I sat back in the chair, stunned. I expected the programmed racism and greed from NPC’s, but the thought of a player turning me in for the financial benefit alone had not crossed my mind.

  “Shit.” I said.

  “Don’t worry,” Arlo said, “you lucked out tonight. Your secret is safe with us. Right, everyone?”

  Each person agreed, meeting my eyes. I breathed a sigh of relief and took a swig, as the older elven woman approached the table and delivered my soup and bread. I thanked her with a Copper and a smile, which she returned.

  I answered numerous questions as I ate. The soup was just as delicious as advertised, if not more. The bread was fluffy, with a crispy golden crust. Bits of meat and vegetables floated in the soup, which was a brown color, dappled with pepper and other herbs.

  I explained the class selection exam at the Adventurer’s Guild, and the Mentor Chit. They were shocked that I had not yet joined the Adventurer’s Guild, and invited me to join their party once I had gained admittance. They had two spots remaining — seven was the highest number of players for a party. I agreed to join, excited to move beyond weaponizing coins.

  They explained how different their initial experiences in Veil had been from the start. After selecting the race, players were directed to choose a starting region. This region was based on racial selection. Class selection was done last, and changed based on both race and region.

  The four of them had spawned into the game with mentors already assigned. Those mentors had provided brief tutorial-like quests, to get them acquainted with combat, and a variety of class-related information. Their mentors had accompanied them to the Adventurer’s Guild and gotten them Copper level memberships, the lowest tier of adventurer.

  We talked long into the night. Time flew by as we compared our experiences in the first two days of the game. I brought about a universal reaction for a third time, when I talked about the revival item I had gotten from completing the quest to save Cataryn.

  “Revival items are exceedingly rare,” Elsetha mused in disbelief, “we briefly touched on the subject in my studies this morning. Revival in this world is very rare — only high level priests can perform the ritual. Finding a priest of sufficient strength is rare. An item with that kind of power is a hundred times more rare. A thousand. Entire kingdoms are sold for an item that can reverse death.”

  “And you used it on an… an animal?” Arlo asked.

  “It was a lot more than an animal, but… yeah. I think it was worth it. And who knows, maybe with quests, those items will be more common now than they have been in the game?”

  “It is possible, but I doubt it,” Elestha said. “They have entire sections in the great library dedicated to revival magic. It is the reason noble families invest so much into churches and faith magics.”

  Our conversation turned to other topics, and we spoke for another hour, when I noticed an odd quiet fall in the inn. I looked around and realized the band had ended their night’s performance. Most of the crowd had left. My dishes had been removed long ago. I yawned, igniting a round of yawns around the table.

  “Think it’s time to get some shut-eye,” Hannah said. We all agreed. Before going to our individual rooms, they introduced me to the chat interface and invited me to their party, to familiarize myself with the mechanics involved.

  Parties were semi-temporary gatherings in Veil, disbanding if too much distance was accumulated between members.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  They explained that parties were meant to be formed at the adventurer’s guild on a mission-by-mission basis. A group of adventurers would select a mission that recommended a group, then form the group, disbanding after successful completion of the mission.

  The chat interface was intuitive. I was able to project my thoughts into text form, and send them to any person in my contact list — or groups of people. They added me to their group chat and we made our way to our rooms for the night. Our conversation transitioned into the chat interface.

  Arlo: So we meet up tomorrow once Chanter is in the guild and take our first group mission?

  Hannah: Sounds good to me!

  Elsetha: Yes, I will complete my studying in the morning and should be available in the evening.

  Tobias: Same, I should be done with my stuff by mid day and be ready.

  Chanter: Thanks everyone, it was great meeting you all!

  They replied with reciprocation.

  I found my room and went in, locking the door with a wide bolt near the top, before lying down. The events of the last two days played through my mind as I lay there, and I feared I would not be able to sleep.

  After a few minutes, I sat up. If sleep would not come, I could spend the time working on my Transform skill.

  I focused, shifting forms, for another half hour, getting the skill up another five levels. The process was painful, but it was a fleeting pain that I grew accustomed to. Knowing it would not linger helped.

  Transform has leveled up! (15/50)

  I lay back, exhausted from the work, as the notification dissipated. I smiled, closing my eyes.

  Chirping birds and blinding rays from the rising sun pulled me from a deep and restive sleep. I stood, stretched, and made my way downstairs. I ate a delicious breakfast of eggs and thinly sliced pork, before returning the key and making my way out of the inn and into the city.

  It was early morning, and I had half a day to kill before the meeting with Cahl at the Fisherman’s Daughter.

  My new friends each had responsibilities to attend to first thing in the morning. All four of them had been out and about before the sun rose — I caught up on a brief bit of conversation in the group chat where each person went over what they would be doing.

  It was such a positive shift from the lonely terror I had felt when I first began in the world of Veil. I thought about how wonderful it was to have friends as I walked through the city.

  I didn’t have a destination in mind. I turned on the main road, then began taking side roads and alleys, to avoid the dense morning crowd.

  After a few minutes of walking down a clean alley — a few turns from a smaller road — I felt a sense of unease. The tiny hairs on my body stood on end. Goosebumps spread across my skin.

  I started to turn around and my world was enveloped in darkness as something was pulled over my head. Something hit me several times, breaking one of my ribs. The blows continued until I lost consciousness.

  I awoke in a world of black, strung across someone’s shoulders like a sack of potatoes, with a sack of some kind still tied around my head. I struggled, and heard curses before being dropped to the ground, and beaten into unconsciousness for a second time.

  The second time I woke up I didn't immediately move. I was laying in a small square cage that was half as tall as I was. It was so cramped that I was unable to stand, or even crouch. I tried to pull up my communications, and received an Error! Gagged. Unable to communicate until the gag is removed.

  A balled up cloth had been shoved into my mouth and was held in place with another strip of twisted cloth. My hands were bound behind my back, and my ankles were bound with strips of braided leather. I took deep breaths through my nose to try and calm down the rising sense of claustrophobia that my predicament was causing. I took a moment and looked around.

  My cage was one of four, lashed in a covered cart. Two of the cages were empty. The third held a small, round figure. It was difficult to see anything beyond the gentle rise and fall of its breathing. It was covered in short brown fur.The cart and cages occasionally jostled from the uneven road we were being pulled down, throwing us up into the bars.

  I tried twisting my arms to escape the bonds. When that failed, I tried using my transform ability to make myself smaller. I got another error message. Error! Bound. Unable to transform until bonds are removed.

  I mentally cursed, trying to shift around. The cart stopped moving. Blinding light filled the inside of the covering, and a familiar face appeared near the back of the cart as the fabric was moved aside. He smiled at me, a cruel smile that did not reach his eyes.

  The older elven man that had been trying to kidnap Cataryn stood at the opened flap. “Glad you’re awake. This is going to be a lot of fun.”

  He held the man-catcher in one hand, tapping it against the palm of his other hand, as he backed away and let the flap of the wagon cover fall back down.