XxJadePhoenixX
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IC: “Hey, wake up,” a voice called to her through the darkness, urgent and afraid. The girl stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, the light from the midday sun almost blinding her. There was a man staring at her, his features muddied and blurred. He seemed anxious, his lips moved but the words were lost to the howling of a wind that only she could hear. A thunderclap sounded inside her mind, followed by the ringing of her ears. A storm was brewing, but it couldn’t have been, the sky was clear. More ringing followed, like a chorus of tuning forks singing in an open meadow. Images of men danced at the periphery of her perception. She half-turned, tilting her head to the side. The disjointed chaos of her vision coalesced into the clear image of a man stabbed through the heart. Fear gripped her then, her chest pounding. The sound of it thundering inside her head. She moved like a wounded animal, scraping and clawing at the ground trying to get away. A battle raged behind her. Armored men carrying shields, biting and clawing at each other with swords, axes and spears. The man from before pursued her, hands gripping at her shoulders. “This way,” he shouted at her. His voice rising above the din of battle as he lifted her off the ground. She fought back in a daze, arms and legs thrashing about struggling to get free. “Let me go,” she cried, but at the sound of her own voice she froze. Was that me?!
"Scarlett, for fuck's sake stop fucking around! I’m not going to hurt you,” the man assured her. He hefted her up onto her feet and she finally got a look at his face. He appeared young, piercing gray eyes set in a hard chiseled face under a mat of messy brown hair. About a day’s worth stubble covered his chin and a thin scar stretched from his left temple to his cheek. He wore a drab robe over a mail shirt and linen trousers under leather greaves atop muddied boots. In one hand he carried his sword while the other he used to support her weight. More than this, though, she recognized him.
"M–Melchior?!"
**********
Scarlett could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She and Melchior had been running for what felt like hours, her legs felt drained, her body was sore and the ringing in her ears had not ceased. One more step and she collapsed heavily into a tree. Somehow she managed to catch herself before falling and took a moment to rest her head on the trunk. She could feel the rough bark of the tree against her cheek and the stickiness of its sap between her fingers. None of this was a dream, it was all so very real.
"Hey, hey, easy," Melchior said as he came up behind her. "You're still not used to being in that body, but the dizziness will fade eventually."
"Where are we," she asked, still not quite used to the sound of her voice.
"The Old Wood, near as I can tell. It's a newbie starting area."
The girl half turned and fixed him with a hard stare. "You're not seriously suggesting we're in the game."
Melchior shrugged. "Got no other explanation for it. I mean, I'm me and well, you're you. Seems pretty self-evident that's where we are... Unless you've always been a hot Elven chick with red hair."
Red hair? She hadn't even thought about it until he brought it up. With her clean hand she reached up and grabbed a lock of her hair, holding it out in front of her. Upon seeing its pigment her eyes widened with surprise.
"Gonna take that as a no," Melchior continued. "Anyway, we should keep going once you're able to move. These woods aren't safe at night."
"I thought you said this was a newbie starting area."
He nodded. "I did, but there are still monsters living in these woods. I'm not looking forward to running into them after the sun goes down."
Monsters in the woods... On some level she probably knew that, but she hadn't even thought about it until he brought it up. She knew from her limited experience in the game that the monsters in this area weren't very strong. Just kobolds and the like, nothing too scary for a level one adventurer. Though, looking at it from the other side of a computer screen was completely different. She let her hair fall back onto her shoulder before reaching down to grasp the hilt of the dagger at her hip.
"Do you know how to use that," he asked as she drew the weapon and held it up in front of her.
She silently shook her head.
"Neither do I," he added, patting the hilt of the sword at his side. "All the more reason to get out of these woods." He stepped closer to her and reached out to offer her support.
Scarlett ignored him for the moment and stared distantly at the blade of her dagger. "If we die here, do we come back? Or...," she let the rest trail off into nothing.
"I don't know," he told her, "but it didn't seem like anyone was getting back up after--," the words caught in his throat, but it was clear what he meant. The image of that man with a sword plunged through his chest was forever burned into her memory.
She closed her eyes but that did nothing to banish the horror from her mind. "Those men back there, who were they?"
"Gankers," he explained, "They cornered us on the field at the edge of the wood before we all woke up here. Killed our healer in the opening attack. He was gurgling on his blood when I opened my eyes."
Scarlett's eyes widened as a sudden realization dawned on her. He woke up in a body that was dying. She felt a shiver run down her spine. She barely knew the man, or for that matter Melchior. She had only joined them last night for a single quest. They never even made it that far before some other players attacked them in the wilderness. No one deserves to die like that.
"Guess the fighter and the healer were close friends," Melchior continued. "After his friend died he charged at the gankers, sword raised even though they were just as confused as we were. The whole situation just kind of devolved from there and, well... You know the rest."
She did and she didn't care to remember it. Pushing those thoughts aside she put her dagger back in its sheath then tried to heave herself up off the tree, but another dizzy spell caused her to collapse back into it.
"Hey, easy," Melchior told her as he gently grabbed her by the waist and threw her arm over his shoulder. "Just lean on me for a bit, alright?"
The girl balked at his touch, staring daggers down at his hand on her hip. "Hey," she cried, but he was already half carrying her, half dragging her through the woods. Scarlett ground her teeth together in frustration but said nothing else. Melchior was right, they couldn't stay here. They weren't that far from the battle and there were even more dangers lying in wait for them among the trees. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed his help.
**********
A rustling of ferns followed by the hollow thumping of hooves broke the stillness of the forest. High above a congress of ravens take flight, cawing and beating their wings against the air. A breeze whistled through the trees, creaking branches and disturbing the leaves. While the steady thumping of some far-off woodpecker filled her ears. An abundance of life and sound but Scarlett could only focus on the things that were missing. Like the sound of cars whizzing past them. The hustle and bustle of people moving shoulder to shoulder down a busy street. Or the loud howling of a policeman's siren. She really had woken up in a different world.
"I think we're about halfway through the wood," Melchior said suddenly, startling her.
"What," she asked, turning to look at him.
"I think we're about halfway through," he repeated, then he looked at her closer. "Are you alright?"
She shook her head. "I'm fine, it's just--this forest is really loud.
He gave her a curious look. "Loud? What are you--," his words trailed off as a sudden realization dawned on him. "You're a Wood Elf."
"No I'm not, I'm--," she tried to object but he cut her short with a wave of his hand.
"I know, I know, but you--Scarlett's a Wood Elf," he corrected himself. "Elves have enhanced hearing and vision."
Did she? She hadn't really noticed, aside from the hearing, that is, but enhanced vision? She lifted her head to look at her surroundings, turning her gaze this way and that. Nothing but spruce, oak and birch trees as far as she could see. Dense thickets of ferns and brush camouflaged their roots. All around her she could hear but not see birds squawking, animals scurrying. All of it punctuated by the ever-present sound of leaves rustling in the wind.
"Do you see anything," Melchior asked.
"Yea," she answered, "A fuck ton of trees."
He made a face at her. "Probably hard to tell the difference in the middle of a forest. Maybe after we're--," his words cut off sharply at the sound of a twig snapping in two. All at once he drew his sword, startling Scarlett who took two steps backward and nearly fell over.
"Dude! What the hell are you--," she started, but her words drew up short as three hooded figures emerged from the trees.
"Easy there, friend, we're not here to fight you," the one in the middle said, holding up his hands so they could see.
Scarlett immediately noticed the ring on his finger and a sudden memory from the battle intruded into her mind. The sword that killed the man in front of her, the hand attached to it bore the same ring. "You," she whispered sharply, "You're the guys who attacked us."
The leader of the trio lowered his hands. "Yes, we did, but to be fair this world was still a game when we killed your friend."
"And the others," Melchior asked pointedly.
The man shifted his gaze to him. "Regrettable," he admitted, "but they attacked us first."
"What the shit kind of excuse is that?! You killed someone," Scarlett shouted at him and to her surprise the man's expression shifted to one of remorse.
"I'm not proud of it," he said, "Before waking up here he was just a collection of pixels on a screen. I'd never actually seen anyone die before. At least, not for real."
"What do you want," Melchior demanded.
The man shrugged. "We saw you flee into the woods during the battle," he answered. "If you're players of the game then you know what's in here. The two of you alone, traveling at night... There is strength in numbers, you know. You should join us."
Scarlett scoffed at him. "That's rich coming from you. You guys are murderers, why would we ever join you?"
"Protection," he said simply. "I see you're armed, but do either of you know how to fight?"
Scarlett cast a glance over her shoulder at Melchior who bore the same uncertain look in his eye.
"I'll take that as a no," he continued after their brief exchange. "Look, this world ain't like the one we just came from. Here the only thing that matters is survival. Join us and we'll keep you safe."
"And if we say no?" Melchior said, his hand tightening on the grip of his sword.
He shrugged. "Well, then I'm afraid we're going to have to ask you for your weapons and armor."
"Bullshit," Scarlett snapped. The thought of taking off her clothes in front of this man...
He fixed her with a hard stare. "You two try to cross these woods alone you'll die and then your items will go to waste. As I said, it's a matter of survival. In this world a sword is more valuable than gold."
"Go fuck yourself," Melchior shouted, gripping his sword in both hands. The tip of his blade shook nervously, but the way he set his feet announced to the others that he had every intention of defending himself.
"Pity," the man answered, a note of regret in his tone. "Frankie."
The man to his left stepped forward then and with a flash of steel hurled knife directly at Melchior, catching him in the forehead. Scarlett screamed involuntarily as the blade sunk into Melchior's skull, killing him instantly. She stared in horror as his body slumped to the ground.
"The fuck, you assholes," she screamed at them, but the man had already drawn a sword and was pointing it directly at her.
"I pray you have more sense then your friend," he said. "I'll only ask you one more time. Will you join us?"
Scarlett's eyes were fixed on the point of the sword in front of her. Her knees were shaking so badly she felt that she could lose her balance at any moment. Unable to trust the sound of her own voice she simply nodded in response.
The man smiled then lowered his sword. "Welcome to Misery's Company," he said, "I'm Damien, the guild master. This here is Frankie." He gestured to his left. "And Tubbs," he finished with a gesture to his right.
"S--Scarlett," the Elf replied nervously.
Damien frowned. "That's your character name. What's your real name?"
She shook her head. "Just Scarlett."
He stared at her a moment then shrugged. "Fine," he said finally, then he half turned to look at the others. "Frankie, loot the body. Tubbs, disarm the girl and bind her hands."
"W--wait! I thought I was joining you!" Scarlett felt an overwhelming panic rising up deep within her stomach.
"Call it an initiation," he told her. "You'll get your knife back when I know I can trust you."
"You slimy motherfu--,"
"Ah ah ah," he said, raising his sword again, the tip of it just inches from her nose. "Don't forget my hospitality comes at a price."
Scarlet said nothing, her eyes trailing over to Melchior's body where Frankie was busy trying to strip him of his armor. In response she simply held out her hands and allowed Tubbs to take her dagger. He took some liberties as he checked her for other weapons, frisking her buttocks a little to freely. Scarlett ground her teeth together in shame but said nothing. She knew something like this was going to happen, but she was too afraid of Damien's sword to defend herself. When he tried to touch her chest, however, Damien suddenly reached out and snatched him by the wrist.
"That's enough," he whispered sharply, "Just bind her hands."
For a moment Scarlett was secretly relieved, even as Tubbs was tying a rope around her wrists. Damien's reaction had surprised her. She'd been imagining all sorts of horrors, but at the very least Damien didn't seem like the type.
"All done, Boss," Frankie announced as he straightened back up, holding Melchior's weapons and armor in a bundle under one arm. His forehead glistened with sweat. "Looting corpses was so much easier in the game," he muttered, wiping his forehead.
Scarlett glanced down at Melchior, who was now wearing nothing more than a linen shirt and trousers. Even his feet were bare. "You can't leave him like that," she said, "He doesn't deserve this."
Damien reached down and grabbed Melchior's backpack before slinging it over his shoulder. "The smell of his blood will draw the locals," he told her as he straightened back up. "We'll be able to make our way out of the woods while they chow down on his body."
The Elf's eyes widened in horror. They were going to leave him to be eaten. She opened her mouth to protest, but the coarse feeling of the rope binding her wrists was a subtle reminder to keep her mouth shut.
"Let's move," Damien said to the others, "I want to be back at the guildhall before sundown."
IC: “Hey, wake up,” a voice called to her through the darkness, urgent and afraid. The girl stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, the light from the midday sun almost blinding her. There was a man staring at her, his features muddied and blurred. He seemed anxious, his lips moved but the words were lost to the howling of a wind that only she could hear. A thunderclap sounded inside her mind, followed by the ringing of her ears. A storm was brewing, but it couldn’t have been, the sky was clear. More ringing followed, like a chorus of tuning forks singing in an open meadow. Images of men danced at the periphery of her perception. She half-turned, tilting her head to the side. The disjointed chaos of her vision coalesced into the clear image of a man stabbed through the heart. Fear gripped her then, her chest pounding. The sound of it thundering inside her head. She moved like a wounded animal, scraping and clawing at the ground trying to get away. A battle raged behind her. Armored men carrying shields, biting and clawing at each other with swords, axes and spears. The man from before pursued her, hands gripping at her shoulders. “This way,” he shouted at her. His voice rising above the din of battle as he lifted her off the ground. She fought back in a daze, arms and legs thrashing about struggling to get free. “Let me go,” she cried, but at the sound of her own voice she froze. Was that me?!
"Scarlett, for fuck's sake stop fucking around! I’m not going to hurt you,” the man assured her. He hefted her up onto her feet and she finally got a look at his face. He appeared young, piercing gray eyes set in a hard chiseled face under a mat of messy brown hair. About a day’s worth stubble covered his chin and a thin scar stretched from his left temple to his cheek. He wore a drab robe over a mail shirt and linen trousers under leather greaves atop muddied boots. In one hand he carried his sword while the other he used to support her weight. More than this, though, she recognized him.
"M–Melchior?!"
**********
Scarlett could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She and Melchior had been running for what felt like hours, her legs felt drained, her body was sore and the ringing in her ears had not ceased. One more step and she collapsed heavily into a tree. Somehow she managed to catch herself before falling and took a moment to rest her head on the trunk. She could feel the rough bark of the tree against her cheek and the stickiness of its sap between her fingers. None of this was a dream, it was all so very real.
"Hey, hey, easy," Melchior said as he came up behind her. "You're still not used to being in that body, but the dizziness will fade eventually."
"Where are we," she asked, still not quite used to the sound of her voice.
"The Old Wood, near as I can tell. It's a newbie starting area."
The girl half turned and fixed him with a hard stare. "You're not seriously suggesting we're in the game."
Melchior shrugged. "Got no other explanation for it. I mean, I'm me and well, you're you. Seems pretty self-evident that's where we are... Unless you've always been a hot Elven chick with red hair."
Red hair? She hadn't even thought about it until he brought it up. With her clean hand she reached up and grabbed a lock of her hair, holding it out in front of her. Upon seeing its pigment her eyes widened with surprise.
"Gonna take that as a no," Melchior continued. "Anyway, we should keep going once you're able to move. These woods aren't safe at night."
"I thought you said this was a newbie starting area."
He nodded. "I did, but there are still monsters living in these woods. I'm not looking forward to running into them after the sun goes down."
Monsters in the woods... On some level she probably knew that, but she hadn't even thought about it until he brought it up. She knew from her limited experience in the game that the monsters in this area weren't very strong. Just kobolds and the like, nothing too scary for a level one adventurer. Though, looking at it from the other side of a computer screen was completely different. She let her hair fall back onto her shoulder before reaching down to grasp the hilt of the dagger at her hip.
"Do you know how to use that," he asked as she drew the weapon and held it up in front of her.
She silently shook her head.
"Neither do I," he added, patting the hilt of the sword at his side. "All the more reason to get out of these woods." He stepped closer to her and reached out to offer her support.
Scarlett ignored him for the moment and stared distantly at the blade of her dagger. "If we die here, do we come back? Or...," she let the rest trail off into nothing.
"I don't know," he told her, "but it didn't seem like anyone was getting back up after--," the words caught in his throat, but it was clear what he meant. The image of that man with a sword plunged through his chest was forever burned into her memory.
She closed her eyes but that did nothing to banish the horror from her mind. "Those men back there, who were they?"
"Gankers," he explained, "They cornered us on the field at the edge of the wood before we all woke up here. Killed our healer in the opening attack. He was gurgling on his blood when I opened my eyes."
Scarlett's eyes widened as a sudden realization dawned on her. He woke up in a body that was dying. She felt a shiver run down her spine. She barely knew the man, or for that matter Melchior. She had only joined them last night for a single quest. They never even made it that far before some other players attacked them in the wilderness. No one deserves to die like that.
"Guess the fighter and the healer were close friends," Melchior continued. "After his friend died he charged at the gankers, sword raised even though they were just as confused as we were. The whole situation just kind of devolved from there and, well... You know the rest."
She did and she didn't care to remember it. Pushing those thoughts aside she put her dagger back in its sheath then tried to heave herself up off the tree, but another dizzy spell caused her to collapse back into it.
"Hey, easy," Melchior told her as he gently grabbed her by the waist and threw her arm over his shoulder. "Just lean on me for a bit, alright?"
The girl balked at his touch, staring daggers down at his hand on her hip. "Hey," she cried, but he was already half carrying her, half dragging her through the woods. Scarlett ground her teeth together in frustration but said nothing else. Melchior was right, they couldn't stay here. They weren't that far from the battle and there were even more dangers lying in wait for them among the trees. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed his help.
**********
A rustling of ferns followed by the hollow thumping of hooves broke the stillness of the forest. High above a congress of ravens take flight, cawing and beating their wings against the air. A breeze whistled through the trees, creaking branches and disturbing the leaves. While the steady thumping of some far-off woodpecker filled her ears. An abundance of life and sound but Scarlett could only focus on the things that were missing. Like the sound of cars whizzing past them. The hustle and bustle of people moving shoulder to shoulder down a busy street. Or the loud howling of a policeman's siren. She really had woken up in a different world.
"I think we're about halfway through the wood," Melchior said suddenly, startling her.
"What," she asked, turning to look at him.
"I think we're about halfway through," he repeated, then he looked at her closer. "Are you alright?"
She shook her head. "I'm fine, it's just--this forest is really loud.
He gave her a curious look. "Loud? What are you--," his words trailed off as a sudden realization dawned on him. "You're a Wood Elf."
"No I'm not, I'm--," she tried to object but he cut her short with a wave of his hand.
"I know, I know, but you--Scarlett's a Wood Elf," he corrected himself. "Elves have enhanced hearing and vision."
Did she? She hadn't really noticed, aside from the hearing, that is, but enhanced vision? She lifted her head to look at her surroundings, turning her gaze this way and that. Nothing but spruce, oak and birch trees as far as she could see. Dense thickets of ferns and brush camouflaged their roots. All around her she could hear but not see birds squawking, animals scurrying. All of it punctuated by the ever-present sound of leaves rustling in the wind.
"Do you see anything," Melchior asked.
"Yea," she answered, "A fuck ton of trees."
He made a face at her. "Probably hard to tell the difference in the middle of a forest. Maybe after we're--," his words cut off sharply at the sound of a twig snapping in two. All at once he drew his sword, startling Scarlett who took two steps backward and nearly fell over.
"Dude! What the hell are you--," she started, but her words drew up short as three hooded figures emerged from the trees.
"Easy there, friend, we're not here to fight you," the one in the middle said, holding up his hands so they could see.
Scarlett immediately noticed the ring on his finger and a sudden memory from the battle intruded into her mind. The sword that killed the man in front of her, the hand attached to it bore the same ring. "You," she whispered sharply, "You're the guys who attacked us."
The leader of the trio lowered his hands. "Yes, we did, but to be fair this world was still a game when we killed your friend."
"And the others," Melchior asked pointedly.
The man shifted his gaze to him. "Regrettable," he admitted, "but they attacked us first."
"What the shit kind of excuse is that?! You killed someone," Scarlett shouted at him and to her surprise the man's expression shifted to one of remorse.
"I'm not proud of it," he said, "Before waking up here he was just a collection of pixels on a screen. I'd never actually seen anyone die before. At least, not for real."
"What do you want," Melchior demanded.
The man shrugged. "We saw you flee into the woods during the battle," he answered. "If you're players of the game then you know what's in here. The two of you alone, traveling at night... There is strength in numbers, you know. You should join us."
Scarlett scoffed at him. "That's rich coming from you. You guys are murderers, why would we ever join you?"
"Protection," he said simply. "I see you're armed, but do either of you know how to fight?"
Scarlett cast a glance over her shoulder at Melchior who bore the same uncertain look in his eye.
"I'll take that as a no," he continued after their brief exchange. "Look, this world ain't like the one we just came from. Here the only thing that matters is survival. Join us and we'll keep you safe."
"And if we say no?" Melchior said, his hand tightening on the grip of his sword.
He shrugged. "Well, then I'm afraid we're going to have to ask you for your weapons and armor."
"Bullshit," Scarlett snapped. The thought of taking off her clothes in front of this man...
He fixed her with a hard stare. "You two try to cross these woods alone you'll die and then your items will go to waste. As I said, it's a matter of survival. In this world a sword is more valuable than gold."
"Go fuck yourself," Melchior shouted, gripping his sword in both hands. The tip of his blade shook nervously, but the way he set his feet announced to the others that he had every intention of defending himself.
"Pity," the man answered, a note of regret in his tone. "Frankie."
The man to his left stepped forward then and with a flash of steel hurled knife directly at Melchior, catching him in the forehead. Scarlett screamed involuntarily as the blade sunk into Melchior's skull, killing him instantly. She stared in horror as his body slumped to the ground.
"The fuck, you assholes," she screamed at them, but the man had already drawn a sword and was pointing it directly at her.
"I pray you have more sense then your friend," he said. "I'll only ask you one more time. Will you join us?"
Scarlett's eyes were fixed on the point of the sword in front of her. Her knees were shaking so badly she felt that she could lose her balance at any moment. Unable to trust the sound of her own voice she simply nodded in response.
The man smiled then lowered his sword. "Welcome to Misery's Company," he said, "I'm Damien, the guild master. This here is Frankie." He gestured to his left. "And Tubbs," he finished with a gesture to his right.
"S--Scarlett," the Elf replied nervously.
Damien frowned. "That's your character name. What's your real name?"
She shook her head. "Just Scarlett."
He stared at her a moment then shrugged. "Fine," he said finally, then he half turned to look at the others. "Frankie, loot the body. Tubbs, disarm the girl and bind her hands."
"W--wait! I thought I was joining you!" Scarlett felt an overwhelming panic rising up deep within her stomach.
"Call it an initiation," he told her. "You'll get your knife back when I know I can trust you."
"You slimy motherfu--,"
"Ah ah ah," he said, raising his sword again, the tip of it just inches from her nose. "Don't forget my hospitality comes at a price."
Scarlet said nothing, her eyes trailing over to Melchior's body where Frankie was busy trying to strip him of his armor. In response she simply held out her hands and allowed Tubbs to take her dagger. He took some liberties as he checked her for other weapons, frisking her buttocks a little to freely. Scarlett ground her teeth together in shame but said nothing. She knew something like this was going to happen, but she was too afraid of Damien's sword to defend herself. When he tried to touch her chest, however, Damien suddenly reached out and snatched him by the wrist.
"That's enough," he whispered sharply, "Just bind her hands."
For a moment Scarlett was secretly relieved, even as Tubbs was tying a rope around her wrists. Damien's reaction had surprised her. She'd been imagining all sorts of horrors, but at the very least Damien didn't seem like the type.
"All done, Boss," Frankie announced as he straightened back up, holding Melchior's weapons and armor in a bundle under one arm. His forehead glistened with sweat. "Looting corpses was so much easier in the game," he muttered, wiping his forehead.
Scarlett glanced down at Melchior, who was now wearing nothing more than a linen shirt and trousers. Even his feet were bare. "You can't leave him like that," she said, "He doesn't deserve this."
Damien reached down and grabbed Melchior's backpack before slinging it over his shoulder. "The smell of his blood will draw the locals," he told her as he straightened back up. "We'll be able to make our way out of the woods while they chow down on his body."
The Elf's eyes widened in horror. They were going to leave him to be eaten. She opened her mouth to protest, but the coarse feeling of the rope binding her wrists was a subtle reminder to keep her mouth shut.
"Let's move," Damien said to the others, "I want to be back at the guildhall before sundown."
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