An otherworldly snort ripped the air around Phil, pulling him from his nightmarish dreams and back into reality. A demonic scream mixed with heavy breathing had him scrambling to his feet and kicking up dust. Eyes wide and mouth ajar Phil faced his demonic adversary. Just above him stood a large horned creature with a flat face with skin like an elephant and large black eyes. It looked down at him and then tilted its head to the side.
"What are you!" Phil said, pushing himself further from the demonic creature.
The wicked thing didn't respond. Instead, it opened its small mouth, and its tongue hung out, followed by a snorting sound filled the small enclosure.
"Quiet you damned horse, or I'll come in there and remind you why you don't stay tied up in front anymore!" A distant voice rang out with a particular accent.
Horse?
Phil had heard of horses and even saw one in a zoo once, but this thing didn't look like any horse he had ever seen. He did note, with a measure of relief, that the 'demonic creature' was reasonably docile. It just stood in its small wooden enclosure with its tongue hanging out and letting an occasional snort.
Phil noticed at least two more smaller creatures pinned off in wooden fences. There didn't seem to be any exterior walls, just fences to keep the 'horses' in and pillars of a dark wood holding up a flat, tiled roof.
A sudden breeze brought a stunning realization to Phil's mind.
He was naked.
Rushing to his feet, Phil looked around for something to cover himself and found, to his great relief, a thick blanket hanging from one of the pillars. A saddle blanket, perhaps? It smelled like when the sewers got backed up and flooded the streets, something that had become all too common with the end of the world around the corner.
The end of the world.
Haven!
Memories of the night before sprang to the front of his mind, and a growing excitement coursed through him. He made it into Haven? He looked around furiously for any sign that this wasn't the earth he remembered. The suns shone brightly in the sky. The strange demon cows snorted as they had been.
Phil broke out in loud, uncontrollable laughter. Two suns? Demon cows? He had obviously made it in. A tension released from him that he had been holding onto since the day he heard of the asteroid was on a collision course.
His hand that supported him against the white clay building slipped, and he fell down, his blanket covering dropping free, but he still kept on laughing. He was free. In a new world. His hands rubbed through his body, feeling for any…imperfections, but to his relief, not only did he feel complete, but he was also very solid.
He really wasn't sure what he expected when he entered the digital world, but as far as he could tell everything was the same. He could still smell the stinky blanket. A gentle breeze confirmed he could still feel cold. His ears caught the sound of a busy street just down the alley he was sitting in and his mouth, unfortunately, could almost taste the stink of the blanket.
Phil breathed in a long, hard, deep breath. The air, despite the smell, felt clean. Cleaner than he could ever remember breathing outside.
Sitting naked in the dirt with a large blanket pulled over his lap and a grin on his face, Phil studied the sky, relaxed for the first time that he could remember.
The sky was a pleasant mix of warm blue-green and streaks of clouds that glowed a mix of oranges and deep purples. He was a part of Haven now, and surely he would be able to live a long and peaceful life.
"Aye, you see something special up there do ya?" The gruff voice was so close to him that he could feel the warm breath of the speaker.
Phil jumped forward so quickly that he actually made it to his feet and then back to his bottom before he had a chance to process what was happening. Warmth spread across his backside, and Phil groaned. Lying in a pile of 'horse' leftovers and wondering if he had added any of his own to the collection, he looked up at his attacker.
A short, swarthy man with a beard so bushy and thick that it hid his lips and most of his face stared down at him. He had eyes that smiled with amusement and a black bowl cap on his head.
"Gave you a fright? I think you may have sh-" The man began saying.
"Are you from earth too, or are you part of the simulation?" Phil asked, getting to his feet and trying to brush the horse leftovers with the blanket. "System command list." Phil hoped that verbal commands might give him access to some sort of menu, but nothing happened. The man in front of him cocked his head and started to laugh.
"You'd expect a man to be a tad confused, waking up in a strange place, but you are downright loony!" The man's voice was laced with laughter, and he spoke with a slight ascent that seemed almost familiar to Phil, like something he had heard in a movie, maybe? He tended to exaggerate the 'O's and the 'I's.
"So you're a real person then?" Phil asked. He felt himself feeling tensing up. Computers he could handle, but people always put him on edge. But he was in a digital world now, so perhaps he could trick his anxiety into not going to blast.
"Am I a person?" The man said. "My name is Golder, and by the nine wells of Nashrene, I should hope so! I know you damned Kohth's think highly of yourselves, but that's coming dangerously close to crossing a line. You come from anywhere, but one of the big valley cities and they treat you like you are some ignorant peasant. You hear me now! I won't be taking any abuse from you, Zarrick or no Zarrick.These folk here in their fancy cities." He spoke the last sentence more to himself while pulling a ratty looking sack from his back and throwing it at Phil.
Phil nearly caught it and then in a show of his impressive physical abilities he managed to dump out the contents and drop the sack. A large blanket unwrapped around a bundle of clothes. Without a second thought and a quick 'thank you' muttered under his breath, Phil dressed, glad to clothes again. Regardless of what he had been given to wear.
Taking a moment to admire the strangeness of the outfit, Phil grinned. It looked like someone had raided the closet of a renaissance fair worker, the pants were made of light brown fabric, no buttons or zipper, just a drawstring to tighten them around his waist and the leg ends fit tight below his new with plenty of material fluffing outward. The shirt was the typical tan colored tunic that you'd expect a medieval obsessed geek to own, except that it had large slits in the sides and came down just above his knees. Even the boots which fit perfectly, were made of soft leather and sat higher on his leg than Phil thought should be necessary. He felt like he was wearing a costume, but he couldn't deny the perfect fit and comfort they offered.
The blanket that had fallen from the sack turned out to be some kind of hooded cape and not a blanket at all.
"You'll be wanting to throw that cloak on. The wind has been picking up, and the eastern mountains are bringing a dreadful chill."
Phil did as he was told and threw the cloak around his neck. The warmth it provided took the chill from the air.
He found himself wondering what he was supposed to do next. Follow this man who conveniently showed up with clothes for him? He could be a part of the program. Maybe an interface of sorts that he could get information from if he asked the right questions?
He had fond memories of playing games online as a child where you could interact with the AI to find out more information about objectives. He had fallen out of playing the games as an adult and spent his free time working on creating his own AI's based on current advancements.
Remembering that when playing those games, you didn't have to ask an exact question to get the desired response, but you had to get close enough that the AI could work out your meaning. Or if the AI were programmed to be deliberately closed mouthed, you would need to work out a way to ask without asking. This seemed like it might be the latter rather than the former.
If this AI simulated man was going to not answer him directly, perhaps he could play along and try to figure out what info he had to give.
"It'll be cold?" Phil asked, turning to the man, Golder. "Is it cold a lot around these parts?"
"Aye during winter it tends to be cold," Golder said with a chuckle. "We best be moving on quickly. If you don't like the cold now, just wait till nightfall hits."
Phil watched Golder turn and walk towards one of the open walls. He had a cloak slung about his shoulder as well and seemed to be wearing a thickly padded vest of some kind with equally looking warm pants. His boots were black and rose high on his legs stopping just below the knee. Golder turned back to Phil suddenly.
"You leaving that gem behind for just anyone to take are ya?" Golder said, pointing to the point of ground behind Phil.
What gem? Phil turned and just to the left of where he had been sitting was indeed some strange gem. It was about the size of a walnut and pulsed a dim blue light. At first glance, it looked like an uncut hunk of smooth rock, but as he approached and picked it up, he saw the inner blue light reflecting, almost dancing, inside giving the smooth perfect roundness of the stone a rough look.
"What is it?" Phil asked.
"A gem," Golder said. Then scrunching his eyes towards the stone, he sighed. "I'm sad to say that I can't identify it. But it looks magical with that light bouncing all about like that. I'd hold on to to it, might be worth something."
Phil just nodded and stared at the gem until Golder cleared his throat and muttered something Phil couldn't make out about making love to something. Blushing Phil pocketed the gem and followed after him.
While still struggling to come up with a question that might reveal what he was supposed to do now that he had gotten into Haven, Phil trailed behind the shorter burly man.
Despite it being winter, by Golder's account, the ground was bare of any snow or sleet. A path of hard packed dirt followed the plaster wall, several windows higher up than Phil thought should be necessary where the only break in the vast wall of white. The building looked two stories tall, based on the positioning of the windows, but it had to be as tall as a typical three-story building by earth standards.
A bitterly cold wind whipped his cloak to the side, exposing Phil's skin to the cold, dry air of the wide open street. The building that they exited next to appeared busy, with several men stumbling out as other attempted to push their way through the large set door. The sign out front read 'Bumbling Baron," and the smell of alcohol from the exiting patrons was strong in the air despite the occasional burst of wind blowing through the broad street.
"Aye I'd be wishing to have a sip to warm my belly as well," Golder said, cranking his next towards Phil. "But alas we need to push on. Zarrick will be expecting us."
Phil glanced over at the stout man and watched him eye the place with hungry eyes.
"I'm not a huge fan of alcohol myself actually," Phil said. "We are going to meet someone named Zarrick, you say? Is he going to help me get set up in this..uhh..new city? Perhaps he can show me where I can meet with other people like me?"
"I only know what I am told. And I was told to fetch you.," Golder said. "Although if I might be so bold to say. You must be mighty important if he sent me to get you. I'm no damned errant boy and usually am only sent out for important or dangerous tasks."
The tone of his voice as he said dangerous actually made Phil take a step back. This 'Haven' was turning out to be an exciting place. Looking around the street, he noticed how different everyone looked. It seemed like each AI was given their own story and background and went about their lives as if they were real people.
Another thing that struck him as he watched the people, the level of technology being used was ancient. Wagons, oil street lamps, strange bull like horses pulling carriages. They had made this 'Haven' place like ancient earth but still different. He was no expert in the medieval area, but a few things like the lamps and how flat this stone street was, seemed out of place for the period 'Haven' was trying to mimic.
Oh well, he thought. He had seen plenty of gallant knights and princess movies to know what to expect. He noticed a distinct lack of flying people or fireballs being thrown around so perhaps he wouldn't be getting any cool magic after all. Pity.
"You are pretty short, and all the people around us are tall, why is that?" Phil asked. He had formed the question in his head before speaking, and after actually speaking it aloud, he blushed. Not the smoothest conversation he had ever had, but he was genuinely curious why everyone walking the streets around them towered over even him. They looked like they could be related to Doctor Vikar with how tall and thick the men stood. Even the woman walking around stood well over six feet on average.
"You aren't such a large fellow yourself for a Kortharian," Golder said. "My people, from the northern coast, Asharens, aren't known for their height. Not that it matters much, being this height gives us good access to you folks soft bits. Smash a fist or forehead into those, and even the mightiest Korthar man will come crashing down."
"Oh, so you are from another race of people or something? Like a dwarf?" Phil asked, growing excited.
"A dwarf?" Golder seemed outraged at something Phil had said. He had turned and put himself within inches from Phil's chest, which only helped but to mark the height difference. He stood barely up to Phil's chest.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean it as an ins-" Pain flashed in, and Phil fell to his knees, bringing him eye level with the 'not dwarf' Golder.
"Soft bits," Golder said. "I'm Asharen and just the same as any man. To call me by any other name is an insult to my clan. I see now you aren't wise to the way of the world, but I won't stand for you to insult my honor."
Phil barely heard his words, his delicate bits throbbing from the unexpected impact. After an acceptable amount of time, Phil stood up. He didn't know whether he should be mad or scared, but he was definitely confused. A small part of him wanted to ask the Asharen why being called a dwarf was such an insult, a much bigger part of him thought better of it.
No longer feeling like he wanted to ask more questions, Phil searched the street to see where the dwar-the Asharen man had gone. He noted to his embarrassment that a few people had stopped and had started pointing at him.
A dark shape on the far side of the street caught Phil's attention. Just opposite to a shop that had a window filled with books with strange geometric shapes on the cover, it was Golder signaling him over.
Relieved, but also slightly scared, Phil jogged over to him. The wind gusted through the massive street as he moved between the unusually tall people. Bright colored clothing and glints of metal armor swarmed all around him as he cut through the street. He noted with interest that nearly every man and woman had plain looking daggers of varies sizes tucked into their belts. In fact, as he slowed and studied the swarming crowds, he noticed that only those wearing armor wore swords or held spears and they were clearly some kind of guards with their matching armor and similar livery.
This really was a medieval style world, he found himself thinking. And beyond that, the programmers really went out of their way to make the pain as sharp and realistic as real life. The throbbing had mostly subsided in his soft bits, but it had been a very very real feeling.
"Hoods up," Golder said as Phil reached him in the alley. "We've already attracted more attention than I'd like. We have a long way to go yet. I don't want to risk taking a carriage and getting stuck in a closed space so we will have to walk the whole way."
Phil couldn't help but want to remind the Asharen that it was his actions that had put them in the spotlight, but quickly thought better of it.
"Is it far?" Phil asked. He turned sideways as he spoke to make it harder for Golder to get another shot off.
"How do you find yourself in a city and not know the size of it?" Golder asked, head shaking back and forth. Letting out an exaggerated sigh, he continued. "If we took the main road, we could make it to the upper district in two maybe three hours, but I'm opting to take us a more roundabout way, so we should make it just after nightfall."
"Nightfall?" Phil asked, looking into the shadowed alley Golder was about to take him into. "What time is it now?" Phil looked up and into one of the sun, an action he immediately regretted. His vision pulsed with a large spot, and he cursed his stupidity.
"I'd say an hour after midmorning..maybe less."
"Are you sure you didn't want to take a horse carriage or something?" Phil asked. The spots were clearing from his vision, and he wasn't relishing the idea of walking for eight or more hours. How big did a city have to be if you could walk for eight hours and not get to your destination?
What followed was the longest hours of Phil's adult life. His legs pulsed from the pain of walking and the brisk pace the dwarf kept. It also didn't help that they had backtracked several times after Golder had taken a good look at the next alley or street. It got to the point where Golder began having Phil hang back alone while he scouted ahead for some unseen danger.
Phil leaned on the wall of a filthy three-story building, waiting for Golder to return from one such scouting mission. His gaze drifted up to the darkening sky. The suns had disappeared from the sky. Reds, purples, and strangely a few streaks of green painted the evening sky. A large moon had taken the place of the sun and glowed a pleasantly soft blue in the ever darkening sky. Phil's vision adjusted to the strange night sky, and he noted that several smaller planets could be seen in the sky just to either side of the large moon.
He shifted his feet to relieve the throbbing pain from his blisters, and his vision of the sky became somewhat blocked by the clothing lines connecting between the buildings in the narrow alleyway. The street was easily one of the smelliest and dirtiest ones he had found himself in, and he found himself laughing at the clothing lines. Like they kept anything clean here.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here boys?" A voice said filled the narrow alley. "I don't remember inviting you into MY turf. Hey Frey did you give this boy permission to be in our alley?"
"Of course not, boss!" Another voice said. "I been w'itch you all day, remember?"
A dull thudding sound rang in the alley as three forms walked out of the darkness and into the dim light of the alley just ahead of Phil.
"Ow boss that 'urt," The same voice said. "Why'd ya hit me?"
"Shut up Frey can't you see I'm busy right now." The first voice said. "For passing through our territory, you'll be paying a toll. Empty yah pockets."
Phil stared at the three approaching men. The memory of the pain in his groin was still fresh in his mind. No way he was letting himself get hurt again.
"Golder help! GOLDER!!" Phil screamed as loud as he could while quickly back peddling away from his would-be attackers. Something caught his foot, and he cursed as he fell backward.
The three men stopped for only a moment as he called out the name of his escort, but when no one appeared, wicked grins split their faces, and they surrounded him.
Phil wasn't sure what he could do. He had no way to defend himself. No weapon. Nothing. His instincts were to get up and run, but he was too afraid to even do that with the three of them standing over him. So he stayed on the ground and pushed himself back until he was pressed against the wall of one of the tall buildings.
"I-I don't…I don't have any money." He finally managed to say as the lead ruffian approached.
"You better hope that ain't the truth cause we will have to take the payment out of your hide and then we will hold you until your friend returns. Then if he wants you back in one piece, he can pay us. How's that sound?"
"Yah boss that's a good plan!" Frey said enthusiastically.
"I wasn't asking you, yah dummy."
"Oh, sorry boss. I wasn't sure."
"If I could interject a better idea!" Phil said, a sudden idea coming to him. "Perhaps instead of robbing me, or waiting to rob my traveling companion, I could tell you where to get some buried treasure?" Wait buried treasure was a pirate thing, not a medieval thing… perhaps they would take the bait anyway.
"Oh buried treasure boss!" The one called Frey jumped up on his heels as he spoke. "That sounds pretty good boss! Let's take the treasure!"
"Yah simpleton he ain't got no treasure buried." The leader said. "He just knows we are about to give him a thrashing. Let's get on with it and thump him a good one before his friend returns."
***Phil had been using the side of the building to slowly get to his feet after finding a useful item laying nearby. The alley was filled with discarded trash and other undefinable refuse. Clutching a narrow piece of wood in his hand behind his back, Phil prepared to do the bravest thing he had ever done.
He was going to fight back.
Even the thought of fighting back made him weak in the knees. The memory of pain that Golder had instilled on him still stung sharply in his mind, and he knew he had to do something to keep himself from getting hurt again.
Taking a deep breath, he waited with his head hung low for the first one to approach.
Like any good leader would do, the head ruffian sent in one of the others first. The quiet one and the biggest one stepped forward, punching his fist into his hand. The man had to be at least seven foot tall, and beyond that, he sported thickly corded muscles up his arms.
Phil was going to need a bigger stick.
As the man moved into arms reach, he swatted towards Phil as if to grab his shirt. Phil wished he could account for his quick reaction to good fighting sense, but the truth was his knees basically gave out in fright. But in this instance, it saved him from being grappled.
Not wasting any time, Phil swung out with his hidden weapon aiming for the knees of his attacker. The large man was too close and didn't have enough time to jump clear of the strike. With a soft thud and a shower of splintered wood, Phil's weapon was gone.
The man didn't fall back in pain like Phil had been hoping. He didn't even cry out. The wood must have been ancient and rotten. It hadn't even hurt the large man. Damn. Phil tried to roll to the side like he had seen in so many action movies, but all he got for his trouble was a shoulder covered in grim as the large man took his time and lifted Phil back to his feet.
The smell of whatever he had just slid himself into was almost enough that he could forget the danger he was in. Almost. Bad smell notwithstanding he now stood in front of a huge and terrifying man.
"Shouldn've done that." The leader said, shaking his head. "Cull here is usually pretty gentle, but you've gone and soiled his clothes with alley filth. Now he is going to have to knock some REAL sense into yah."
Phil only had a moment to admire the ridiculousness of the statement the lead ruffian had utter while all of them were covered in filth, for a large hand came slamming into his stomach.
If he had had any food in his stomach, he would have lost it. His stomach shot with pain, and he struggled to fill his lungs with air. While still in the midst of hyperventilating another blow landed, this time higher. The strike caught his chest with such force that he was flung out of his bend over position and his head snapped backward.
Lights flashed in his vision, and he struggled to keep himself conscious. The pain seemed a distant thing that he couldn't quite understand. Why was he in a fight again, he wondered?
Through the fog of his thoughts, he felt the back of his head pulse with pain. Screams of pain filled the surrounding alleyway. Why was he screaming? He wasn't screaming. There was a blur of movement, and the large blur in front of him dropped two directions. A few pieces this way and a few that way. Was that an arm?
His foggy thoughts snapped away, and he clearly saw the scene around him at the same time, a sharp pinching penetrated his stomach. Phil felt the surge of adrenaline pumping through him throwing his mind into focus.
Looking down, Phil noticed a handle protruding from his stomach. When had he been stabbed? Not knowing what else to do, he reached down and pulled the blade free. It was a hand span long and covered in red blood.
As soon as the blade came free from his flesh, he realized his mistake. A steady stream of warm blood leaked from his stomach, and his head began to fog over once more. Phil slumped back against the nearby building and catch the sight of a small dwarf-like man tackling another dark figure. Then nothing but black.