had been one long, strange, day, and I thought about whether I wanted to go through the rest of the adventure.

  Yes, the killing bothered me. Yes, it was going to be harder than I ever thought possible. But this was the adventure of a lifetime. And I knew that if I left early, I’d never take another chance on coming back.

  “You can do it,” I muttered to myself. “You wanted this. It was your idea. Stick it out, and you might have fun.”

  With that self-encouragement, I shifted my focus back to the group. Everybody was laughing, talking about the Trogger and the ogres, and what might lie in front of us. I forced myself to join in. With a little luck, we’d adjust and the rest of our little adventure would go just as we planned it.

  CHAPTER 5: ONWARD TO ADVENTURE!

  “Apples—can we get more apples?” Brynn asked.

  “And cheese!” Thornhold added. “Bread, as well.”

  It was morning, and we had eaten breakfast at the inn, and now, we were standing in the Market Square, stocking up for our venture into the forest. Everybody wanted something different, so I finally put my foot down.

  “I am not your personal shopper. I was happy to pay for the room, and everybody has their own money. Buy what you want, but remember, we might not come across any treasure troves on the way. With luck, we will, but the spare coins we got off the Trogger and the ogres might just be all the supplemental coinage we end up with. So think before you shop,” I added. “And stick close. We really don’t want to get split up around here.” I glanced around.

  The market was bustling with housewives bargaining prices for food, vendors hawking their wares, children looking to steal an apple or a cookie. A few shops—more permanent than the vendor stalls—offered more permanent goods than food and cloth. Weapons makers, armorers, farriers, carpenters, and more, all lined the side of the market square.

  The stench was overpowering—a combination of cooked meats, smoke, perfumes, B.O., burned vegetables and underlying everything, the ever present smell of raw sewage.

  “I don’t care what anybody says,” I said. “Things were definitely not better in the olden days. Even the 70s, 80s, and 90s were problematic. Give me modern technology any day—at least on a day-to-day basis.” I caught sight of a weapons shop. “I want a better dagger. Anybody want to go with me?”

  The fact that we got to keep our armor and weapons when our time in the game was over made it even more appealing to find some gorgeous blade to have as a souvenir.

  Warning the others not to go far, although we could communicate with each other through our watches if we wanted to pay extra—and by extra, I meant twenty-five dollars per single text—Thornhold and I headed into the shop.

  Behind the counter was a gorgeous Amazon of a woman. I’d thought Brynn was statuesque, but this chick made her look like a peasant.

  She eyed us up and down. She was an Abarria Game-Guides employee. If we hurt her or tried to steal from her, it was automatically off to jail. Do not pass go, do not collect loot.

  “Merry meet, and prithee, how might I give thee aid?” The words flowed off her tongue, but sounded so stilted that I snorted.

  “You can speak normally to us,” I said. I knew the in-game employees were trained to speak like gamers thought they should, whether historically accurate or not. A lot of people felt it gave an authentic feel to the game, but there really wasn’t much historical accuracy to most RPGs.

  She let out a sigh. “Thanks. I get so tired of remembering the script.” Then, as if she was afraid she might be overheard—and she very well might be—she blushed and added, “What can I do for you?”

  “What have you got in blades for…well…a gold piece?” I was willing to spend my money on something I could take home. Food…well…we had enough with us if we rationed it out, and I was willing to eat stale bread and warm cheese for a couple of weeks.

  “I can give you this silver hilted one—it doesn’t have a magical attack, but it will glow blue around undead. And silver does extra damage to undead. It’s probably not much better than the one you’ve got on that belt, but it’s shiny,” she said with a laugh, bringing out the blade.

  It was, indeed, shiny, and had just the perfect fantasy look that I wanted.

  “I’ll take it. I doubt we’ll be leveling up much in the time we’re going to be here, so I might as well get something pretty.” I paid her and fastened the sheath to the other side of my belt. I would use the one that Game-Guides gave me, and save my fancy one for showing off at home.

  Thornhold snorted. “How about a sharpening stone?”

  “Three silver,” she said.

  He paid her and pocketed the stone. Then, bidding her farewell, we headed back outside to our companions.

  “Here,” Reggie said, handing me four apples, some jerky, a loaf of bread, and a good-sized triangle of hard cheese. “Since you paid for last night, we bought enough for all of us.”

  “Let me pay you⁠—”

  “Nope. We were able to buy all of this,” he indicated the basket full of foodstuffs, “with what we got off the Trogger. We still have our coins from the ogres. And we bought some extra rope, a couple cartons of waxed matches, and tin cups.”

  “Well, we really did make out,” I said. “All right, now can we head for the forest?”

  “Sure thing,” Brynn said. “I’m sick of the smell of this place.”

  As we turned toward the exit of the village, there was a soft knell of a bell and I jumped. Over the heads of the others, a bright “Level 2” shimmered. I glanced up and hovering over me, was the same.

  level two, a voice echoed. you have reached level two.

  Feeling heartened, we hurried toward the village gates.

  We headed out of Dusmaria, cautious to make certain we weren’t being followed. The place was jumping with thieves. If the villages were like that, I found myself hoping we wouldn’t be coming to any big cities.

  The sun was bright overhead, but the day was pleasant and the hike toward the forest felt like a relaxing walk through the countryside. I relaxed as we left the village behind, though here and there we saw other players. It was getting easier to tell who was an actual player or employee, and who was one of the Syms. It was a subtle difference, but one that made itself known when you were around the inhabitants of Abarria long enough.

  “Are you glad we came?” Reggie asked, arching his back as he stretched toward the open sky.

  “I think so,” I said. “It’s nice to be away from work for awhile. And hey, we made it to level two!”

  Back in the real world, we all held high-pressure jobs. I was an editor at Golden Laurels Publishing, a mid-sized press. Thornhold owned a gym. Reggie was a lawyer. Ray was principal at a prep school. And Brynn…Brynn was a systems analyst in the IT department at the company I worked for. None of us could afford to go crazy at work, and all of us had been feeling a lot of stresses lately. Hence, our decision to splurge on a trip into Abarria.

  “I still feel like, at any moment, they’re going to call us back and say there was a mix-up and kick us out,” Brynn said.

  “Well, so far, so good. What do you think we’ll be able to do in two weeks?”

  “Ten days, technically—today’s our second day here,” Reggie said. He sounded worn out. He was a district attorney and was forced to defend too many people that he wished he could put in jail.

  “I want to find a dungeon,” Thornhold said. “I’ve always wanted to go through one for real.”

  As talk turned toward what we hoped to get out of the next couple of weeks, I glanced from side to side. Grassland, as far we could see, stretched out to either side. Ahead, the forest loomed, still about two hours away at the pace we were walking.

  “A dungeon, huh?” I asked. I lifted my watch and spoke into it. “We’re looking for a dungeon.”

  noted. request is approved. you will find a dungeon within the next twenty-four hours. please head toward the forest. you will find the dungeon before you reach the border. keep your eyes and ears open.

  For the price we paid, we were allowed to ask for several specific adventures. There was no guarantee how long each one would last, but they would be geared toward our character levels. For the price we paid, our group got three requests.

  Thornhold beamed at me. “Thank you, lassie.”

  “Lassie? Since when did you turn Scottish? I thought you were one-hundred percent Scandinavian?” But I laughed as I prodded him.

  He snorted. “I am, but somehow, out here, I keep flashing back to Lord of the Rings. Gimli had an odd Scottish accent.”

  For all of our critiques, we noted the discrepancies of our favorite stories, but accepted them as quirks of the game…or the book…or the movie.

  As we kept up a steady, even pace, the sky began to clear and by early afternoon, we were nearing the forest. Up ahead, scattered houses began to appear, small clusters outside the heavily wooded copse. Most of them looked quite a bit nicer than those in Dusmaria, though they were still rustic. But tidy gardens nestled next to each cottage, interspersed with apple trees, heavy with fruit ready for picking.

  I took a deep breath. It was so peaceful, so calm, that I wanted to stop, move in and spend the next two weeks wandering in the forest, puttering in the garden, making pies, reading books for fun, and sipping tea.

  “What are you thinking?” Thornhold said.

  “I’m thinking I should have probably taken a vacation in the country. I look over there and see a life free of worry, free of deadlines…” I closed my eyes, letting out a long breath.

  “What’s really going on?” Thornhold asked. “I think it’s something else that you’ve been pushing away for a long time.”

  I frowned, not wanting to give voice to the thoughts that sprang up to what he had said. Thornhold was right, but I didn’t want to think about what was stressing me out right now. “Ask me again later, okay? You’re onto something, but I’ve been avoiding thinking about it, and I need to process everything first.”

  “Okay, but try to have fun? You love this game.” He reached out and patted me on the arm.

  I flashed him a smile. “You’re a good friend, T-H,” I said, using his nickname. He’d been named after his great-grandfather and had never quite gotten over it. “I promise, I’ll get in the spirit.”

  At that moment, the door to one of the cottages opened and a woman stepped out. I squinted and watched her for a moment. “Employee, not a Sym,” I said.

  “Ahoy, strangers,” she called out, waving. “Where are you going?”

  “Into the woods,” I said, waving back. “Say, do you mind if we stop for a drink of water?”

  She waved us over. “Please, do. I have fresh apple pie, if you’d like, and cider.”

  The smell of cinnamon drifted toward us through the open door, making my stomach rumble.

  “Thank you.” I turned to the others. “Why don’t we take her up on the offer? I have a feeling this might be a good thing for us,” I said. Something in my gut told me that we might be on track to the dungeon and maybe this woman could help us.

  They agreed, and so we turned toward the cottage, readying ourselves for fresh pie and cold cider. Overhead, the sun shimmered toward late afternoon, and I glanced toward the woods. What would we find in there? And would I be able to find my own peace of mind?

  CHAPTER 6: AND THE GAME TAKES A DRASTIC TURN

  “Here,” the woman said, leading us to a long table out back of her cottage. It was shaded by a massive oak. A well sat near the tree. Further back was a small pond. Beyond that, a field of corn waved in the breeze and beyond that, stretched the forest.

  “You have quite the farm here,” I said. “I’m Erenye, and this is Thornhold, Brynn, Reggie, and Ray. We just got here.”

  Technically, of course, the employees weren’t allowed to break the fourth wall, but we’d seen it happen before. Even though this was supposed to be an immersive experience, there were always going to be reminders of the outside world.

  “I’m Liesel,” she said. “Let me go get the pie. Please sit and rest yourselves.” As she headed into the house, I turned to the others.

  “I wonder what it’s like to work here. How often does she get to leave the game?”

  “It wouldn’t be a bad job…In fact, it might be fun,” Reggie said.

  “I suppose, but it seems like living in two worlds at once would get confusing after awhile.” Brynn turned around on the bench and leaned back against the table, stretching out her legs. “I have to say, it’s beautiful here. And it’s nice to get away for awhile.”

  I decided to ask them how they felt about killing the creatures. “What happened when you had to kill the enemies we’ve faced? Does that…how are you dealing with that?”

  “They’re Syms, not real,” Reggie said. “It’s just like being in a video game. You kill trolls and ogres all the time in the game.”

  “I know, but that’s like watching a movie. This is reality⁠—”

  “No, it’s not exactly reality,” Ray said. “But I get what you’re saying. It’s one thing when it’s in your head or on the screen. Quite another when we’re standing face to face. But they really are Syms, Erenye. They don’t have pain receptors. Think of them like corporeal holograms. They’re programmed to fight, programmed to interact the way they do, even programmed to shriek or scream. It’s all for show.”