5:47 AM. Damn it.
Shift starts in seventy-three minutes.
I forced myself up, joints protesting. I stepped into the ionic shower — three minutes of unpleasant, stinging prickles that supposedly cleaned the skin — threw on my regulation white shirt, still wrinkled from the last cycle, swallowed a beige square that claimed to be toasted bread, and headed out.
The corridor. The elevator. The shopping mall already teeming with grey, faceless silhouettes. The subway with its soothing, fruit-scented gas pumped into the vents. Then the final hundred-meter sprint against the howling wind outside.
Routine. A daily victory of the machine.
The hangar. Ten thousand narrators in identical rows. My unit,104. I sat down. Thermos filled. Lukewarm coffee. VR Mask.
Click. Blackness.
Then...
Morning rose over the village — though "rose" was a generous term, given that the sky remained a uniform, oppressive grey. It looked as if the sun had permanently abandoned this corner of the world for more welcoming lands.
Kael and Zik stood before the tavern, packs strapped to their backs, ready to depart.
— Alright, Kael said, tugging at his leather straps to adjust the weight. Where to now?
Hill-Furt. The city to the north. A two-day trek through rolling hills, dead heather, and likely a series of traumatizing events that—
— Likely? Kael interrupted. You’re supposed to KNOW what’s coming for us.
— It’s literally the same thing.
— Yes, it is.
Zik stepped in, as pragmatic as ever, cutting through the bickering.
— Why are we going to Hill-Furt exactly?
— The Adventurers' Guild, Kael replied with an enthusiasm that clashed violently with the depressing scenery surrounding them. If I want to earn a decent wage instead of ten coppers per shitty quest, I need to register officially.
— You earned twenty-two coppers for the bandits, Zik corrected him.
— Which I didn’t even KILL! Marcus did all the heavy lifting while I lay on the ground like a piece of shit!
— Technical detail, the goblin shrugged.
[ACTIVE QUEST: TRAVEL TO HILL-FURT]
[DISTANCE: 45 KM]
[ESTIMATED TIME: 2 DAYS PENDING CATASTROPHIC EVENTS]
— Pending catastrophic events? Kael read aloud. Super reassuring.
— Bullshit.
They took the northern road — a path of beaten earth that wound lazily between grey hills covered in dead heather and stunted shrubs that seemed to have given up on the very concept of photosynthesis. The sky, eternally leaden, weighed on them like a depressing shroud.
— Say, Zik, Kael asked after an hour of silent walking. What exactly is your class?
— Rogue, the goblin answered, stepping over a gnarled root. Level 2.
— What does rogue mean? Is it like a thief?
— A bit of a thief, a bit of a warrior, a bit of a tinkerer. We’re versatile.
Zik, modest as always, omitted the fact that Rogues were essentially living Swiss Army knives — capable of picking locks, sliding a knife between your ribs before you could blink, disarming lethal traps, AND negotiating the price of stale bread with the charisma of a veteran merchant.
— Hey, Zik protested, looking at the air. ? What the hell is a Swiss Army knife?
— You said LIVING Swiss Army knife. Does that mean there are DEAD ones?
[ZIK - ROGUE LEVEL 2]
[STR: 6, END: 14, AGI: 18, PER: 16, INT: 12, CHA: 11, WIL: 8, LUCK: 13]
[HP: 38] (10 + 2x14)
[MP: 42] (10 + 2x12 + 8)
[SKILLS: SNEAK ATTACK, LOCKPICKING, DISARM TRAPS, MECHANICAL TINKERING, NEGOTIATION]
— Wait, Kael said, stopping dead in his tracks. You have 13 in Luck?
— Yeah. Why?
— I have 7.
— Ouch.
— And you have 18 in Agility. I also have... wait, what’s my score now?
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
— 21, Zik noted.
— Okay, I’ve got you beat there. But what else? Mechanical tinkering?
— I build small mechanical systems, Zik explained. Traps, locks, spring-loaded mechanisms. Useful for opening doors, disarming things that want to kill you, or just repairing gear.
— Like my rusty sword?
— No. That thing is garbage. You'd need to melt it down entirely.
— Great.
— On the other hand, I’m a good negotiator, Zik added. I have 11 in Charisma, so I know how to sell items for the right price.
— I have 7.
— I know. It shows.
— What do you mean it shows?!
— You have the face of a guy who just doesn't inspire trust. Like, if you tried to sell me a horse, I’d check its teeth three times.
— Nice.
They continued walking through the monotonous landscape.
— Metaphor for hope dying slowly? Kael repeated. You’re really cheerful today.
— It’s DEPRESSING.
Every now and then, a twisted tree would emerge from the fog, its naked branches clawing at the grey sky like the skeletal fingers of a corpse desperately searching for—
— Okay, stop, Zik interrupted. We get it. It’s ugly. No need to pile it on.
— Badly.
They walked until twilight. The oppressive grey of the sky deepened into an even darker, more menacing shade.
— We should camp, Kael suggested, scanning the area.
A small clearing opened up fifty yards to the left, sheltered by a ring of boulders.
— Good idea.
They settled in. Zik lit a fire with surprising dexterity.
— Rogue skill? Kael asked, impressed.
— No. Goblin skill. I lived fifteen years in damp caves where if you didn't light a fire fast, you died of hypothermia before dawn.
— Oh. Less glamorous.
— Welcome to my life.
They ate in silence. Dry bread, cheese that smelled like feet, lukewarm water.
— Do we reach Hill-Furt tomorrow? Kael asked between difficult bites.
Normally, yes. Late afternoon, provided no catastrophic events intervened — which, statistically speaking, was highly improbable given Kael’s Luck stat.
— Highly improbable? Kael noted.
— You’re really encouraging.
Night fell completely. The fire crackled cheerfully, totally oblivious to the imminent danger lurking in the shadows.
— Imminent danger? Zik repeated, looking up. Is there something out there?
— How can you not know? You’re the narrator!
Zik took the first watch. Kael lay down, back against a rock, sword within reach, and closed his eyes.
The howl tore through the night.
A high-pitched, metallic sound, deeply disturbing. Kael sat up with a jolt.
— What the HELL was that?!
— Creepers, Zik replied calmly, his knife already in hand. Four of them.
[HOSTILE ENTITIES DETECTED: HILL CREEPERS ×4]
[LEVEL 2-3]
[HP: 30 EACH]
[BEHAVIOR: PACK HUNTING, AGGRESSION MAX]
The creatures emerged from the darkness. Two meters long, their segmented bodies resembled giant centipedes covered in greenish chitinous scales. Triangular lizard heads were topped with oversized insect mandibles.
— WHAT IN THE GODDAMN HELL ARE THOSE THINGS?! Kael screamed.
— I told you! Creepers!
The first creeper lunged without warning.
[INITIATIVE: ZIK - AGILITY 18]
Zik dodged with a fluid, almost dancing grace, rolling to the side before driving his knife home.
[ZIK ATTACK ROLL: 23. CRITICAL SUCCESS]
[DAMAGE: 13 HP]
[CREEPER #1: 17/30 HP]
The creeper hissed, twisting its body as its mandibles snapped toward Zik.
[CREEPER ATTACK ROLL: 67. FAILURE]
A miss. Zik rolled again.
— I’ve got this one! Handle the others!
Two more creepers converged on Kael.
— THANKS FOR THE ADVICE, CAPTAIN OBVIOUS!
[KAEL ATTACK ROLL: 45. SUCCESS]
[DAMAGE: 9 HP]
[CREEPER #2: 21/30 HP]
Kael sheared off the front two legs of Creeper #2. The creature lunged forward regardless.
[CREEPER #2 ATTACK ROLL: 34. SUCCESS]
[DAMAGE: 9 HP]
The mandibles clamped shut on Kael's left arm.
[KAEL HP: 97/106]
— AHHH! FUCK!
[STRENGTH ROLL: 52. FAILURE]
[52 - 7 = 45. SUCCESS]
[REMAINING LUCK: 0/3 TODAY]
Kael roared, tearing the creeper off his arm and slamming it against a boulder.
[IMPACT DAMAGE: 8 HP]
[CREEPER #2: 13/30 HP]
The third creeper attacked from the left flank.
[CREEPER #3 ROLL: 28. SUCCESS]
[DAMAGE: 10 HP]
[KAEL HP: 87/106]
— DAMN IT ALL!
Zik vanished and reappeared, burying his knife in Creeper #3's head.
[SNEAK ATTACK: CRITICAL SUCCESS]
[DAMAGE: 19 HP]
[CREEPER #3: 11/30 HP]
The fourth creeper — the boss — emerged from the gloom. More massive, with black scales and scars covering its hide.
— Hey, a hissing voice came from the creature. What's all this ruckus?
Kael and Zik froze.
— ...The creeper talks? Kael whispered.
— Of course I talk, the boss-creeper replied. You think we’re just mindless beasts?
— Uh... yes?
— Typical systemic discrimination. Listen, you've killed three of my subordinates. Technically, I should slaughter you. But I’m a pragmatist. You leave now, we forget this . You stay, I eat you.
Kael looked at Zik. Zik looked at Kael.
Kael and Zik backed away slowly, weapons still raised.
— Wise, the creature commented.
They moved off into the night. The boss-creeper didn't move. Then:
— Hey, human! Your Charisma is absolute garbage. Work on that.
— ...Thanks for the advice!
[COMBAT: CANCELLED]
[+60 XP FOR TACTICAL SURVIVAL]
[TOTAL XP: 450/500]
They walked for another hour before finding a new spot. No fire this time. Dawn finally arrived.
— Should we keep going? Kael asked.
— We keep going.