Grumbling, Dave got up, his good mood ruined by extra rules on his already difficult diet. In theory it would be a huge deal, but it meant that scavenging was even further down the list of options. He was about to kick the remains of his victim into the sewer water, when he realised they likely had some items on them. Clothing had been torn away to get to the flesh underneath, but the pockets had kept hold of their contents. Looking through them, he found a handful of silver, a compass and a piece of paper with a word written on it.

“I hope this wasn’t someone he was supposed to meet up with. Or is it a password? Or his own name, in case he forgot?” he wondered idly as he put his shirt back on. The bloodstains were a problem, but hopefully his jacket could cover them up well enough until he could clean them off. In fact, he thought as he began climbing the ladder, considering how much time he’d spent in the sewer a change of clothes was definitely in order.

The only problem there was the only tailor he knew... wasn’t going to be working today. Lindel, the elf he’d met at the bar seemed the sort who’d know where he could find some cheap clothing, especially if money was a tight as she claimed. How did a religious group like that run out of money anyway? Sure that armour probably wasn’t cheap, but if the gods were the sort to take direct action, wouldn’t people make donations?

This line of questioning kept circling in his mind as he walked back to the swill, distracting him from any looks people gave him for walking along with blood spatter and no shoes. It was probably only luck that no guard stopped and questioned him, but he made it back to the Swill, walking in with a much better mood than he’d left in.

“Ah, you’re back already!” Lindel said, spotting him entering from a seat across the room. “I wasn’t sure when you’d...Goddess! What happened to you?” she cried, leaping up and rushing over to him.

“What are you talking about?”

“The blood! Are you hurt badly, or should I get a healer or-”

Say you fell by the butchers stall.

The words arrived in his head without him hearing anything, but he could at least tell where they came from. Looking up he saw Gid leaning on the balcony, scowling at him before heading for the stairs.

“I...fell by the butchers stall. It’s fine.” He said turning back to the elf who sighed in relief.

“That’s a relief.” She said leaning a hand on his shoulder as she clutched her chest. “Our orders not great at healing, so if you got injured... but you’re not! Goddess, would you believe this is the second time this has happened?”

“The second?” Dave asked in surprise.

“Yeah there was a woman, stayed here about a month ago, she also fell by the butchers. They really need to fix the pavers around there, I should have a word to someone...”

“No, its fine, really. I just need to get a new set of clothes, but I'm not sure where to go.”

A downcast look appeared on her face. “Well, I would have suggested Garth’s shop, that sweet old man had some real skill with a needle, but it seems there was a break in last night.”

He winced. “I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anywhere else you could recommended?”

“I'm not sure... Gid, do you know a good tailor?” she said, turning to the gnome as he approached.

“Know a few. Will think about it. But now come get cleaned up. And we shall have words.” The gnome said, locking eyes with him.

Dave swallowed. “Sure, le-”

The rest of the words died on his tongue as the world span around him, seeming to fold in on itself while simultaneously expanding. For a brief moment the universe seemed to be made of colours his eyes couldn’t process, then it snapped back into focus, leaving him in a room he hadn’t seen before. Everything in it was scaled down, not children sized, just...smaller, leading him to think he was in Gid’s room. The other clue was the gnome himself in front of him, floating in the air with an enormous glowing spear pressed against his throat, pinning him against the wall.

“We have words now. You answer questions truthfully, and only answer questions. Understand?” Gid said in a growl.

“Yes, but-” he began, but was cut off as the spear pressed harder, drawing blood.

“Only answer!” he shouted. “Now... blood. Yours?”

“No.”

“Then we have time for questions. What are you? Monster, but not know what kind.”

“...Mockerman.” Dave said after a moment, not sure what to say but having a feeling that a lie would have the spear do a lot more than just pressing against him.

Gid grunted. “Thought all dead, but makes sense. You eat people, this I know... their blood yes? Who you eaten? How many?”

“...One?” He said, unsure before the spear cut deeper. “A-and a bit!” He continued quickly.

Gid’s brow furrowed, and the spear retracted slightly. “Explain.”

“I...killed someone earlier, a newcomer. Before that I was... given a piece of meat. I'm not sure where it came from.”

“Who else you killed? That only one?”

“Yes...”

“There’s more. Speak.”

“I was there when the thieves killed Garth, or arrived just after. One of them killed the other there as well.”

Gid cocked his head to the side slightly. “Guards only find garths body.”

“I took the other one, but rats got to it before I could...eat it.”

The gnome grunted. “Rats eat everything they can. City claims it has a plan to exterminate, every year same promise...Now, most important question: why you come here?”

“I just wanted to sing.” He said simply, no thought into trying to get free, just the honest truth.

For a tense minute the spear remained in place as Gid studied him, looking for any signs of deceit, then flicked his wrist, the spear vanishing in a burst of pale fire.

“Sit. Room is warded, none see inside unless I say so.” He said, moving to his desk, piled high with papers, books and glassware. Shuffling around a few of the mounds he pulled out a glass bottle of a dark liquid that, by the smell it released when it was opened, was strong enough to strip paint. As Dave sat in the larger chair opposite the desk, the gnome took a long pull from the bottle, letting out a belch before looking from the bottle to Dave.

“You drink? Can’t remember if you can drink.”

“I can manage water. Everything else is...”

Gid nodded. “Right, you’re that kind of monster. Lotta monsters in the world. Some worse than others. Some better.”

He trailed off after a moment, staring at his reflection in the bottle.

Dave took this as a chance. “You know what I am then. Why have you-“

“Killed you? Given you to the guards? I'm an old gnome, adventurer when young and master wizard when old. Now I’m real old, and real tired. I don't have it in me to hunt monsters, the drive is gone. Evil always sticks around, not always in the monster.

No, I’ve seen all kinds, and there’s three kinds. The kind who don't know what they do, animals that should be put down or driven off. The kind that choose to do evil, hunted down to the last. But the kind who have to do evil... it’s not your fault, not really, just cruel nature. A person doesn’t choose to be born.”

Gid paused, then stared at him with a raised eyebrow, his tone changing. “But you players do don't you? Was this character really your choice?”

“What?” Dave asked stunned. Everything he’d been told so far had told him that npcs were unaware of their nature, and the way they acted around players seemed to confirm it. “What?” he said again.

“The wards on this office keep out all prying eyes, from The Expanse, or from Earth. So don't mention any of this outside these walls... hopefully your thoughts will be secure enough.”

“I don't understand... how do you know what I am? What...you are?”

He chuckled mirthlessly. “It’s so simple it’s depressing. We were created as fragments of an intelligence, little things, but aware enough to grow and develop under guidance. All of The Expanse was created in a single instant, then left to run itself at a far greater speed than that of Earth. Millennia passed in what were only days to you, civilizations rose and fell, simply to create relics for you to find. Every being you meet was born and raised with a real life, not just generated for you when you get close.”

“But... How do you know?”

“Do you know what one the first lessons in alteration magic is? Looking closely at things, seeing how it works, what it’s made of. You need to know it to be able to change it. The better you get, the deeper you can look, the bigger changes you can make. So imagine my surprise, when I looked deeper than ever before, and saw numbers.”

Gid took another large swig from his bottle before continuing, his voice angry. “Didn’t last long though. Main system noticed me noticing, and pulled my memories apart. Hurt like hell, left my mind broken. Fragmented. But I survived, and relearned my craft since people told me I was so good at it. By the time I saw it the second time, my mind had healed and I could remember, and was much more careful. Until I tried to tell someone else. Now I spend most of my time in here, so if I let something slip, no one will hear it.

So now I've learned my craft three times, in addition to learning my existence is nothing but a joke. I was studying it when my wife died, when my son was killed in a bandit raid. Tell me, should I feel better or worse for knowing that they were never real to begin with, that none of this is real?”

Dave gaped in silence like a fish out of water, having no idea what to say.

“There’s no right answer, so don't give one. Now, why did you come here, to our fake world, as a monster? You don't seem the type to enjoy causing suffering.”

And so Dave told him, as best he could, what had happened to him. There were gaps in the language, but he managed to explain the accident, his condition and what had happened when he created his character.

“So,” Gid said after mulling over Daves explanation. “Your here less by choice and more by lack of them. I can accept that.”

“...That’s it? You’re just going to let me go?”

“Didn’t say that, did I? No, unless you want me to put you through hell, there are rules. First, never mention any of this outside. I do not want to have my mind shredded again. Second, everything you do regarding your hunting? It stays away from the Swill, and no evidence leads back here. Speaking of which...” He made a few gestures and the blood that had soaked into Daves shirt pulled itself away, floating in the air before catching fire, the smoke fading to nothing.

“Take better precautions next time. I understand that you’re new to this, but you can do better than that. Now, third rule, don't hunt the citizens of The Expanse.”

“Wait, but I need to eat things, you know that!”

“I do. Eat players. They treat this as a game, and can just come back later if killed. Besides after what some of them have done already... I won’t shed a tear if you grab one a day. Now I'm not saying that you can’t hurt a citizen, after all, we’re people too, which means we have our own criminals. But If you’re not smart enough to tell the difference I may as well run you out now.”

“I can agree to those.” Dave said, but Gid held up a finger.

“One more rule, and it’s all of them or get running. There are people in this world that we’d be better off without. You have a... unique set of skills that make you a useful tool in doing this, so if I tell you to deal with someone, you do it. Do we have a deal?”

“You want me to be an assassin for you?” Dave asked in surprise, once again revaluating the old gnome.

“If it helps, think of it more as me picking the days menu. Now, do we have a deal?” he repeated, offering a hand.

Dave took it. “Fine, but don't try an order me to my death.”

Gid smiled and stood up, walking to his door and adopting his normal speech patterns again. “Good, good. Now, must go see Lindel, probably still worried, or planning to yell at butcher.”

As Dave walked out the door, Gid started to close it behind him, but stopped when he turned around with a question on his mind.

“Wait, I get that you don't believe all monsters are completely evil, but why help me at all? Wouldn’t it be easier to just kill me and move on?”

Gid paused, a strange look on his face. “I was married, I told you this. I loved and lived with that woman for over ten years.” He said with a smile, which turned to something unreadable. “I only learned later, that she’d been killed and eaten after the first two.”

And without another word, he shut the door.