I met my party at the Bitter Flagon. The milladen assault had burned the old pub to ashes, but it had only taken twenty four hours to rebuild better than ever. Thanks to the formidable combination of money and video game nonsense, the local construction guild had put the three story building up in record time. We now had room for all our guild needs. The first floor was the bar, kitchen, and meeting rooms. The second had offices and a library. The third and final floor contained more than enough rooms for each tester to have a private space. They were hardly luxury suites, but at least we would always have a place to lay our heads. And best of all, the guild owned it outright. I missed Ajax, both as a party member and as a friend, but the money he had left made this possible. Without his share of the warehouse bust money, the guild would have had to get a loan.

My companions were set up with food and drink at one of the tables by the bar. Gerald complained about the cost of repairing his armor, but overall seemed in pretty good spirits for someone that had been horribly maimed. His mood improved further when I handed over his share of the loot from the Old City. It probably wouldn't cover his losses, but every bit helped.

The penalty for dying seemed to be equipment degradation and a chance to lose items. We didn’t know enough to say exactly how it worked yet, and no one had been willing to die over and over to try to find out. The equipment degradation was annoying, but not too much of a hassle. Repairs could get expensive, especially with more pricey equipment, but only cost money and a bit of time. Some games required special resources to fix gear. Worse still, some games give xp penalties or even lost levels for dying. Deaths in Victoria Online might be psychologically brutal, but at least they didn’t permanently cripple you.

I dug into the food, a wonderful stew and thick slabs of bread, while my companions filled Gerald in on what had happened after he had died. I let their voices wash over me as I eyed my mug of ale warily. Ever since I had learned that drinking alcohol was linked to my real body getting inebriated, I had tried to stay away from the stuff. I didn’t have anything against alcohol or even getting drunk, but I had been a tester too long to not see the pitfalls of such a system. What if there was a bug and the mug of ale’s ABV was set to 5000% instead of 5%? There could be limiters to stop the pods from overdosing the testers, but considering the pod’s experimental nature, and Axeton’s general lack of concern for safety, I doubted it.

Watching my friends happily pour back the drinks, I wanted to stop them. To knock the mugs to the ground and explain how dangerous it was. But I didn’t. I held back. Just as I had every time I had thought about it since my meeting with Dr. Hide. If I did that I would have to explain how I knew. If I explained my meeting with Dr. Hide, the moderators would find out I hadn’t had my memories erased. The only things stopping my memories from getting erased were the fact that Axeton didn’t know I knew anything valuable, and Dr. Hide just didn’t care.

Even if I told every tester, wrote down notes in my journal, or asked an NPC to deliver a message to my future self, the moderators could get around any precaution. Memories could be erased, notes deleted, and NPCs reset. So I didn’t tell my friends about the danger. I didn’t tell the drunk passed out on the bar top that he was destroying his liver. I just held my tongue and drank the ale sparingly. Drinking water would raise too many questions, and nobody had died from alcohol poisoning yet. I would have to take my chances.

I refocused on the conversation when Sarah asked Eva a question about the Harlequin's main quest. “It’s a heist!” the normally grumpy girl said excitedly. “I need to break into some lord’s manor and steal a magic item from his vault.” Her smile turned into a scowl. “I was supposed to recruit the other members of the carnival. A safe cracker, a bag man, a master of disguise, you know, classic heist stuff. But since I put that pig of a ring leader on his ass, none of the other circus folk will talk to me.”

“I’m sure we can get other players to fill in,” Sarah suggested. “Our guild has enough diversity that I’m sure we could put a team together.”

“We should ask Jim,” I said, nodding. As our guild leader, the Diplomat had the best understanding of everyone's abilities. “Do you know all the jobs you need to fill?”

“For the most part,” Eva answered. “I've cased the manor and have a basic plan. We need to disable the wards, scale the outer wall and lower a rope down for everyone else. Pick the locks to a side door or window. Once inside we need some way to find the vault, lure away any guards, and open the combination lock. Then we just need someone strong enough to haul out the loot.”

“I’m pretty strong,” Gerald said, flexing his arms.

“And I can climb the wall and pick the locks.” Eva said, rolling her eyes at Gerald’s shenanigans. “But that still leaves quite a few jobs.”

“I might be able to suppress the wards, if I get Dispelling Push on my next level,” I said. I would definitely want to test it before the heist, but it might be worth a shot.

“We’ll do some research and get Jim’s opinion,” Sarah reassured. “For now, let's talk about tomorrow. We still have Gerald’s outpost to secure, and I want to follow up on that residual magic we found. Everybody fine with another trip to the Old City tomorrow?”

We all looked at Gerald. He was the one who died today. If anyone needed a break, it was him. The big man stared back, nonplussed. “Loot, levels, and quest progression, why wouldn’t it be fine? I’d say let’s go now if you guys didn’t refuse to go over there at night.”

Sarah and I shared a look. The last time she had been to the Old City at night, only I made it back alive, and only barely. “Yeah, no,” I responded. “Maybe when we're leveled and geared to the nines nighttime exploration will be on the table, but for now let’s stick to the daytime.”

“Tomorrow it is,” Gerald agreed affably. “Meet at the bridge at ten?”

“Let’s start from Westminster bridge this time,” Eva interjected. “We should know the route from either bridge and besides, it’s closer to here.” She gestured to the pub as a whole.

But further from St. Paul’s Cathedral, I thought but didn’t say. It wasn’t a long walk, and it would be good to know the route from each of the bridges to the outpost. “I want to pick up a helmet, but ten shouldn’t be a problem. Speaking of buying things, has anyone seen Scott? We should really get some of that bleed powder before we go,” I said.

“He usually comes in late,” Eva said. “I’ll bother him when he gets here.” With Eva staying at the Flagon, she could keep an eye out for the Plague Doctor. We finished our meals, then split up. Gerald stayed with Eva, nursing another ale, while I walked Sarah to her apartment.

The night air was cool and refreshing, streetlights punching through the light fog. As we chatted idly, I found myself relaxing. I made sure to keep an eye out for enemies, but for the most part, enjoyed the leisurely stroll. I unclenched my hands and let my shoulders relax. Even in the bath earlier, as physically relaxing as it was, my mind had kept churning over the day's events. The fight with the abomination, our group dynamic, our quests, what the anti-questing testers had said, and our situation as a whole.

I wasn't used to this much stress. Video game development could be pretty intense during crunch time, but not like this. The constant pain and adrenaline kept me wound tight. So it was nice to savor peaceful moments like this one.

All too soon, we reached Sarah’s apartment. We cut off our discussion of long running British Sci-Fi shows, hugged, and bid each other a good night. Once her door was locked behind her, I set off towards St. Paul’s. Stalking down the foggy street, I mentaly went over all the things I needed to get done in preparation for the trip to the Old City in the morning.