When his vision returned, Troy found himself sitting at a table in a middle eastern-styled tavern. It had a bar and three circular tables and 4 long rectangular ones with chairs surrounding both. A hookah sat in the corner, wooden screen concealing the smokers as they puffed from the pipe, blowing sickly-sweet smelling smoke. Incense wafted from sticks in the corner in front of a small shrine to a local deity.
The other players were sitting next to him, sharing the same long, rectangular table. They’d pulled another one together to make sure they all fit. The air was hot, the wind blowing through the open tavern door almost as hot, doing nothing to cool the room.
There were other people around them, sitting at tables and leaning against the walls. They were dressed in robes and veils and other mid-eastern appropriate attire. Troy noted no one was wearing metal armor. At most, he saw a few leather chest pieces. They were frozen in place, unmoving.
TESTING, THIS IS MARK. RAISE YOUR HAND IF YOU CAN HEAR ME
Everyone’s hands rose.
GOOD. LET ME EXPLAIN A FEW THINGS. YOU ARE IN THE GAME, LOOKING THROUGH THE EYES OF YOUR FIGURES. THEY ARE SEEING A VR CONSTRUCT. I, ON THE OTHER HAND, AM OUTSIDE THE SIMULATION. SAFETY INSTRUCTIONS: IF YOU PANIC OR NEED TO PEE, THE SAFEWORD IS ‘SASSY ORANGUTAN’. GOT IT?
Everyone nodded.
NEXT ARE THE RULES. SINCE WE’RE STARTING A NEW GAME, LET’S DO CHARACTER INTRODUCTIONS. DREW, YOU GO FIRST.
The otter man, who was dressed in dark garb, spoke with a subtle accent. “My name is Many-Faces Rashid. I’m a Brenneri Rogue.” With a flourish, he produced a knife and flipped it. He caught it and balanced it, point first, on one finger. “I grew up in the slums and worked my way up in a street gang. Now I’m a freelancer. I specialize in penetration missions, if you know what I mean.”
“He means he fucks a lot of asses.” Greg snickered.
“I’ll stick this knife up your ass if you don’t shut up.” Drew replied hotly
BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP. DRAKE?
A red-scaled kobold, shorter than the Brennari’s four feet, stood on his chair and chiped. “My name’s Sulpu of the Red Sands Tribe. I’m an artificer. And this little guy” The kobold pointed at a little metal snapping turtle. “Is Kog, my steel defender. I built him myself, even though my fellow tribesmen thought I was weird to do so. When I came of age, I came to the city seeking training at an academy. Unfortunately, tuition is a bitch, so I’m searching for some quick, easy money.”
“Oh, nice.” Greg said.
“Thanks.” Drake smiled.
JEREMIAH?
A huge, half-naked half-giant wielding a heavy chain stood, towering over most of the group. “My name is Kharduom, I’m a half-giant barbarian. I fought in the gladiator arenas as a slave and escaped during a revolt. I hope to garner enough wealth to buy the freedom of all the slaves.”
“They have slaves here?” Troy asked.
“Yes.” Lancer replied. “Though it is becoming a topic of much controversy.”
RIGHT. CONTINUING ON, DUSTIN.
A gnoll wearing throwing axes strapped to his belt and across his back and worn-out leather chest piece over dusty robes bounced happily in his seat, tail wagging like it was flagging down a taxi. “My name is Gnuz Bloodclaw. I’m a skilled Ranger. I’m one of the few people who can sniff out water and track people in the desert. I offer my services as a guide through the Scorching Wastes. I’m just here looking for another contract.”
NICE. LANCE?
A majestic white-furred Leonin came to his feet. He was the only person in the tavern wearing metal armor. He cleared his throat. “My name is Hasta Auroraruptor, a Paladin of the Sovereign Kings of Eld and Knight of the Stalking Lands. I journeyed across the Scorching Wastes on a sand skiff and have only just arrived. I search for a way to redeem my father’s honor and accomplish the task he could not.”
“What task?” Drew asked.
“It is a secret.” Lancer replied.
NO SPOILERS. GREG?
A distinguished half-orc wearing flowing, embroidered robes, stood. “My name is Zuberi. I’m a half-orc wizard who attended the academy here. His parents paid his tuition but are broke and teeter on poverty in their old age. He wishes to pay them back as quickly as they can before they are left homeless.”
TROY?
The imposing rhino stood, wearing only a loincloth and a hooded cape. “I am Icarian of the Golden Order. I’m a Rhox War Monk. I’m here on an expeditionary mission to find an artifact belonging to my Order rumored to be here.”
“Where is here?” Drake asked.
I’M ABOUT TO GET TO THAT. HOLD ON.
The tavern shifted to an aerial view of the tavern, then zoomed out.
A great city with a port lay below them. Their tavern was on the outskirts, near the East side of the city. The building were beautiful, rising high into the air. In the center of the city was a hill, upon which was built a grand palace.
THIS IS THE GREAT DESERT CITY OF HAMADURI!
LEGEND HAS IT, THE CITY WAS FOUNDED BY A RUNAWAY SLAVE. HE CAME TO THE PLACE WHERE THAT PALACE SITS AND STARTED DIGGING. THE GODS PLACED BETS ON HIS SURVIVAL. AS THE DAYS CRAWLED BY AND HE LOST HIS STRENGTH, THE GODS STARTED BETTING ON HOW LONG HER WOULD LAST. ONLY ONE GOD HAD HIS BACK, AND THE OTHER GODS SCORNED HER DESIRE TO SEE THE MORTAL LIVE AND EARNED HER IRE. A SUDDEN STORM FILLED THE MAN’S HOLE WITH WATER.
“That’s nice and all, but why are we here?” Drew asked.
UNFORTUNATELY, DREW’S CHARACTER HAS A SUDDEN HEART ATTACK AND DIES AFTER INTERUPTING ME TOO MANY TIMES.
“Funny.” Drew rolled his eyes.
PLEASE STOP INTERUPTING ME. FINAL WARNING.
“I got it, I got it.” Drew held up his hands in defeat.
THE GOLDEN CALIPH, HAVING RECENTLY ASSUMED HIS POSITION AFTER HIS FATHER DIED, IS HOLDING A COMPETITION. AFTER TEN YEARS OF FOREIGN OCCUPATION, HAMADURI’S COFFERS ARE RUNNING DRY. ADVENTURING PARTIES ARE TO REGISTER BY MIDNIGHT TONIGHT. YOU WILL BE GIVEN A RANDOM MAP WITH A LOCATION AND QUEST MARKED ON THE BACK. GO WHEREEVER IT INDICATES, RETRIEVE THE ITEM, AND RETURN WITHIN A MONTH.
“Treasure hunt. Nice.” Drew nodded happily.
I’M GLAD YOU APPROVE. I WAS SO WORRIED.
The point of view shifted form the city at the edge of the desert to the tavern, zooming back in. Troy found himself looking through the eyes of the miniature.
REMEMBER, REGISTER BY MIDNIGHT. READY? SET. GO!
Sound came on, and the other patrons in the tavern started moving, talking and chatting in English, which surprised Troy.
“They all speak English? Not really immersive.” Drew scoffed.
“Actually, they are speaking Common.” Lancer interjected. “After teleportation became possible, a need for a common language became apparent. What we now know as Common was previously referred to as Trade, as it was developed by Traders to communicate with each other on international markets.”
Drew stared at him. “Oh.”
“So what do we do now? It’s still noon.” Greg asked.
Dustin stood. "I'm going to order a beer."
The gnoll padded off to the bar, flagging down the bartender.
"Come on, day drinking already?” Troy stood and walked towards Dustin. Lancer got up and followed him.
“I want to know if this thing has programmed flavors in it.” Dustin said and placed two gold coins on the bar. “Two beers, please.”
The bartender was a jolly, fat, middle aged man (As all bartenders were). He saw the gold gleaming on the counter and rushed over.
“Sir, that’s a fine tip, but beer is only a copper.” The bartender lowered his voice. “You flash that kind of money around and you’re liable to get stabbed in an alleyway, friend.”
“Keep the change, mate.” Dustin said. “I’m about ta be an adventurer and this won’t be shit then.”
“Thank you.” The barkeep said and slid two beers down to Dustin.
“Is the barkeep you, Mark?” Greg asked, looking up at the ceiling.
NOPE. PREPROGRAMMED NPC.
Troy grabbed one of the beers and sniffed it cautiously. Smelt normal. He took a tentative sip. It was thick and meaty, like drinking a loaf of bread.
“Drinking contest?” Dustin asked.
Troy narrowed his eyes. “You want to have a drinking contest with a Rhox?”
“Yeah!” Dustin said. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his tail started wagging.
“I’d be down for that.” Greg slid a gold piece to the barkeep. “Keep ‘em coming.”
Jeremiah wandered over and slid a gold piece to the bartender too. “Count me in.”
“Drake, Drew?” Dustin asked.
NO REAL NAMES
“Sorry. Uh…” Dustin paused.
“Rashid.” Drew prompted.
“Sulpu.” The kobold supplied.
“Right. Rashid and Sulpu, joining in?”
“Nope.” Rashid flipped his knife. ”My constitution isn’t high enough.”
“Same.” Sulpu shrugged.
Dustin turned to Lancer. “Shasta?”
“Hasta. And no, I wish to remain clear headed. Drinking before any task is foolhardy.” Lancer crossed his arms.
“Alright, so how do we do this?” Dustin asked.
LIKE THE OTHERS SAID, THIS IS A CON SAVE. IF YOU FAIL THREE TIMES, YOU LOSE. EACH FAILURE RAISES THE DC. THE GAME WILL ROLL IT AUTMATICALLY, SO DON’T WORRY ABOUT DICE.
“Wait, shouldn’t we ask him for some rumors or information first?” Troy said.
“He’s a barkeep at the edge of the city. How would he even know anything?” Drew asked.
“This caravanserai was built at a crossroads just outside the main gates of the city.” Lancer said. “Many adventurers pass through here. He might have overheard something.”
“I may have indeed, young sir.” The barkeep turned his attention to Troy after handing out beers to the party. “What did you want to know?”
"Uhh... Uhhh..." Troy stammers. "Uhhh... I don't know. How about... Uhh..."
Suddenly the realization that he doesn't know anything at all brought him to a halt. There were so many questions that he didn't even know a good one to start with. He didn’t even know what quest he would get if they were all random!
“What quests are likely to be handed out at by the Golden Caliph?” Lancer interjected.
“Probably a quest to retrieve one of the 9 artifacts of the Old Caliphate.” The barkeep said, washing and drying mugs. “There might be others, like locating lost cities or destroying enemies of the state, like the Crimson Corsairs.”
“Oh.” Troy said. “Do you have a list of the 9 artifacts?”
“Not on hand, but I’d wait to do research on them until after you get assigned one.” The barkeep smiled. “Who knows? You might be tasked with something else.”
“Oh, killing corsairs sounds fun!” Dustin bounced in his seat.
“How much do they pay for that?” Jeremiah asked.
“Depends on the bounty.” The barkeep replied. “Ten thousand gold for the Admiral of the Crimson Fleet.”
"Perfect!" Dustin said. "Nothing my twin axes won't love tearing apart. Point the way!"
“Not now, idiot!” Drew hissed. “We still have to register.”
“If they do assign us the corsairs, there are two land-based hideouts we could raid.” Lancer spoke. “There’s a sea cave in a hidden cove to the south. There’s an oasis we can stop by if we travel there. Then I heard they have a guild in Gurudia. It’s a trek through the Savannah to get there, but we can rest in Barodu. There’s a decent bar there…and…we…
Everyone in the party was staring at Lancer. Troy had wondered what his strangely intimate responses during the game meant. He thought he understood what it was.
“Have you played this before?” Troy asked.
THIS IS MY HOMEBREW WORLD. YOU GUYS ARE THE FIRST TO PLAY IN IT. HOW THE HELL DID YOU KNOW ANY OF THAT?
Even Mark sounded flabbergasted.
“Is…is this your world, Lancer?” Troy whispered.
The Lion man scratched his mane and ordered a beer.