The armour worn by the approaching men wasn’t exactly Roman legionary level, but not far off.“I think someone’s coming.” No one heard me, even though I said it quite loud. No surprise. I turned around and cupped my hands around my mouth. “Oi! Company.” I jerked a thumb towards the trees behind me.Having got their attention, the others all swarmed towards me. And then past me.As they all rushed to see who was coming, I noticed how many of the girls were dressed in skimpy outfits. Possibly a strange time to be checking out the ladies, what with potential murderers about to hack us all to death, but everyone deserves a last meal. The pretty, dark-haired girl who helped me earlier wore a particularly cute silky number. She hurried past, taking great care not to look in my direction.The last of the stragglers was a black guy who really stood out from the crowd. He had an untidy afro, teeth that didn’t seem to fit in his mouth, and he was wearing a onesie decorated with characters fr
Some people had sunk to their knees, others were in tears. The soldiers, who acted like this was just another day at the office, quickly got everyone up, barking orders at those still in a daze to snap them out of it.“We have to move,” called out Captain Grayson. “The corpse will attract scavengers. We don’t want to be here when that happens.”Slowly the shock wore off, and we formed a vague line. With the soldiers on either side of us, we set off through the trees.Nobody said anything as we all concentrated on working our way in between the densely populated trees, keeping an eye open for further attacks. Without shoes it took all your attention to avoid stepping on something painful. Ohs and ahs and shits rang out as people hopped around clutching their feet. Met by shushing from those fearful of drawing the attention of more monsters.I was too excited to be scared. If this really was a game, would you have to collect experience points to level up?Perhaps we’d be able to gai
“Any questions?”For the next few minutes, Grayson fielded a barrage of different questions.“Is there a way for us to go home?”“Not right now. But that’s not to say there’s isn’t a way that hasn’t been found yet. You may be the one who discovers it.”“You said there were others before us. Where are they? Can we talk to them?”“They’ve all moved on, mostly to one of the big cities. If you meet one of them, I’m sure they’ll be happy to talk to you.”“Is this a game?”“No. I assure you this is not a game.”“Can we die?”“Yes.”“If we die, can we come back to life?”Grayson pulled a face. “Well, there are healers who can treat severe injuries, but once you’re dead, you’re dead, as far as I know.”“Are you sure this isn’t a game?”“I’m very sure.”“Does magic exist here?”“Yes.” This sent a buzz around the room as people got excited. “But it’s very rare, and people who can actually put it to good use are even rarer. Most blow off their own hands the first time they try it.”
Outside, the road, more a dusty track, led in only one direction. Buildings ahead of us looked all the same. Wooden shacks of one storey. Noise and smells drifted towards us as we approached. It was hard to identify either.“My name’s Claire, by the way,” said the girl with the big nose. “This is Flossie.”I turned to look at the plump red-head. “Really?”“Oh ah, not really,” she said in the broadest Brummie accent I’d ever heard. “Actually, it’s Victoria, but everybody’s always called me that since I were a babby.”“I’m Colin, and this is Maurice.”“Hello, ladies.” Maurice smiled inanely.I looked over to our fifth member, who was walking a few steps behind us with his hands behind his back and a tremendous interest in the sky. “What about you? Got a name?”“Dudley Fenderson III.” The voice that came out of his mouth was so posh, it sounded like the sort of voice you put on to mock posh people. He was tall, had a receding hairline even though he couldn’t be more than nineteen o
We wandered around a bit more. There was a place with animal skins hanging outside, like animal shaped rugs but with a strange yellow liquid dripping off them. The stink made me want to gag.A man with oily black hair stood over a table set up outside the shop, cutting large skins with oversized scissors. Through the doorway I could see two girls carrying piles of skins from one place to another.I guessed this guy turned skins into leather. Maybe he also turned them into clothing.A sign leaning against the table had drawings of what looked like various animals — rabbits, pigs, dogs — with a number next to them. At least they used the same numbers as us, although the rest of their writing was gobbledegook to my eyes.Either the numbers were the price you paid for each to type of material, or it was how much they paid you for bringing them skins you hunted. I considered the latter to be more likely, especially in a place like this that was basically a starter town.In RPGs you alw
When we returned to the shed, we were shown through a side door into a courtyard. Captain Grayson handed each person a small tin box with a piece of flint inside. He demonstrated how to produce a spark by striking the side of the box.Next, we each received a metal dish of cold stew and were pointed over to where four small fires, unlit, had been set up for us.Suffice to say, we spent the next hour or so trying to start a fire while our stew slowly transformed into lumpy jelly. The tough part was getting the spark to catch, the larger pieces of wood adamantly refusing to have anything to do with flames of any kind. Luckily, we had all watched dozens of pseudo-documentaries where celebrities pretended to rough it in the wild.We needed kindling of some kind, and Flossie solved the problem by pulling loose threads off her ‘new’ top and screwing them up into a bundle. Eventually we got the fire going, well after all the other groups had already started eating their hot stew.The dish
“Hi, I’m Jenny.” She said it to me, but quickly moved on to look at everyone else. “I was wondering if I could join your group.”The others awkwardly introduced themselves, at the end of which she turned back to me, obviously expecting me to do the same. I should make clear at this point, despite my general social ineptitude, there are two types of people I have no problems talking to. The first are those even more socially awkward than me (so, everyone sitting around the fire) and the other is pretty girls.What? How can this be? Simple, really. I have absolutely no illusions about my chances, so there’s no pressure to impress or come off cool.I can only go by my own experiences, but I’ve always found that if a pretty girl talks to me it’s because she wants something. If she flirts with me, it’s something she definitely has no right to ask for, and she knows it.I can’t be bothered with people who are happy to use others like that. In fact, when it comes to pretty girls, I have a
“What I said about killing to survive is true. I know it’s not what anyone of us wants to do, but pretending we can get through this by being decent, reasonable people isn’t going to work.”They all looked at me like I was telling them they had to kill puppies and strangle kittens. Which I was.“If we come up against anything like that ogre, we’re dead. We can run away, but eventually we’re going to have to fight, or starve to death. We have to learn how to kill. None of us is particularly strong or even sporty, which means we have to use a different approach.”“What approach?” said Claire. None of them seemed to have any idea what I was talking about.“We have to be ruthless. And mean. Monsters aren’t going to want to talk things over and find a compromise. There won’t be any trade negotiations on Naboo.”Flossie raised her hand. “Ah don’t know what you’re talking about. What the fook is a Naboo?”“You’ve never seen the Phantom Menace?” said Maurice. “I’m so jealous. Wish I coul