They entered the elven village twenty minutes later. Dean didn’t realize it at first since the houses were built out of actual trees, not logs like human villages, but as though the trees had naturally grown with front doors and windows. The villagers stopped to stare at him, clutching their children as he passed. More than few hid in their houses, slamming the door in the process, and peeking out at him from behind their curtains. Most began following him, at a distance, as they continued through the village.

The city center was a massive tree, at least fifty paces across at its base, where the village elders stood before a set of double doors set into its trunk. With all the commotion his arrival caused, he wasn’t surprised they were already gathered and waiting for him. The elders were, well exactly what Dean expected. There seven of them in all, with gray hair and wrinkled faces.

“What’s the meaning of this, Famor?” The oldest and grumpiest looking of the bunch demanded angrily, “You know humans aren’t allowed here. Why have you brought him?

Famor ignored the man. Instead, he focused on a woman standing behind the elders. She was half their age, with long blonde hair pinned in a bun. Dean glanced between her, Famor and Aleria, realizing this woman was their mother. Famor addressed her, confirming Dean’s suspicion, “Forgive me, Mother. I take full responsibility for bringing him here.”

She raised an inquiring eyebrow at him, “Very well. Now, tell me, Famor. Why is he here?”

Neva blurted out, “He claims to have seen a wraith. It’s impossible though, they’re myths. And it would’ve killed him anyway.” Neva snapped his mouth shut as the Famor’s mother glanced at him. He hunched over, trying to hide, “Well, he does.”

Famor glanced at Neva, licking his lips. Obviously, Dean’s death hadn’t occurred to him.

“Is this true?” She looked at Dean, her eyes locking him in place.

Before he could reply, Famor hastily said, “It is, Mother. He claims it leads an orc army.”

“Indeed,” She said, “And can he not speak for himself?” Famor’s cheeks reddened. He glared at Dean, as though it was his fault. His mother addressed Dean. “I am Eowyn. Do you have a name?”

“Dean.” He replied.

“And you know that I am a Truth Minder?” She asked. Dean nodded. “Then know this, lie to me and you will not leave here alive. Tell the truth, and you may yet live. Now, speak true, Dean. Tell me everything of this wraith and the army it leads.”

Dean took a deep breath, steadied himself, and started talking. He told her about abandoned bandit camp, the orcs they encountered as they investigated, and the attack on the village. She asked several questions as he went, mostly about when or where something happened, or for him to elaborate on something. He talked until his mouth was dry. Eowyn gestured for Famor to hand Dean a canteen, which Famor did reluctantly and with a grimace. He ended with his encounter with the wraith, snapping his mouth shut just before mentioning his own death.

“How’d you escape, human?” Neva demanded, “Did you run like the coward you are?”

“He didn’t.” Eowyn answered.

“That’s impossible, he’d-“, Neva began.

Eowyn held up a hand. “He died and respawned.”

Dean spit out the sip of water he was taking, spluttering as he stared at her in shock. When his coughing subsided, he said, “You know about players?”

“I became aware of them recently,” She smirked, “there is much you do not know about this world.”

Dean tried to comprehend how she could know about him, and the implications it could mean. Were all NPC’s aware? If so, did they know about the outside world? That they weren’t real? He glanced at the other elves surrounding him, but all of them looked confused.

Famor said, “I don’t understand, mother. What is this ‘players’ he speaks of?”

She was the only one aware of players. Why? What made her special? Was it the Truth Minder ability, or something else? Or was she a player, just messing around with him? He didn’t think so. For one, she was an elf and he hadn’t been given the choice of a race when he joined, so it stood to reason that no player had been given the option. And another, it appeared that she’d been in the village for a while, long enough to have children, and the game hadn’t been out that long. His friends had logged in when it launched, so unless pregnancy was shorter here, a lot shorter than real life, then it was impossible.

“It’s not important,” She waved the question away, “And would take too long to explain. Instead, know that Dean is not like other humans we have encountered before. He is different, apart from this world. Now, Dean, where did you find the settlement crystal, and tell me of how you came to trespass in our forest.”

It took him a few seconds to refocus his mind on the story, to stop it from reeling from her revelation, before he could continue. He told her about the journey to the catacombs, where she asked for him to describe the murals in great detail, and the spider queen. He told her about his journey south, the goblin attack, and how he ended up chased into forest on accident. By the time he was finished, he felt like he’d been wrung through from her questions, and his voice cracked. He was surprised to find the canteen empty when he tried to take a sip.

“So?” The grumpy elder asked, “Is he telling the truth?”

Eowyn continued to stare at Dean for a few more seconds, until he felt uncomfortable and was about to speak. Before he could, she glanced at the elder and said, “He speaks true.”

The village broke out in gasps, intense whispers and a few shouts of disbelief. Famor didn’t change his demeanor as far as Dean could tell, but he seemed to relax slightly as he nodded once at Dean. Neva, for his part, was muttering to himself. Dean wasn’t a lip reader by any means, but he could make out ‘impossible’ and ‘myth’. Aleria was the only one that didn’t react in shock, she just studied him intently, her head slightly cocked to one side just like Eowyn had when she listened to his story, frowning slightly. When she noticed him staring, she scowled at him.

“There is the matter of your presence here,” Eowyn said quietly, only loud enough for him to hear. “No human has laid eyes on this village in five hundred years.”

“What’re you going to do?” Dean asked.

“It depends on your intentions.” She answered, “Will you give me your word that you will not tell anyone about our village?”

“Done.” He said immediately. A notification popped up at the bottom of his screen.

You have Sworn an Oath

You have sworn to keep the existence of Me’lian a secret. Breaking this vow will damage your relationship with the Eowyn.

She smiled, amused at his quick reply, “Then it is settled. I will permit you to leave.”

“Don’t you need to talk to the other elders?” Dean asked.

She smirked, “They will agree.”

Dean laughed. The village might have an Elder Council that told them what to do, but the Council had answered to Eowyn. She smiled at him, this time a genuine, warm smile, and not just one from a village elder trying to be polite.

“Though,” She mused aloud, “With a wraith loose, we will not survive if it turns it’s attention towards us.” She tapped a finger against her lips as she thought, “I wonder.”

“What?” Dean asked.

She blinked at him. Apparently, she hadn’t known she was speaking aloud. She laughed softly as she shook her head. “Would you be willing to help us?”

“With what?”

“A quest.”

Dean hesitated. Not that he didn’t want to help but doing so would put him at risk of dying. “I’d like to, but I can’t risk dying and respawning back at Torial.”

She nodded her understanding, “What if you were allowed to set it here?”

“You can’t be serious, mother?” Famor demanded. He’d moved closer as Dean and Eowyn had talked without Dean realizing it.

“I am.” She said placidly.

“Have you forgotten everything about humans? That they’re greedy, petty, and evil? Have you forgotten the True Mother?” Famor said bitterly.

“I have not. And you should remember who you are speaking to.” She replied.

Famor bowed slightly, “My apologies. I still do not understand.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, my son.” She answered.

Dean recognized the quote but couldn’t place it. A thought struck him, “Are you trolling me?”

She arched an eyebrow at him, “Are you saying I look like a troll?”

Dean heard someone behind him snort. He glanced over his shoulder to find Aleria looking at him, an eyebrow quirked and entirely too innocent looking. He turned back to her mother, “I meant, are you a player?”

“No, I am not.” Eowyn answered.

Dean wasn’t sure about it, but decided to drop it and said, “This is perfect. If you let all of us set our spawn points here…” He trailed off.

She was shaking her head, “It’ll be difficult enough to convince the rest of the council to allow you to set it here.”

“Oh,” He said dejectedly.

“But I will convince them to allow you to do so, if you agree to help with the quest.” She explained.

You’ve been Offered a Quest

Title: Unknown

Reward: Unknown

Description: In return for setting your spawn point to Me’lian, you agree to assist in an unspecified quest from Eowyn.

“I accept.” Dean said before realizing he should probably ask what the quest was first.