《Corruption》


 Feet first

    I awoke to find myself lying flat on a thick carpet, my cheek covered in drool. Tilting my head upwards, I found my view filled by the face of an old man, who was talking at me, though I couldn''t hear him. Closing my eyes for a moment, I grasped my nose and swallowed. The pressure in my ears vanished, and sound returned.


    "Anto urit tema afer?"


    "What?" I opened my eyes again, the man had kneeled by my side, and was looking down at me, repeating "anto urit tema afer?" as if expecting me to respond. He placed a hand on my shoulder and I threw myself sideways, then scrambled to my feet. As I turned to face him, fists clenched, I saw that we were not alone. Three other people stood around me, at the points of a compass. Looking down, I was surrounded by a ring of chain, about two metres across. Combined with the robes on the four people, it was beginning to feel a bit ''Rosemary''s baby''.


    I took a step to my left, aiming to sprint between the two shortest people, a mousy looking brunette and a hunched man, who managed to look even more ancient that the one I''d seen first, who now took a step towards me, holding his hands to his sides. "Anto urit nera itur?" I shook my head, but his words still made no sense.


    I raised a hand in front of me to fend him off. "Where am I?"


    "Anto?"


    "Do. You. Speak. English?"


    "Deso. Iton itur unta naga. Anto urit sepa lana Vescaloan?"


    He took another step forward, and I moved backwards to stay out of his grasp. My heel caught on the chain and I started to stumble backwards. My flailing arms were caught by the man I''d been planning to avoid, a hulking slab of muscle, and panic set in. "Get off me! Get off, get off, get off!" Twisting away from him, I managed to free one arm, and drove a fist towards his face. He flinched backwards, pushing me away from him, and I fell over the chain, crashing to the increasingly familiar carpet.


    As I hit, my vision flashed white, and suddenly there was a piece of parchment on the floor just beside my head. Printed in the centre of it were blocky blue letters, that read ''PTO''. The sudden presence of English in this strange world threw my train of thought far enough off the tracks that I stopped trying to get up, and instead reached out and swiped the parchment. My hand brushed it, and it flipped up into the air, halting at about head height and began to glow. Looking behind me, I saw the robed figures were all cautiously moving away from the shimmering paper, and I stood to put it between me and them.


    Another flash of light attracted my attention to the parchment, and I watched as text began to appear on it, writing itself as if with an invisible hand. ''Welcome to the World of Vescaloan! We hope you enjoy your holiday of a lifetime in this interactive gameworld, but first, please read this safety announcement.'' I blinked a couple of times, not believing what I was reading, and the paragraph began to fade, as more text was written on top of it.


    ''The World of Vescaloan is a simulated medieval environment with fantasy elements, including monsters. Player-adventurers may be injured or killed, but will always respawn at designated save points. No liability is accepted for mental distress.''


    ''In case of emergency, players may immediately exit the game world by summoning the in-game menu and selecting the ''Exit'' option, which is a red button which has this appearance:''


    Here the text paused to display a beautifully illustrated outline of a button. The word ''Exit'' was slightly embossed, and highlighted with gold flecks.


    ''To summon the menu at any time, simply vocalise the word ''Menu'' and this scroll will appear before you.'' I immediately said "Menu", and another sentence appeared on the parchment. ''Please note, the ''Menu'' facility will become available after completion of the safety announcement.'' This sentence was written in bold, as if it were rebuking me.


    ''Finally, players should note that the language of Vescaloan is unlikely to be comprehensible to players. Completion of the character creation process will provide players with a working knowledge of the language to enable enjoyment of the environment. Please vocalise "Create character" to begin the game.'' With those final words, the parchment rolled itself up and winked out of existence, with a tiny ''pop''.


    Well, crap. I''d been portal fantasy''d into some dungeons and dragons ripoff. That explained the robe-clad weirdos and the funky church architecture. I''d have expected the welcoming committee to be a bit more welcoming though. The four figures still looked a little stunned by the appearance and disappearance of the parchment, and I used their distraction to study them more closely.


    With the exception of the woman, who looked to be about my age, they all looked hard-worn, with leathery features and grey or greying hair. The man who had initially knelt by me on the floor was wearing some form of skullcap, but otherwise was dressed very plainly. The even older man had an elaborate chain slung around his neck, gold squares hanging from it, festooned with various jewels. The final man loomed above them, and looked to be corded with thick muscle, all the way down to his enormous hands. They had begun to recover from the sight of the scroll, and turned to face me directly, once again.


    "Anto stuf desc?" the man with the chain asked skullcap.


    "Iton itur unta naga," replied skullcap, beginning to look uncertain, "iton mags desc posc naga."


    "Anto urur savo?" chain asked, sounding increasingly worried.


    Big guy stepped towards me again, reaching his hand out. "Iton urur savo afer. Ante, sare init." He held his hand out in front of mine, palm raised, but came no further. His body quivered slightly, full of tension, as I slowly reached out my own hand to rest of top of his. He gently curved his fingers around my hand and shook it once, before releasing it and stepping back. The others all followed suit, with chain grasping my hand between both of his and shaking rather more vigorously. I was beginning to suspect he might be the elected official here.


    They all muttered at me as they shook my hand, but it still made no sense to me. Obviously I would need to go through whatever the mentioned character creation scheme was, to have any chance of talking to them. At this point, it occurred to me that I was taking this surprisingly well. I mean, just to recap, I''d awoken on the floor in a church, and almost immediately been presented with something that implied I was in an incredibly advanced holodeck-style simulation. Maybe I was still drunk.


    Just as I was about to try creating a character, it occurred to me that I could, and perhaps should, skip out. The scroll did offer me an emergency exit, and even if the holodeck was mostly safe, I didn''t remember signing up for it. How had I ended up here? My last memory was of sitting in Waterstones, reading Scooby Doo fanfiction while drinking a hot chocolate and sneaking the occasional shot of vodka into it. Someone must have drugged me and brought me here. Wherever here really was.


    Mind made up, I said "Menu", and jumped a bit more than I would like to admit when the parchment reappeared before me, floating in mid-air. It showed four boxes, labelled ''CREATE CHARACTER'', ''CHARACTER STATUS'', ''RESET CHARACTER'' and ''EXIT''. The middle two boxes were grey and faded, but the top was a bright green and the bottom a bright red. I was tempted by the friendly green, but in the end sense won out and I stubbed my finger down on the ''Exit'' button.


    Immediately the scroll wiped clean, and another message came up, this in a bold type. ''Please note, due to high levels of corruption in the game architecture, the game must maintain a minimum playgroup number of one. Please reduce corruption level to enable the EXIT function.''You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Well, double crap. I was stuck. I turned to face chain, who was trying to not look like he was peering over my shoulder at the scroll. "What''s the corruption?" He squinted. I talked louder and slower. "Corruption?" Nothing. It looked like there was no getting around playing the stupid game enough to be able to talk to people. I pointed at myself, then the scroll, and waved vaguely at them until they backed off. I plucked the scroll out of the air and wandered over to sit on a pew. They looked like they were considering following me, but then decided against it and sat down together on the opposite side of the church, muttering.


    Flapping it out in front of me, I discovered I could get the parchment to float in the air. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the ''create character'' button, and once again the parchment wiped before being filled with new text. ''The character system of Vescaloan is based around four key statistics;


    Vitality, V


    Strength, S


    Magic, M


    Dexterity, D


    Each character class is defined by a high value in two of these statistics, as the below (click each class for more information):


    S+M = Warmage


    S+V = Knight


    S+D = Rogue


    M+V = Healer


    M+D = Druid


    D+V = Monk


    Once you have chosen your class, please double click to select it.''


    I clicked on each of the classes in turn. They aligned pretty well with standard RPG classes, with the only really unusual one being the warmage. It seemed to be a purely offensive class, allowing one to create a trail of destruction with both spells and weapons, but was a bit of a glass cannon. I was sorely tempted, having always been fond of chucking fireballs and slicing people open, but if I was the only player around, I probably wouldn''t find a handy tank to soak up damage for me.


    That sparked a worrying thought. If I was the only player here, the other occupants of the church must be NPCs. Were they actually self-aware, or just robots going through the motions? Flicking my gaze over to the group, I studied them for telltale signs of secretly being a robot. None of them were going on a murderous rampage, but they did seem very polite. Probably half and half chance they were robots.


    Pulling my attention back to the parchment, I made my selection. The druid was a bit boring, but had some offensive spells, a bit of martial ability and most importantly, a certain amount of healing. Plus, I''d get a cool animal companion. It was the closest the ''game'' seemed to have to an all rounder, and that was what I would likely need to be.


    ''Congratulations! You are now a level one druid. Your Magic and Dexterity statistics have been set to 12 and your Strength and Vitality statistics have been set to 9. Please select two spells to learn, and then select your animal companion.'' The parchment grew three inches as a list of options appeared, and I starting poring over them.


    I didn''t have to think twice before picking up ''Slight Healing'', but was a little torn between ''Befriend Animal'' and ''Ensnare''. Befriending sounded like a good way to pick up some more allies, always helpful in solo mode, but the Ensnare, which caught an enemy with roots or vines looked like pretty good crowd control. In the end, it grabbed me.


    Looking down at companions, the choice was fairly limited. It was either classic wolf, the slightly unusual python or a falcon. The snake got dismissed out of hand. Rubbish speed and would need carrying around occasionally. A wolf was tempting, but in the end I plumped for the falcon. It would make for a decent distraction if it flew at someone''s face at 200 miles per hour, and the ''Sightshare'' skill would make it a useful and hopefully hard to detect scout. A quick press of the ''Confirm'' box and the parchment re-rolled itself, before winking out of existence. A brief fanfare sounded, seemingly without a source and a deep voice boomed "Welcome to Vescaloan! Enjoy the game!"


    I turned to look once again at the crowd of natives, who had stopped talking as the fanfare played and refocused their attention on me. I decided it was time to test my language skills. "Hello? Can you understand me?" My voice was nervous and quiet, but underneath it I could hear a second voice, also my own, softly saying "Atonte? Anto urit nera itur?"


    It looked like the universal translator was up and running, because suddenly skullcap beamed. "Hello! Yes, I can understand you. Are you alright?"


    "I''m fine. Well, sort of fine. Well, not very fine. Where the hell am I?"


    "Don''t you know? You''re the hero, you have to know where you are. You came when we summoned you. Have you not been to Vescaloan before? Do you get summoned a lot?" He looked increasingly worried with each question, wringing his hands before mopping his brow. I almost laughed at the cliche before I noticed he kept doing it. A perfect cycle of three hand rubs and one dab. He was stuck in an emote cycle. Seemed like they were NPCs after all. Watching his hands closely, I said "I think I might be the hero. Could you show me how you summoned me?"


    He beamed again and walked towards the altar. Bending down he slid open a panel that was lighter than the rest of the wood and brought out a small box. Opening it revealed a scroll, which he passed to me. Unrolling it, I read "If the Corruption is stalking the land, hold up this scroll in the palm of your hand. Read aloud the words upon it, and see the hero spring from it." Beneath that, in bright red text, were printed the words ''Activate debugging function''. If I squinted slightly, I could make out a faint impression of the true text, a blocky script which made absolutely no sense to me.


    Obviously the ''spell'' was meant to summon someone who could fix the problem, which seemed a bit like the world needed defragmenting, but it had apparently grabbed me instead. If there were no other players here, I''d have to fix the problem myself in order to leave.


    No other players. No other players. Hmm. "Can you perform the ritual again? It might be useful for me to have another hero here in case it''s too difficult for just me."


    "We can try" said the man with the skullcap, "but is that likely? Surely you''re a strong hero." I considered waving off the idea, with a casual ''You''re right, I can do it all myself'' before quickly realising that letting pride rule me to that extent would be madness. I was stuck in some insane parallel world, and tech support was apparently built into it. Since I had no plans of turning off and then turning on any dimension I happened to be standing in, tech support was my first port of call.


    "Please, I think this is quite a challenging scenario, and you don''t want it to go more wrong. I think it''s better for all of us if we have more than one hero." Looking a little unhappy, skullcap waved the other three over and they stood back around the chain. Raising their voices, they recited the short command I''d previously read, and fog filled the chain circle. A red light began to pulse slowly within it, and it was matched by a bell striking. This continued for eight strikes until suddenly the fog vanished.


    Skullcap turned back to me, a sheepish look on his face "I''m sorry...oh I''m doubly sorry. I didn''t ask your name. Unless, is it Hero?"


    "No. I''m Felicity. Alright, if that didn''t work, let me have another look at that scroll."


    "Of course, Felicity. Also, I''m Yestin, this is my novice, Jenefer, the Mayor Peder and the blacksmith Kenver." He rattled the names off and I rewrote my mental list. He paused, then as I looked at him, handed me back the scroll. Flipping it over, I discovered the text on the reverse. ''In case of excessive Corruption, please activate the "reset" function from the throne room of the Castle of Doom. To facilitate access to high level area, please enter password below to release debug equipment.'' Below that was eight dashes, in the same bright red. I entered ''password''. There was a harsh beep and the dashes cleared. New text appeared below them. ''Password incorrect. Login attempts restricted for 000:00:10.''


    Well, that was helpful. Evidently something had gone more than a bit wrong, and whatever system was in place had grabbed me instead of whoever was actually meant to be here. And they weren''t answering the phone. You know how sometimes, you just know it''s going to be a crappy day?


    "Right, young lady, you''re obviously the only one coming, so would you like to get on and fix the problem?" The Mayor, having spent the last five minutes looking annoyed, had finally decided he''d had enough. "Those damn animals broke into our village proper last week, did a lot of damage and they need stopping. Now, we don''t know where they''re coming from, or why they''re that weird grey colour or even where that one bear went to after it got into the larder, but it''s high time someone did something about it. And I reckon that''s you, hero."


    Throughout this speech, his eyes had flicked down to his hands, held just in front of his stomach, palms angled slightly upwards. At that moment, I''d have given up my last rolo to get a quick look at his hands. "Alright", I said. "I''ll do the best I can to help you. Perhaps you should show me this larder?" As I finished speaking and began to step forward, I almost walked into another scroll that unfurled before me.


    ''Tutorial quest accepted: Investigate the spooky cellar!'' it proclaimed, in an unnecessarily cheery font. I turned to the Mayor. "This larder, it wouldn''t happen to be in a cellar, would it?"


    "Why yes, why do you ask?"


    "No reason. Please, lead the way." He stalked towards the church''s door, signalling the blacksmith to precede him with a point of the chin, before holding the door open for me. Turning back into the church, he gestured at Jenefer to follow us before looking at the priest.


    "You stay here and watch the church Yestin, just in case anyone else comes as well." Yestin looked unimpressed to be being left behind, but obeyed. The Mayor held out his arm to me. I pretended to not notice it and followed the swiftly moving Kenver. I continued pretending to not notice as he offered it to Jenefer, who accepted.


    As I exited the church, I had to pause briefly to examine my surroundings. The church was on the edge of a forest, at the end of a dirt track that headed down a hill. Below, I could see a collection of thatched buildings in a rough circle. People moved between them, going about their business, whatever that was.

 Playing dress-up

    Catching up with Kenver, I asked "So what''s attacking the village? Assume I don''t know anything about it and tell me from the start." He looked into my face briefly, as if wondering if I was making fun, before staring back ahead of us.


    "It all began about two months ago. Animals started attacking people for no reason, not stopping attacking even if they were so injured they could barely move. You had to kill them to get them to stop. First it was wolves, then bears, and now it looks like owls have started getting it. Luckily it''s fairly obvious to spot, because they''re coloured grey in patches. With wolves and bears the paws go first, and with owls, they get grey wings."


    "Vicious things though. That''s what happened to my ear." He pointed, and I followed his finger up to his ear, or rather, what was left of it. Most of the lobe had been ripped away, and what remained showed deep scratches. "Had to smash the thing with my hammer. Made me bleed into the furnace, so now I''ve got a blade no one wants because they think it''s cursed, but that I can''t melt down because it''s an Item." He gave the word a slight intonation, and I could feel its importance. I wasn''t surprised when his next words were "Well, you could have it. You''re a Hero, and a Hero needs a weapon. Let''s go to my smithy before we see the cellar."


    He pointed down a path, and we skirted around the edge of the village. People sneaked glances at us, but no one could summon up the courage to come and talk. The Mayor hurried up behind us, puffing slightly. Jenefer followed a little way behind him, matching pace. "Where are you going? I thought we were going to have a look in the cellar."


    "She needs a weapon, and I''ve got a sword going spare." Kenver didn''t stop walking, and I matched his stride, though it wasn''t easy, with his 6''4" height giving him a significant advantage over my tiny 5''4".


    "Don''t you have your own weapon?" asked the Mayor. "Or magic? The Heroes used to summon fire from the sky and send lightning from their fingers. Can you not do that?"


    I stopped and turned to face him. "Listen, I''m here to fix your problem, you don''t have to worry about it. You just go and be a Mayor and we''ll meet you at the cellar soon." I hoped a bit of peace and quiet would allow me to work out what I was now capable of. He looked about to argue, but I turned away and he didn''t give chase. Kenver and I walked in silence for the remaining two minutes until we reached the smithy and entered its wide door.


    It was a beautiful brick building, with black tiles rather than the typical thatch, and a wide chimney. The fire was dead, and there was a surprising chill in the mostly empty room. It was worst in the far corner, where a matte black sword leaned against the wall. "That''s it," said Kenver. "It''s yours if you want it."


    I picked up the sword and the parchment reappeared. "What is that?" Kenver asked, staring intently at the parchment. "I can see it''s got writing on it, but I can''t read it."


    "It''s information about what I need to do to fix your problem." The parchment looked like it contained information similar to most item descriptions in various games I''d played. At least this experience was familiar.


    ''Kenver''s Blooded Sword.


    This longsword has been infused with the blood of the smith who made it, giving it extra power. +5 to damage.


    This sword cannot be used by your class.''


    I looked at the parchment and then down to the sword in my hand. I adjusted my grip to something that felt comfortable and took a few experimental swings. As I was making what I considered to be a rather stylish cut through an imaginary opponent, I lost my grip and the sword vanished behind me. Turning, I was rather taken aback by the fearful look on Kenver''s face, as he stared at the sword point that punctured the wall two inches from his ear.


    "Sorry. I''m a druid, and it looks like I can''t use swords."


    He grunted and leaned away from the sword. "If what I know about druids is true, you can use swords, but only if they''re made of Edgewood. In the meantime, perhaps you''d be better off with this." He reached into a cupboard and pulled out a quarterstaff, approximately six feet long, with a dark ball of iron riveted to one end and a cruel looking spike on the other. He tossed it towards me and I caught it, twirled it in my best impression of a marching band leader and flourished it into a stabbing position, tip first towards Kenver.


    Then my brain caught up with my hands and I realised I was pointing a weapon at the poor man''s head for the second time in as many minutes. He looked more surprised than frightened, and I quickly pulled back the staff and planted it beside me. The parchment dutifully unrolled. ''Basic staff.'' Helpful. Still, it looked like I could use it without impaling an innocent bystander, which was a significant improvement. I could feel an awareness of the staff in the back of my head, directing me towards the movements that would allow the most effective attacks.


    "Alright, I''m armed. Let''s go and have a look at this cellar."


    "Are you sure you want to face battle like that? Should you not wear some armour?" His gaze flicked downwards, and mine followed. Apparently jeans and a thin cotton T-shirt bearing the uplifting slogan "Books are like people, except interesting" didn''t count as defensive wear. Except possibly against the slower of my book nerd brethren who didn''t quite understand how a girl reading alone wouldn''t be overwhelmingly interested in their advances.


    "You might have a point. Have you got anything I could use? Please?" He headed over to a large wooden chest and began to pull items out of it. Clanking and tinkling sounds cascaded from the bulky parcels until he paused and held up an especially noisy example.


    "Here, try this haubergeon. I think my standard hauberks may be too big for you, but hopefully this will fit. I''ve got the gambeson I made for the cooper''s son here somewhere, which should go under it." I nodded along, hoping that when he got the armour out, all of those words would make sense.


    "You might need a little help though. Jenefer!" he called, "come and assist Felicity with this armour."


    Jenefer appeared through the door, where apparently she''d been hiding for the last five minutes. Moving quickly, she took a thick fleece jacket that Kenver was holding out towards her and came to stand behind me. She held it wide and I slipped my arms backwards, then settled the warm jacket on my shoulders. It smelled vaguely of sheep, but was unexpectedly soft on my exposed skin. I turned back to Kenver, who gestured at the thick laces that trailed down its front. I began to tie them off, and was more than a little taken aback when Jenefer began to help at my waist, working her way up.


    We met in the middle, fingers brushing briefly, and she stepped back hurriedly, watching her shoes. Worried she might be struck down by some god or other for touching the hero? Interrupting my thoughts, Kenver held up the haubergeon. Oh, it''s chainmail. He should have just said. "This is heavy. Make sure you get it balanced properly and buckled up before you start moving around. You don''t want a swinging weight." I wrestled the mass of clanking rings onto my body, and started buckling myself into it.


    I was only halfway done when I felt a strange twitching between my shoulder blades. I rolled my shoulders, and the twitching moved down my arms. I reached out and picked up my staff, and tried to perform a few of the basic jabs I''d become aware of when I picked it up. As I was attempting a more elaborate sweep, the twitching reached my wrist and I dropped the staff. "Can''t wear full armour either", observed Kenver.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    My choice of the druid was looking suckier all the time. A quick check of the ever-unhelpful parchment menu showed me that the ''RESET CHARACTER'' box was still grey and unresponsive, so it looked like I was stuck. "Alright, this is no good." I shucked off the layers of metal and sheep and stood once again in my relatively flimsy feeling T-shirt. "Now what?"


    "Well, I''ve got wood." I stared at Kenver. He stared back. I looked down. At his hands. Which were holding more armour.


    "Armour. You''ve got wooden armour."


    "Yes?" He looked confused, so I decided to just skip the whole thing and took the armour off him. It was smaller than the mail. A lot smaller.


    "Kenver, is this a wooden bra?"


    "Elfwood. I received it in a trade for a pair of matched daggers. It''s enchanted, so it will provide nearly the same level of protection as the mail coat. And here is the matching fauld and tasset set." He passed across a wide belt, which had interlocking wooden panels laced to it that looked like they hung to protect my thighs.


    "So it''s an armoured skirt. To go with the brarmour." Yay for magic universes created by teenage wizards. I looked around the smithy, and failed to find anything I could protect my modesty with. "Turn around, Kenver, you don''t need to see this."


    "Should I also turn my back milady?"


    "No, you''re fine Jenefer. I might need help with this." Feeling more than a little self-conscious, and keeping my eyes on Kenver''s back, I quickly stripped down to my jeans and wrapped the brarmour around me. Luckily it fastened in front and I did a few stretches checking it for fit. The wooden sections were riveted to a leather base, with pleasantly wide straps that kept it solidly in place. I spent a good half minute looking for adjustments, and realised that it both didn''t have them and that it didn''t need them. "Okay, other than my sudden fear of splinters, I think this is the best fitting bra I''ve ever worn. Thank god it''s my size."


    "It''s not," said Kenver, still facing the wall. "It''s magic, which means it automatically changes size to fit whoever wears it." Handy. I wondered if I could get it home with me. Grabbing the skirt, I bent over and slipped my legs through. Rising, I pulled it over my hips and straightened, immediately smacking my head on the unfurled parchment which had appeared above me. I dropped the skirt, which clattered to the floor.


    "Son of a... Right you, get here. Menu!" My shouted command shocked the parchment into obedience. Digging through the menu, I found the usual options, such as difficulty, tooltips and subtitles. Subtitles was pretty damned odd, making a few test words appear in the bottom of my view, no matter where I shifted my eyes. Still, nice of them to offer accessibility options. The colour blindness setting was even weirder, as everything suddenly had its colour written on it in friendly blocky text.


    Of course the difficulty option was greyed out, and nothing else actually useful to escaping this world was visible. Looked like the debugging system was strict. Thankfully, however, I was able to set all the notifications to audio only. An unnecessarily breathy female voice whispered "Changes applied" into my ear, and the thrice-damned parchment disappeared, hopefully for the last time.


    Returning my attention to my armour, I decided to stop standing around with my skirt around my ankles and got it looped into place on my belt. Outfit complete, I received my first announcement through the audio system. "Wooden armour. +1 to defence. You look good in it." Well that wasn''t at all creepy.


    Taking a few steps up and down the smithy, the armour moved on me smoothly, with no annoying clanking. I did a few more thrusts with the staff, with which I was apparently now competent, and I felt none of the difficulty I had with the mail. "Can I turn around yet?"


    "Oh yeah, sorry Kenver."


    He turned, and gave me a quick once over. "Will the armour suffice?"


    "Well, I can move in it, even if I look like Xena the Warrior Knockoff, but it''s hardly protective. I mean, look at this!" I gestured downwards to the run of stomach between my belt and the bottom of the bra. "It might allow a decent range of movement," I said, carefully not looking at my slight muffin top, "but it''s hardly going to stop a sword."


    "As I said earlier, it''s magic armour. It will defend even parts of the body it does not cover. Allow me to demonstrate." Kenver grunted as he pulled the black sword from the wall I''d previously tried to murder, and advanced on me. Following some lifelong instinct I''d possessed for the last hour, I circled round him, preparing the staff to defend against an attack. He sighed, and pulled back. "I''m not going to attack you. I just need to gently push the sword towards you. Please stand still."


    Gritting my teeth, I drew the staff back and planted my feet. Holding my breath, I spread my arms and let Kenver come towards me. He held the sword in his right hand, and supported it with his left. The sword tip came within an inch of my navel and then stopped. Kenver applied a little more force, and the sword slowly progressed, until it gently dimpled my skin. I very carefully avoided breathing out, feeling the tension in my stomach muscles, which weren''t really used to avoiding stabbings. I looked across at Kenver, and was amazed to see the strain on his face, as the sword resisted his efforts.


    With a grin, he leaned back, no longer threatening me, and everything sagged. "As you can see, the protection extends beyond the wood. With more force, I could break through, but you''ll want to avoid being put in that position during a fight. It will protect you well enough from glancing blows and weaker strikes. And it''s likely the best you''ll see for a while. You will eventually want to replace those," he indicated my jeans, "with a pair of leather trousers or wooden greaves if you can find them, but the armour''s magic will shield them from light blows."


    "Now, if I''m remembering right, heroes who came to our world would always go and talk to Jeffra before they set out to explore. He would give them some useful things, like a magic bag and a map of the world. Unfortunately, the wolves took him several weeks ago, so you''ll have to make do with what I can give you." Kenver reached into another trunk and pulled out a battered cloth bag. "That should hold anything you find."


    As I took the bag from him, the voice re-appeared in my ear. "Acquired bag. Good for stuff." Deciding to ignore the voice, I thanked Kenver, stuffed my t-shirt into the bag and slung it over my shoulder, appraising myself now I was fully loaded. I had a weapon, I had armour, I had a cold navel and I had a bag of holding-not-very-much. I was as ready as I could be to go fight a bear in a cellar.


    Which, when you came to think about it, was ridiculous. Why the hell was I here? How had this universe picked me to fix its problem? Okay, I''ve read a bit too much of the genre I''d found myself suddenly living in, but being a nerd should not qualify one for universe saving duty.


    And how did this world even exist? The ones I''d read were all built on either sufficiently advanced VR or handwaved with magic. Given I didn''t remember getting into a VR rig, it looked like I was in a handwave universe. Someone must have made it, but that required a third universe, with people who could actually use magic to create this universe and build a system that could snatch people from mine. And then force them to act as tech support when it went horribly wrong. Still, there was one final possibility.


    "End program! Halt program! Pause program. Show exit." All that achieved was to get Kenver and Jenefer to take a step back, and give me some very peculiar looks. Definitely stuck. Not much to do but run with it then. Breach the castle, save the world, find the way back home. Probably defeat whatever boss was undoubtedly waiting in the throne room. Which I would presumably need to level up to do. Which reminded me.


    "Character screen?" I attempted, which handily rewarded me with the parchment again, showing a worryingly detailed ink drawing of me and all my various stuff. It was fairly typical for an RPG. I had my four basic stats, spells, skills and a mention of that falcon I''d picked. ''Unlocked at level 3.'' Typical. Still, at least I could probably manoeuvre my way through the system enough to survive. Especially with the front and centre quest menu. Dealing with that bear was probably a good first step. It''d let me learn if I was any good in a fight.


    "Okay, you''d best show me to this larder. I''m sure the Mayor is going crazy by now."


    "Jenefer can take you", said Kenver, sweeping his arm at the mess of steel now littering the smithy. "I''ve got to tidy all this up." He turned away and began to collect the dropped items, and I looked at Jenefer.


    "If you''ll follow me milady, I''ll take you to the Mayor." She opened the door and held it for me, and I strode purposefully forward into the daylight, immediately smacking my staff into the doorframe.


    Smiling sheepishly at Jenefer, I tilted the staff and finally managed to leave the smithy. Jenefer shut the door behind us, and I indicated that she should lead the way. Moving a little further away from me, with a final glance at my staff''s point, she set off towards what looked like the centre of the village. Leaning my staff over my shoulder, I followed her.