Two guards stood on either side of the wide open gate, both human NPC’s wearing long chainmail tunics and coifs, covered by red and gold cloth adornments. One of them had a quest flag above his head, [F].

“Good afternoon, travelers, and welcome to Cobbletown,” one said as they approached.

Edge held his arms out, as a motion to stop.

“What’s wrong?” asked Sakura, the hints of a [Firebomb] spell on her lips.

“Everyone take a step backward.” They complied, tensing on the verge of attack, ready to challenge any immediate danger.

“Okay,” Edge took a step back as well, and then another step forward.

“Good afternoon, travelers, and welcome to Cobbletown,” the Guard repeated when Edge re-entered the proximity.

“It’s good to know some things never change.”

Daphne reached up and slapped him on the back of the head. “Bakka.”

Sakura just breathed a heavy sigh of relief, followed by shooting him a scowl.

“Totally worth it,” he said, with a diabolical grin.

“That’ll be three emeralds each,” announced the guard.

“What for?!” whined Daphne.

“Three emeralds is the toll for entering Cobbletown’s South Gate,” the guard replied, with all the motivation of an automated response.

A window with three options popped up for everyone in the party: [Pay the toll: 3 emeralds] [Don’t Pay] and [Work Something Out].

Being three shrewd misers, they all selected the third option without even glancing at eachother.

“Well, strictly speaking, me and Gari here have a duty to guard against undesirables entering our fair town, but maybe we can overlook a passing stranger like yourself. If that passing stranger happened to stop by the Watering Hole, and ask the owner, Lady Mondae, to bestow some of her kindness on a pair of fine wanting defenders.” [Accept] [Decline]

“Might as well save a few pennies and get some experience,” suggested Edge.

“We might bolster our reputation in the area or with a faction as well,” added Sakura.

Daphne squirmed. “Is it just me, or does this quest sound . . . you know. . .”

“No, I don’t know,” teased Sakura. “Why don’t you tell us, oh worldly bard, what it sounds like?”

“Sakura, you’re just-” Daphne’s cheeks reddened. If it was Edge doing the teasing, then she most definitely would have punched him.

“Let’s just go. I’d like to find someplace to stay, maybe the Watering Hole is an inn,” said Edge. “I’d like to eat something that isn’t a plate of gecko eggs or carrots.”

There was no argument with that suggestion at least.

Cobbletown was not as big on the inside, not nearly the towering monstrous buildings you’d find in a modern city. The streets were bustling with activity, NPC’s dressed in plain colours talked quietly with one another, or marched on some unknown errand, probably along predetermined routes or simply in circles. The narrow brick roads were barely wide enough for a wagon to pass, yet the intimacy of the tight fitting buildings made the city look both immense and cozy. Most of the squarish buildings were over two stories high, covered in grey plaster and signs. Few of the towers came close to the height of the massive external walls, but those that did rose as beacons of mosaic glass. Like most dense cities, the sheer number of buildings and roads made the urbania a maze for newcomers.

If only the developers had given them a map function. They did have a sort of radar-like mini-map, but it nearly always read as blank, unless it was pointing out something so obvious that the function itself was irrelevant. This is the kind of thing that happens when you don’t launch a good beta. Eugene was the only one of the group to leave that particular display window open, and even he was considering giving up on it, despite the fact that he could attach it to the inside of his shield, so it really wasn’t taking up any unnecessary room.

“I never took you for a country bumpkin, Edge,” teased Daphne. “Next time we should let Sakura take the lead.”

They were lost, which was not his fault . . . he didn’t make all of the streets look the same. The developers! They were the ones to blame.

“We should ask for directions,” stated Sakura without malice.

Edge grunted.

“Men are stupid,” said Daphne, maliciously poking out her scratchy cat tongue.

He had been grunting in approval, damnit. This sort of thing never happened when he was a rogue. Eugene felt the familiar tug of constant invisibility. Oh, the good old days, when he didn’t have two girls following him around, commenting on every decision he made . . .

The entrance to the Watering Hole was a crooked sign hung over a narrow declining staircase between two otherwise nondescript buildings. The twilight of Cobbletown shadowed the hole, giving the group wary pause. “This is it,” said Sakura. She had a way of stating and ignoring the obvious at the same time. Just because they found the place was not a good enough reason to actually go inside.

“If you’re scared, I’ll hold your hand,” offered Daphne, without a hint of accusation.

He wasn’t scared. He was cautious. A veritable outbreak of perfectly reasonable cautiousness. But he was not scared. And he would prove it. He would go down there, and he would not be scared. Any second now, he would go straight down there . . .

Sakura nonchalantly moseyed down the steps. The second she opened the door, a torrent of loud rock music spewed from the crack, followed by the smells of tobacco, and a cloud of warm air.

This didn’t seem like a place for decent folk. Eugene had never been inside a bar before, as he was still under the legal drinking age. Was this a good idea? He stood at the top of the steps, thinking too much. It wasn’t like he really knew all that many decent people anyway. In fact, this hole in the ground suited his mood perfectly. It was broken, and alternative, with music so loud he wouldn’t need to talk to anyone. He made his way down the steps with newly kindled fortitude. But what he found inside, shocked him to the core.

Three quarters of the names hovering in the air about the room were blue, players names. A band, who played on a stage in the far corner, were all NPC’s, along with a pair of waitresses gliding too and fro, and a few bartenders behind a massive semi circular counter. But the patrons were one hundred percent players. Perhaps, three dozen players!

The music suddenly cut out, and those who were only a moment ago reveling paused to stare at the newcomers. The room was silent and still, except for the knocking of mugs being set down on tables, and the squeak of unsettling chair legs scraping on the floor.

“Your kind isn’t welcome here,” said [Taurus], an enormous minotaur dressed in blood red noob clothes, but standing three hands taller and two wider than anyone else in the room. Although the character creation system had made him monstrous, his face still held the components of a human being. It was odd, given the imminent threat the man bore, that Eugene would feel pity for the player who chose to be so . . . different. He knew exactly what it was like to embrace the role of the ‘constant stranger,’ to stand out as alone even amongst a crowd.

But Taurus was acting like a bully, and Eugene hated bullies. “Says who?” Edge challenged, with a cold tone that promised retribution. It was this attitude that had both made him a great assassin rogue, and also got him beaten up at school.

“Says us.” A dozen players stood up from their wooden chairs, none of them had weapons. They were dressed like complete newbies, without either weapons or armor, as far as Edge could tell. But it wouldn’t take much more than half a dozen abilities going off at once to do them serious damage, or maybe one of these people had an ability as powerful as [Firebomb]. Even if they had the assurance of a higher skill level and a gear advantage . . .

“Daphne?” called a female voice from the crowd.

“Betha-”

“Shh. Don’t say it! My name here is Belladonna Nightshade, [Ranger] extraordinaire.” It was another Kiten, except this woman couldn’t be confused with a tame house cat. She was a panther, with charcoal skin, dangerous yellow eyes, and wide hips that ended in a sleek black tail. She raced at Daphne, wrapping her up in a big hug that lifted the little Kiten right off the ground.

“Oh, you’re so cute!” Belladonna kissed Daphne on the lips, a long sensual kiss, with tongue.

Edge’s jaw went slack. Sakura went bug eyed. “Edge, this is my, err, friend that I was talking about,” said a blushing Daphne.

“You know these people, Bell?” asked a half stunned Taurus.

“Yeah, Bull, they’re okay,” Belladonna vouched.

“They’re your responsibility then. I had nothing to do with it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

The music started up again and everyone seemed to go back to their business.

“I’m Sakura, Daphne’s companion.”

“I’m Edge. Nice to meet you.”

“Don’t be getting too friendly. I only said you guys were okay, because Daphne was with you. Don’t screw this up for me.”

“Screw what up?” inquired Sakura.

“You really don’t know, do you.” Belladonna stated.

“Betha- Bell, what’s going on?” asked Daphne.

Belladonna whispered into Daphne’s ear, and she nodded along. The music was too loud for Edge to eavesdrop. He should have trained the [Listen] skill!

Belladonna led the group into a back room that wasn’t much more than a private open space with a single table and chairs. The music was muffled somewhat, and the smoke seemed to dissipate entirely upon crossing the threshold.

“What’s the problem Bethany? These are my friends.”

“It’s Belladonna here, love. Not all of us use our own names for our character names.”

“I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to, it only said [Name] on the screen.”

“Sheesh, Daphne. You never change,” Belladonna placed her hand on her forehead in a mock wince. “That’s why I love you.”

Daphne turned the deepest tone of scarlet she’d been so far. “We are just friends, Bell.”

“Good friends,” replied Belladonna, giving Sakura a strange stare.

“So what’s this all about anyway. Why would the minotaur and his pals have a problem with us? Have there been any murders?” Edge demanded.

“Murders? No, though I suppose that depends on your definition of murder. Obviously, you guys have figured out this is more than a game.”

“Yes, but we know little else,” said Sakura.

“I can tell. But you have upgraded equipment, so that means you must be Gambits.”

“Gambits?” Edge asked. Whatever it meant, Belladonna said it with scorn in her voice.

“Players that believe winning the game is the only way to leave Levia,” she explained. “We call them Gambits because they gamble away people's lives to become stronger.”

“So . . . when you die, you don’t respawn . . .” Edge said the words, somehow knowing for certain made a difference. “But are you dead for sure? You might just log off or something.”

“Nobody knows, but there aren’t all that many willing to put it to the test. All we know is that when your life points reach zero, you’re a tombstone.”

“So we need to beat the game to go home?” Daphne asked, a little downtrodden.

“No,” said Belladonna. “The game developers are going to fix the problem, and then we’ll be able to log out.”

“How do you know?” asked Edge.

“Well, this is isn’t some minor issue. In the real world, there must be hundreds of computer techs trying to figure this out. As long as we survive, it’s only a matter of time before we’re rescued,” she said, as if she’d rehearsed the script.

Belladonna could be right, the Gambits could be right, but one thing was clear to Eugene: both groups believed in a way out of Levia. They were polar opposites fighting for the same optimistic dream, in their own separate ways. So why were they at odds? And where did Edge, Sakura, and Daphne fit into this mixture? What should they do? Become Gambits, or stay put and try to play it safe. Or split apart. Belladonna must have read something on Edge’s face.

“I can probably talk to [Gryphon], he’s kind of like the leader here, get you guys settled. There’s a food dispensary down the street that will give you a bowl of soup everyday. It’s not a quest or anything. It’s just to feed the poor, we think. It tastes like salt water, but it’s enough so you won’t go hungry.”

“Is there a repeatable quest to get a room?” he asked.

“No, but these meeting rooms are free, so we just sleep here. It’s getting more crowded, but there’s enough room for everyone who’s made it to the Watering Hole.”

Sakura grimaced. “I wonder how many people didn’t make it?”

“Well . . . each starting point began with five players . . .”

“Five? We only had three!” said Daphne.

“It started as the two of us, and became three, but it’s possible there were more,” reasoned Edge. “They could have finished their characters faster than us, and left before we even arrived.”

“Or they could have been killed,” said Sakura. “I went searching for some low level mobs as soon as I got into the game. That’s how I got lost. I might have died out there, if I hadn’t found the road again . . .”

Or worse, she might have died to the first mob she found. No one wanted to say it, but Levia Online was truly unfair; its difficulty was set to maximum hell. Eugene didn’t want to think about how many players were lost, before ever reaching their own equivalent of Baldor’s Loft.

“Without Edge, I’d be gone too,” said Daphne. “We are stronger together.”

Daphne had a way of making complex issues into simple truths. He wished he could do that. Edge felt like he needed to say something. “I don’t know if the Gambits are right, or if you’re right. I saw the players in the next room, the look in their eyes . . .” What was it? “They are afraid, waiting for a rescue that might never come. I don’t think we should risk people's lives trying to beat the game. But I don’t think staying here is the answer, either. I think . . . I think we should keep looking. Maybe, there is an answer out there somewhere. Just because we don’t know how to get out of Levia, doesn’t mean that there isn’t a way.” It was true, but it was also a lie. A lie they needed to hear, and a lie that he desperately wanted to believe.

“I’ll go with you, Edge,” said Daphne. “I want to go home, and I don’t like the music here.”

Really, the music?

“You’ll need someone who can translate magic texts, and a lap to lay your head on at night,” pitched Sakura.

Really, her lap?

“Daphne, you can’t be serious. You need to stay with me. You can’t go with these people,” pleaded Belladonna, a touch angrily.

“Bell, you don’t understand. Edge is my hero.”

Really, he was a hero?

“A hero huh?” Belladonna weighed him up and down, eyes afire with sudden contempt and a deeper loathing that made him feel small. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to be looked at like that. Almost. “I can’t convince you otherwise?”

Daphne shook her head, pinching her eyes closed and scrunching her face.

“Then I’m coming with you,” announced Bell with a bright smile, like it was the easiest decision in the world.

Daphne burst into smiles of her own, leaping and latching onto Belladonna in joyous celebration, followed by an hour long bout of non-stop rendition, telling the story of their previous adventures. In which, Daphne made Edge sound like some kind of super hero, though he mostly just threw rocks that didn’t do any damage, or probably very little, and punched the occasional gecko in the nose . . . sometimes even before they bit him!