The Beatdown Brigade

I could hardly breathe.

Anubis, what have you become?

Blade edges bit angrily into one another as what had once been my lovable pet companion—now upright warrior—stood off against my assailant. The much-larger foe bore down on him, but Anubis didn’t seem to be giving any ground.

“This is your master?” Stratholm demanded, his eyes flicking towards me and then quickly back to Anubis.

“He’s too low level,” he continued, grunting with effort. “I call bullshit. He's a total newbie. No one's master would be this oblivious.”

Stratholm sneered.

"Unless, you're just as weak as him?"

In response, Anubis simply leaned forward, pushing harder against the devil-man's guard.

"Try me," he snarled.

Just as I began to wonder if they’d stay locked up like that forever, Stratholm sprang a few feet back, keeping his blade up for protection. His feet began to glow with a dark, foggy light. It seemed steam was rising from the ground beneath him.

“You’d better Mistwalk away from here, coward,” Anubis said, bringing his blade up defensively, and gripping it in both hands, “I will cut you to ribbons otherwise.”

Anubis, when the hell did you get so... cool?

“Yeah, fuck you. I’m going, dude,” Stratholm said, defeated, “don’t try to follow me, either.”

The creature's legs had been obscured by the same fog as his feet, and the rest of his body followed. After a moment, the mist dispersed, and Stratholm was gone. Anubis kept his eyes narrowed and focused, his sword still at the ready, presumably to make sure that Stratholm was true to his word.

Beyond the edge of the rock facing, two sparkling pillars of light appeared. Columns of blue and yellow crackling energy shot into the sky, and in a flash, were gone. A moment later, a third pillar appeared and dispersed near the tree line the same way.

“Good,” Anubis said, visibly relaxing and lowering his blade. He turned around and slid his sword into the sheath at his side, regarding me very seriously.

Suddenly, the stern look dissolved. His mouth fell open, and before I could react, he was running straight at me.

“Master,” he shouted, grabbing me in his tiny arms, “I missed you so much!”

He was a few feet shorter than me, about the height of a five-year-old, but he felt strong. His peered up at me, his tongue dangling from one side. There were tears in his eyes. He was the picture of joy.

I reciprocated by hugging the anthromorphized pup in return. He was acting much different than a moment ago. No longer the authoritative rescuer, he was almost childlike in his glee.

This is such a strange experience.

For about the millionth time that day, I questioned my sanity, but quickly dismissed my doubts.

Insane or not, let’s see where this goes.

“Master, I’m so happy to see you! I didn’t know where you were or how I was going to find you, but I had a feeling if I just kept hope that eventually, I’d see you again! Kellmen thought I was crazy, but I knew that if I just kept searching, then you’d show up and then—”

“Anubis,” I said, chuckling, “calm down, buddy. Take a breath.” I stroked the top of his head like I’d done countless times in the past.

Was this what it was like to have kids?

He smiled up at me, his tail wagging. I beamed back at him.

Definitely.

“Let’s take this slow, okay?” I said, releasing the hug and sitting back against the cold rock.

Anubis nodded happily, plopped down into a sitting position, and started taking his boots off. He struggled with the first boot, and it came off with a dull pop. Then he jovially busied himself with the next.

“What were those things?” I asked, flicking my head where the attackers had vanished.

“Oh, Master, those are members of Malicious Intent. The one I squared up against was a Fomorian Scamp of some type, I’d imagine. Oh, and the other two were Fomorian Warriors,” Anubis announced casually.

“Fomorian,” I said, nodding, “so that’s what those devil things are called…”

Once his boots were removed, Anubis gestured, and a Menu sprang to life in front of his clawed digits. It was the same circular interface that popped up when I had interacted with the campfire. The tendrils of the image wrapped around him in midair.

Anubis selected a few options. The boots in front of him split into sections and materialized into several long strips of leather and a clump of metal. Then he unclasped the cloak draped from his shoulders. After a few option presses, that too seemed to deconstruct into its base components. A thin fold of dingy fabric sat next to the leather and metal on the ground.

Anubis looked up at me, and cocked his head to the side. It was a familiar movement from back when he didn't walk on two legs.

“Master. This might take a moment. Is that alright?”

I shrugged.

“What might take a moment?”

He smiled back, his tongue lolling to the side again.

“I’m crafting a shirt and boots for you, Master," he said, "so that you don’t freeze.”

I nodded.

“...sure—Hey Anubis, why do you keep calling me Master?”

His black and white face froze, and then he chuckled.

“Because you’re my master, Master,” he said as if that explanation were obvious. Then, without elaborating, he returned to his work, picking up the leather and procuring a large needle and thick thread from his lap.

I stood, stretching. Instinctually, Anubis’ eyes snapped to my direction, but he seemed to catch himself, and went back to his crafting.

“No," I continued, "I mean, I’m not a ‘master,’ I’ve always felt like you were kind of my kid. Just call me Vale, maybe? Master seems too...weird.”

Anubis nodded.

“Sure thing, Master Vale.”

I sighed.

“We’ll workshop it.”

He didn’t respond, so I prodded a bit.

“Anubis, what happened to you and Lina?”

I’d been too afraid to ask at first, hoping he’d have offered up the information on his own, but my companion seemed blissfully content to just be in my presence.

“Oh,” he started, pausing his work, “she’s gone. I don’t know where.”

Without bothering to go into detail, he continued looping thread through the strips.

“What? What do you mean?” I asked, "wasn’t she right ahead of you?"

I began searching the tree line, incredulous.

"She couldn’t have gone far," I continued, "that was at most... three hours ago. Four, maybe? If we get going now, we can still probably find her.”

Anubis’ hands stopped midair. His eyes met mine.

“Master,” he began gravely, setting down the leather, “that was many months ago.”

“WHAT?!” I shouted. I hadn’t meant to scream, but I felt like my heart had stopped.

“Please, Master… Vale, you must be calm.”

I was getting a headache and pinched my temples. I rotated my fingers in small circles and then switched to rubbing my neck. My tension was ridiculous.

“I’m calm. Just tell me what happened after you came through.”

“Yes, Master,” Anubis said, "I'm not exactly sure what happened, but when I emerged from the portal, I found myself in these woods a few miles from here. I was scared. Confused. I didn’t know where I was or the circumstances, but I noticed something new. I was wonderfully aware.”

He finished one boot, and began work on the other.

“The world had changed me. It made me intelligent beyond my wildest imaginings. It had also given me the fine motor skills to walk about on two legs, to climb trees, to wield a sword. However, I knew that I was alone. Alone and searching for Master—er Lina," he looked sheepishly at me.

“She was gone. I couldn’t catch her scent, and I didn’t think you’d appear for some time.”

“Why did you think that?” I asked.

“Because, Master Vale," he stated, "you are a coward.”

That hit me like a ton of bricks.

“What? Anubis, why would you call me that?”

He cocked his head to the side again.

“I thought you knew this about yourself, Master Vale. You have always been very frightened by things. It is why I have always endeavored to protect you.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Protect me?

“I was your protector Anubis. I fed you, sheltered you, and, despite my initial reservations—clothed you! I kept you safe!”

“You were my provider, Master, but not my protector. Master Lina was our protector.”

Our?

My own dog thought I was a coward. Anubis was keen to read my expression.

“It is okay, Master Vale. Cowardice is natural, but you have other abilities. Consider what you said yourself, a moment ago. You took care of my basic needs. You provided shelter and food, and kept me groomed when I could not do these things myself. I am aware of the disparity between my current state and my former. However, I am grateful, regardless. You are my Master.”

“Buddy, you’re blowing my fucking mind,” I said, trying to diffuse the apparently one-sided tension.

“So you haven’t seen Lina in...how long did you say?”

“Six months. Give or take. At least, in this place, it’s been that long. Time, I think, might work differently here than back home.”

He shrugged. I stayed silent as he finished the other boot, and watched as he worked to carefully assemble the cloak scraps. In less than a minute, the cloth had transformed into a nicely folded shirt. The clothing was a bit medieval-looking, but would do.

When in Rome...

I was impressed with how quickly Anubis had created the apparel and considered the items at his feet.

Crafting seems infinitely less time-consuming here.

“Please,” he said, reaching for the set and moving them near me. A window popped up.

Anubis would like to trade with you!

Yes/No

I selected yes, and another window expanded. Items populated. I realized there was a button for my own inventory, but once again, it was grey. Did that mean I didn’t actually have anything?

Will you accept...?

[ Durable ] Leather Boots

[ Clothing ]

Rarity: Super Common

Type: Greaves

Durability: 40 / 40

[Okay] Linen Shirt

[ Clothing ]

Rarity: Super Common

Durability: 2 / 2

Bluebell Potion [ x 1 ]

Type: Healing

Restores 60 Health Points over 60 Seconds.

Accept | Decline

I accepted all three items, and another message popped up.

Would you like to use Bluebell Potion [ x 1 ] ?

Yes / No

I selected yes. Instantly, the Potion appeared in my hand. The first thing I noticed was that it was roughly the size and dimensions of a bottle of beer. It had the same long neck and body, except the lower section of the vessel was a bit more stout. It was loosely sealed with a cork stopper, so I flicked it off onto the ground with my thumb.

A fine, obscuring vapor tumbled out of the open neck of the bottle, but seemed heavier than air. The fog spilled over the lip and made a slow tumble to the rocks below, puffing out in intermittent plumes. It reminded me of the way dry ice reacts in warm water and I used my left hand to muss and pinch the fog, playing with it, and watching it disperse around my fingertips as it coasted down.

Anubis cleared his throat.

"Master," he said, "you drink it, not bathe in it."

I chuckled.

"Fair enough," I said, "down the hatch."

I lifted the smoking barrel to my lips and tilted my head back, prepping my tastebuds to receive that disgusting medicinal taste that most prescription drugs had.

This is probably going to taste like mint buttholes.

However, as the liquid touched my tongue, I found I had been delightfully mistaken. The liquid was room temperature, not too cool or warm, and had the same taste and consistency as sugar water.

Finally, something is looking up in this place!

As I swallowed, I felt my bodyheat increase. A warm blanket of magical energy wrapped me in its comforting embrace, and sparkles of green light danced along my arms, legs and chest. I felt a similar sensation inside my body as well, and I watched as my HP slowly began to return to me, one second at a time.

I smiled over at Anubis, who beamed in return and winked.

Another message sprang up.

Would you like to equip [ Durable ] Leather Boots ?

Yes / No

I selected yes, and did the same when the prompt appeared again for the shirt.

Instantly, I was warmer. The clothing had already materialized on my torso and feet. It still felt odd to suddenly have fabric and leather enclose me without actually putting them on. I wasn’t sure if I’d get used to that.

“These fit…well.” I was surprised.

“I can craft cloth and low-Level leather for any of the Player Races. I just set the specifications to ‘she’ so that you could wear it.”

He saw my look and chuckled.

“S-I-D-H-E,” he said, spelling it out, “it’s pronounced like ‘she’.”

“It’s a very intuitive pronunciation,” I said, incredulously, “so, you’re trying to tell me we are actually in a video game?”

Anubis wiggled his feet and leaned back against the log.

“One thing at a time, please, Master,” he said and looked off at the river forging ever steadily beyond.

“Sidhe. I believe it’s based around the pronunciation customs of the Gaels. This whole world seems to be based on Celtic folklore. Your Character Race is a Sidhe, a race known for its increased Agility. In fact—“

“Anubis!” a voice called from far off. Both Anubis’ head and mine snapped toward the sound.

At the entrance to the forest, just beyond the rocky flat clearing we were sitting in, appeared several forms. I couldn’t make out much, but I saw armor. Lots of armor. My heart leaped into my throat, and I shot to my feet, tightening my grip on the Shattered Wood.

“Who’s that?” I whispered, nervousness creeping into my blood.

Anubis squinted his eyes. Clearly unable to tell, but then he sniffed the air in a long, slow drag, and his serious expression melted into a smile. He quarter-turned toward me and winked.

“Just some friends of mine, Master Vale.”

In a few moments, the group had met us at the little campsite. Dressed in a motley of colorful armaments, the warriors carried themselves with the swagger of those who knew they were capable fighters.

There were four of them, each a bizarrely contrasting race. Still, all were united with the glowing indicator of beneath their names.

A Human—that was easy to tell—was leading the pack, but there were also two races I hadn’t encountered yet.

A tall, thin, amphibious-looking creature with grey-green skin and closely cropped black hair leaned lazily against a gnarled wooden staff.

Next was a four-and-a-half-foot-tall bearded being with long, downward-facing ears and a wide, toothy smile stretched across his face.

In the back stood a Sidhe—I could recognize now—with pinkish skin mottled by the telltale scrawl of the racial design on it. He had a scowl carved into his face.

Someone already doesn’t find me very trustworthy.

The human in blue chainmail, seemingly the leader, approached first. He had shaggy, black hair and caramel-colored skin and on his chin rested a neatly manicured patch of beard. He was taller than I was, possibly even more than my real body had been, with broad shoulders and a commanding presence.

“Anubis, who’s your pal?” he said, his voice kind and jovial.

“This is my—this is Master Vale,” the pup extolled happily. He placed a hand on my arm as if to shove me forward and looked back and forth between the group and me.

With a natural confidence and a friendly smile, the human extended his hand and grasped my forearm while I did the same.

“Master Vale,” he said, giving my arm a firm pump before releasing, “well met. I’m Kellmen, Human Knight.”

“Please,” I said, shaking my head, “just Vale. The master thing is a new development I’m not sold on.”

Then, finding my manners, I returned the greeting.

“Well met, Kellmen.” I looked over at the others who had not yet moved.

“Kellmen is Guildmaster of the Beatdown Brigade, Master Vale,” Anubis said, “they call him Kellmen the Cursed. He is the one who has been training me.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot of masters now, Anubis,” I said, winking at Kellmen.

I wonder why they call him the Cursed?

“Master collector, collector of Masters,” said the tall, amphibious one. He had a strange, comical voice. He was dressed in a brown cloak covered in patterns and hanging below his throat was a necklace of bone. No one else seemed to pay him any mind. He didn’t continue, so I turned back to Kellmen.

“That’s Berieal,” he said, poking his thumb over his shoulder at the tall creature, “he’s a Lochan Shaman.”

Next, he pointed at the shortest member of their group, who was eyeing me almost mischievously. He had a well-maintained and quite voluminous copper-colored beard. It ran along his jaw but didn’t climb up his face, and there was no moustache to speak of. It reminded me of the Amish. He was dressed in dyed-green leather armor. Along his hip was an array of pouches and bottles.

“This is—” Kellmen began, but the other interrupted him.

“I’m Tibbets!” he said, grasping my arm, “Clurichaun Prowler. It’s in the Scamp tree.”

“Well met Tib—“ I started.

“Whatcha got in there?” he interrupted, pointing at something at my waist. Confused, I looked down and was met with a finger flicking the end of my nose. A trick.

“Gotcha!” Tibbets said, smiling wide. He seemed satisfied and looked over at Kellmen, who rolled his eyes.

Kellmen gestured to the last member of the party, the Sidhe in the white breastplate.

“That’s Iam. Like ‘I Am’,” Kellmen said, “Sidhe Templar.”

The Sidhe nodded and crossed his arms.

“He’s actually a pretty cool bloke,” Tibbets said, winking.

My eyes met Iam’s, but he didn’t look away. His stare was intense and made me a little uncomfortable.

“I’ll be honest,” I said, shrugging my shoulders, “I’m not really sure what’s going on, how I got here, or anything. I’m not even one hundred percent sure this is real.”

Kellmen spread his arms out and turned in a slow circle.

“None of us know how we got here, man, so no worries! We all start from nothing and have to work our way into something. It’s a fantastic equalizer.”

I looked around. It was nearing late afternoon, and a chill was starting to creep into my bones. I shivered a little and rubbed my own arms for warmth.

Kellmen noticed and chuckled.

“It can get cold here since it’s permanently misty-bullshit-o’clock. Here.”

He motioned to Berieal. The Lochan stepped forward stiffly and opened his Menu.

A trade window opened in front of me.

Berieal would like to trade with you!

Yes/No

I confirmed and waited for the continued prompt.

What was he giving me?

Will you accept

[ Okay ] Leather Jerkin ?

[ Armor ]

Rarity: Common

Durability: 15 / 20

+1 to Shield

Accept | Decline

“It isn’t much, but your weary bones could do with a bit of warming,” Berieal said, his smile goofy and crooked. His way of speaking was almost as unnerving as Iam’s gaze.

I accepted and equipped the jerkin, feeling that now familiar sensation of immediate additional warmth. Berieal was right, it wasn’t much. But it did help a bit.

“So, what happened?” Kellmen asked, looking at Anubis seriously, “you took off like a bat out of hell and didn’t say anything.”

Anubis nodded, brandishing his blade, and pointed to the fire pit.

“I caught Master Vale’s scent, and as I approached, I could smell others wrapped in the odor of Malicious Intent. Three Squishies were attacking him, two of which he felled himself. The third was giving him a hard time, so I stepped in.”

He seemed proud, and I nodded.

“Yeah, those guys were very stereotypical villains in their bloodthirsty drive to kill me. Like, I did not do anything to them, and they wanted to punish me for it.”

“Classic Mals,” Tibbets said, shaking his head, “they pop a huge boner for power tripping, and they have “tipping the balance” in their motto, so the noobies usually misconstrue that as meaning general cliche mayhem. Filthy fucks.”

“Well,” Kellmen said, slapping me on the shoulder, “it’s pretty impressive that you were able to take out two Squishies on your own!”

He turned to Anubis.

“What Level were they?”

Anubis shrugged.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t see, but the one I squared off against was Level Four, and it appears Master Vale was able to hold his own for quite some time.”

“Fucking nice!” Tibbets said, also slapping me on the back.

“Is that good?” I asked.

“It’ll do, Nubby,” Tibbets said, and then paused, staring at my feet, “your boot laces are undone.”

I didn’t take the bait.

“Dude, my whole life is undone,” I said, “drinking, drugs, jumping through portals. The holy trinity, really. I’m glad I got transported here because my next step after that was going straight to the hard stuff.”

“Heroin?” Tibbets offered.

“Nah, dude. Wine coolers.”

Tibbets burst into a fit of laughter that sounded very forced. He pointed right at me while clutching his stomach in a dramatic flourish.

“I like you Nubby, you’re good people.”

I mockingly bowed back.

“Guys, let’s get going before these two run off into the sunset together,” Kellmen said, “the Noobie might also freeze to death, so let’s get somewhere warmer.”

Wait, wait, wait.

I had not consented to going anywhere yet. Especially so abruptly and out of the blue. I had just met these guys, and I’d need some information before diving into the woods with them.

“Get going where?” I asked, perhaps a bit too harshly.

Kellmen caught my tone and spread his hands out diplomatically.

“We will need to get out of Miodóg before dusk. It’s a Phase Turn area, so after the sun goes down, it’s a Skully hellhole.”

I blinked.

“Yeah, I only understood like two of those words.”

Kellmen chuckled.

“Sorry, I forgot you’re still noob-cruisin’. My bad, dude.”

Quickly, the Guildmaster swiped open his Menu and selected a few options before pausing.

“Com’ere!” he called, waving me over.

I moved around behind him. I noticed the other members of his party cautiously looking around the area, peering off into the distance. They were on their guard, hands hovering above their weapons.

I looked over Kellmen’s shoulder and saw that he had pulled up a map. It showed the area we were in. I could see a river coursing through a forest, and slightly to the right of the bank was a rotating red marker.

That’s Kellmen.

Clustered around the red dot were four additional black indicators.

The other members of the party.

Scrawled across the top was the marquee of the territory.

Aimsir

“What’s ‘Aim-ser’?”

“It’s pronounced Em-sher,” Kellmen corrected, “weird Celtic pronunciation, I think. We believe that it’s the name of the realm we are in.”

“Believe?” I asked, “you guys don’t know?”

Berieal shrugged and spoke up.

“No one really knows what machinations deus ex’d us here. Waking up with no memory in a strange land with very specific regulations fits a lot of tropes for fantasy novels and video games. Everyone has their own theories. Some are sound. Others are crazier than Kellmen over here.” He nudged in the human’s direction with his elbow and made a circular motion next to his temple with his finger.

“For instance, Tibbets thinks it’s an alien abduction.”

“No, I don’t,” Tibbets said, looking offended.

“...and Anubis thinks we are the playthings of some god.”

Anubis scowled. “What? That’s not accurate at-“

“You know what I reckon?” Berieal interrupted, sidling forward, our faces inches apart, his large yellow eyes eerily blinked at me.

“...what do you reckon?” I asked timidly.

“I reckon we’re all dead.”

I was almost too unnerved to engage.

“Why?” I asked, albeit hesitantly.

“Because,” he said, and began and quickly whirled around in a circle with his arms outstretched and his head thrown back, “this HAS to be heaven!”

He stopped and then launched forward, taking me by surprise. He grabbed me by the shirt collar as if to attack me, but instead, he just smiled crookedly, and nodded urgently, his necklace of bones rattling.

“Don’t you think so?” he asked, cocking his head to the side, “the combat, the magick, the bodacious babes! We are experiencing something amazing, and we should consider ourselves lucky to be part of this event!” Tears were welling up in his eyes.

“Alright,” Kellmen said, sliding his hands between us and breaking it up, “I think that level of intensity is too much, too soon for our noobie, Berieal.”

Berieal never dropped his smile but let go of my collar and nodded, his eyes staying on mine.

“Bodacious babes,” he said as he nodded one final time for emphasis.

“What the fuck?” I asked.

“Never mind Berieal,” Kellmen said, turning me to face the map again. I shook my heebie-jeebies off and focused. I began to search the headings of different areas. Next to Kellmen’s identifier was a label.

Miodóg Forest (Lvl 3)

“So, what’s the Level mean?” I asked, finally getting back on track.

“Oh!” Kellmen said as he clicked on it. A little icon of three trees cropped up, and a description filled in below it.

“So, that tells you the minimum suggested Level for a Player if they plan on venturing in a location,” Kellmen said, pointing to the variable, “and if the area has a minimum suggestion of more than ten Levels higher than your current one, it will just show up as a skull. Those are what we call Skullies.”

He looked over his shoulder at me.

“Following so far?”

I nodded, and he continued.

“Miodóg is a Phase Turn area. There are different difficulties based on the time of day you’re entering it. After dusk, the creature encounters go from a minimum three to probably somewhere in the thirties. Which means death for everyone.”

“Everyone?” I asked.

“Everyone,” Kellmen confirmed.

“No one knows what the nighttime level of the forest is?” I asked.

“Doubtful,” Kellmen answered, ”for instance, I’m in the top twenty out of all the Players for Level, yet I’m only Level seventeen. The highest-Level Player so far is only nineteen, and even he doesn’t go to Miodóg alone after dark.”

I was perplexed. I felt that absorbing small amounts of information about this place would be better, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen. But, I didn’t want to be left behind, either.

“Alright,” I said, taking a breath, “so where are we heading?”

Kellmen poked one of the dots northeast of where we were.

“Gruoch. It’s a nice town that’s kind of out of the way, but it’s the closest to where we are now. Plus, it’s not far from a Portal Gate.”

He removed the satchel hanging from his waist. He unclamped it and stuck his hand inside and removed a shimmering, iridescent blue stone with a wonderfully crafted metal frame wrapped around it. Beneath the surface of the rock, a shifting, swirling pattern of ancient letters bubbled up and receded, almost like the answer die of a Magic 8-Ball.

“Normally we’d just use our Home Stones, but you have to marry them to a location. That wouldn’t help you at all because you’d just end up right back here. Sorry, bro.”

“That’s alright,” I said, and Kellmen placed the stone back in the pouch and closed it.

“I’m just along for the ride,” I continued, “show me what I need to know.”

“When we get back to C.A., I’ll help you out with your Home Stone and get you set up.”

“What’s C.A.?” I asked.

“Oh, sorry. That’s an abbreviation for Caraig Abhainn,” Kellmen stated, gesturing to a spot far off of the map, “it’s one of the largest discovered cities in this world.”

“Sweet,” I said, greedily rubbing my hands together, “I can’t wait to get my hands on one of those Home Stones.”

Kellmen stopped.

“You should already have one.”

“Uh…” I said, quickly looking around my waist. I didn’t even have a physical knapsack on hand.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Kellmen scowled.

“You’ve got to have it somewhere,” he clapped and cleared his throat, “no worries, we’ll figure it out!”

“Cool,” I said, shrugging, “like I said, teach me how to survive and do stuff, and I’ll be very grateful.”

“Alright,” Kellmen announced to his posse, pointing off into the trees.

“Our mounts are back a ways on the trails. Vale, you’re going to need to ride with Berieal.”

The Guildmaster turned back to me with an apologetic smile.

“Hope that’s okay?”

“It’s perfectly fine,” I said.

I was more than happy to endure a little awkwardness to get a better idea of what was happening to me.

Anubis shot over next to me and opened his Menu. After a moment, the sword on his back was replaced with a quiver and bow.

“Nice,” I complimented, giving him a thumbs up. It was still so strange, interacting with him and pretending it was normal. There were already things I was noticing that had remained from reality. For instance, through the corner of my eye, I was aware that he kept staring at me, his mouth open and his tongue lolling.

Though, I had to admit, armed to the teeth and traveling with a group of warriors, he was very much the image of a protector now. A weird sense of pride washed over me as I admired this tough little guy.

As we reached the trees, a dark pathway wound down into the dark, dense forest. It was eerie, despite its beauty. Anubis left my side and took the lead down the trail, Tibbets close behind. Iam then took his turn. Berieal was next, and I was prompted to walk behind him. Kellmen brought up the rear.

“You guys definitely have a system down,” I said, throwing a glance at Kellmen, “is the Beatdown Brigade just you five?”

I heard a snort and, for the first time, the crack of Iam’s authoritative voice.

“Fuck, no.”

“Oh,” I said, looking at Kellmen in confusion. The Human smiled and made an apologetic gesture again. I had a feeling he was used to doing that.

“We have fifty-six members,” the warrior clarified, “we are a B-Rank Guild, which is just a way of saying we have the skill and numbers to take down a lot of other Guilds.”

Iam snorted.

“What’s the highest rank?” I asked.

“After B comes A, but the highest is S,” Kellmen said, “then it drops from C to D to E and the lowest is F. Every Guild starts at that rank.”

“A lot of them stay there,” Iam said.

Kellmen rolled his eyes.

“Nothing but facts out of you today, Iam” he said.

I chuckled.

“Is that a Warhammer?” I asked, intrigued at the weapon strapped to Kellmen’s back.

His eyebrows shot up and he nodded, reaching back and removing the beastly tool and hefting it in one hand. It had a three-foot handle, roughly the length of a sledgehammer, but, the head of the weapon was massive in comparison. Beautifully forged, it was easily four times the size of a typical sledgehammer head, looking more like an air conditioner strapped to a broom handle. I noticed it had an ornate letter C etched into the side.

“It is. This is the Constable. He’s my most ferocious companion.” He placed the hammer back and continued down the path.

After ten minutes, we reached a wide clearing under a patch of blue-grey sky. We found our mounts hitched to a post off to the side of a narrow dirt road which ran through the space.

Two were horses: one brown, one tan. The brown was a bit playful, I could tell. It happily clopped its hooves in the dirt as it noticed our arrival, letting out a gleeful whinny. The tan horse was more reserved, regarding our approach with a disinterested gaze. It was well-groomed with a shiny black saddle perched on its back.

There was a black pony with a lazy eye and an unkempt mane. However, it had a lovely red leather saddle and a bridle to match. A plethora of bags and other belongings hung from the overladen creature, but it didn’t seem to mind.

The next mount was breathtaking— a beautiful bird creature that resembled a giant, iridescent chicken. Its feathers were the color of the sunset—hues of red, purple, and orange blending with a pale yellow, and as we approached, Iam climbed onto it. He confidently settled in and picked up the reigns.

Behind them all lorded a massive goat. It’s fur was powder blue and it wore a striking purple saddle between its shoulders. The goat stared at me, full of judgment, it’s eyes never leaving mine.

Easy there, Goat Lord.

The pony belonged to Tibbets, which made sense for various reasons, chief among them that he wasn’t very big.

Anubis, just as small, climbed into the back of the brown horse. I realized once he was mounted that the horse must have still been young. While larger than the pony, it was still a great deal smaller than the other horse.

The tan horse was the ride for Berieal and I. As he easily slid into the saddle, I followed behind him. I hadn’t been on a horse since sixth-grade summer camp, so I was a bit gun-shy. Berieal turned to me over his shoulder and smiled.

“The horse bites,” he said.

“What?”

“My horse. She doesn’t like other people riding her. She bites.”

I stared at him and looked to Kellmen for confirmation, but he was already climbing onto Goat Lord and hadn’t seemed to notice. I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head.

“Okay, man,” I said, at a loss for words. I didn’t say anything else and just waited to depart, keeping clear of the horse’s muzzle.

“Right,” Kellmen said, leading the goat to the front of the group, “let’s just get to Gruoch. If we see any monsters, let’s just avoid them for now. We can’t run the risk of Noobie being killed on his first day here.”

I nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, I would very much like to not die,” I said.

“So don’t engage unless you have to,” Kellmen continued, pulling the reins and leading the beast to face the road. Goat Lord snorted as if in rebellion and a bit of steam escaped his nostrils.

“Unless, of course, we run into anyone from Holy Scubs,” Tibbets said, readying his pony behind Kellmen.

The Guildmaster paused and then nodded.

“Obviously,” he agreed, “fuck the Holy Scubs!”

“Fuck the Holy Scubs!” the rest of the Guild called back. At that moment, Kellmen spurred his mount forward and the goat took off at a dead sprint. Everyone followed suit.

Berieal was last to launch, keeping the horse steady and looking at me once again, curiously.

“You don’t smell right,” he announced, crinkling his nose.

“What do you mean?” I said, but my question was left unanswered. Berieal burst out laughing, his voice cracking as he did, his eyes never leaving mine. It was the maniacal glee of someone unhinged. Then he suddenly stopped, snapping to a state of neutrality as he slapped the reins against the horse’s neck.

And we were off.