Heroes of Veritas: Bardic Inspiration (Book 2)

Chapter Ten: Welcome to the Game

Elise stared at Astredian for a moment, uncomprehending, before the words finally sank in and her eyes grew wide.

“What?” she asked stupidly, her mouth growing dry.

“Er, I...I don’t usually hook up at these fan events.” the paladin sputtered, looking away from her nervously.

“Fan...events…?” Elise said, feeling like her soul was leaving her body for a second time as the knowledge of what was happening ran cold through her veins. “Oh god. You’re Ian, aren’t you?”

Elise scrambled away from him, pulling a sheet up to her neck, “Oh no, no… Nope! This isn’t happening.”

Ian looked at her again, a look of mild confusion on his face. Then as he really focused in on her, he seemed to recognize her.

“Wait...Are you Elise? Ellie? The crafting slave?” Ian said with a bright smile, which faded instantly when he realized he’s just called her a crafting slave. “I didn’t mean that…Uhm, you’re a ranger, right?”

“NOPE!” Ellie shouted, jumping out of the bed, trying to take the protective sheet with her. She abandoned it when it snapped tight, as it was stuck under Ian, who was still sitting on the bed. She ran to the closet and shut the door behind her, leaving the dumbfounded gamer alone in his confusion.

Panting, Elise leaned against the closet door as the panic attack overtook her. She trembled, and bit down on the knuckles of her left fist as she tried to calm her rapidly thudding heart. Her chest grew painfully tight as her mind whizzed through the various outcomes of this nightmare scenario. This was bad; not just bad for her, but bad for the whole guild - though she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t the personal bad that was overwhelming her at the moment. If Ian was here...then Astredian was gone, right? 

Ian stood up and went to the closet door. He raised a fist to knock, but lowered his hand to his side when he heard a painful sob come from the other side of the door. He felt a twinge in his chest, the guilt that had been swirling in the pit of his stomach rising up to settle there instead.

“I...I don’t know what to say…” He said quietly, leaning his forehead against the door. “I’m so sorry. Can we talk about this? I know it sounds like the worst kind of excuse, but I really don’t remember what happened…” 

When there was no response, he backed away and took a look around the room. It was strange; even for a themed hotel, it looked surprisingly like a game environment. He went over to a vanity, which was strewn with a variety of bottles, and a few trinkets. The place looked far too lived in for a hotel. Was this part of the ‘experience’ the event planners were trying to put on?

After a few minutes, the closet door opened and a pale, red eyed Elise emerged in what looked like the most screen accurate cosplay he’d ever seen - though her outfit was not a ranger outfit. She looked like one of the specialized cross classes that was just released with the new expansion; a troubadour.

“Wow.” Ian said, having a hard time disguising his excitement, though he knew better than to come closer to her. “You did an amazing job on that costume. Have you even finished all the troubadour quest lines yet?”

Elise laughed, snorted a little, and then wiped at her eyes as she said, “It’s not a costume, bud.”

She was obviously still upset, but he had no idea what to make of that statement.

“Haha, sure… Are you a larper too? I’m not one to judge.” he said, his smile fading when she looked at him and shook  her head.

“You need to put some clothes on, and I need coffee. Come downstairs when you’re ready. The kitchen is through the dining room on the left. I need to explain before the others wake up. We’re about to have a long ass day, and...and…” Elise hiccuped a little, her eyes refilling with tears as she tore her gaze away from him. “Excuse me. I’ll see you downstairs.”

She left quickly after that, and left Ian feeling just as confused as he had been when she was still hiding in the closet. So, he decided to start there. When he looked in the closet, he was surprised to find it full of costumes that seemed perfectly tailored for him - plus a few that looked like they belonged to the troubadour. The red ranger outfit on the mannequin at the back was definitely hers; it was the one he was accustomed to seeing her in back when she played, anyway. That’s right. Hadn’t she quit the guild? What was she doing here?

As he reached out to run a finger down a gleaming chestplate that bore the star symbol of the Goddess, Erestella. It was displayed on a much larger mannequin along with a full set of armor. When he flicked his nail against it, it rang out like metal - not the painted foam he’d been expecting. 

Though he hadn’t fully absorbed it yet, he was just starting to see the bare edges of the situation he was facing. Elise said her outfit wasn’t a costume...none of the clothes in this closet looked like costume pieces either, now that he was close enough to inspect them. As he went through the various doublets, breeches, and shirts he realized that the clothes were real silks, velvets, and linens. No cheap costume satin here. Then, when he opened a long, locker-like chest , he paused.

Inside the chest was a long sword in a worn scabbard, along with several other weapons, a shield, and a variety of pouches. He withdrew the blade from its scabbard, and touched a shaky fingertip to its edge. It sliced easily through the top layer of his callused skin, though it didn’t draw blood. He had barely put any pressure on it; it was just incredibly sharp.

“What the hell is happening…?”

He pulled on some clothes in a rush after that, not even paying attention to whether or not his clothing matched. When he exited the bedroom, he found himself inside a familiar study. Too familiar. He knew this space; he’d actually designed it himself - down to the slowly creaking dipping bird that sat on his desk. It was his office.

“Holy shit.” he muttered. “Am...am I in the game?” 

He hurried down the stairs, and into the main guild hall which was decorated in a less familiar fashion. Actually, it was better than he remembered it being, though this iteration of the guild hall was smaller than the one they’d just finished upgrading. Instead of being strewn with phallic statuary and random reward items that hapless guildies just dumped there because they had no space in their banks, this guild hall had a series of pedestals displaying their most important dungeon trophies set against one wall, a seating area around a fireplace, and a reception desk behind which hung a chalkboard calendar that displayed the week’s schedule of guild events and meetings.

The Dire Beaver logo was ever present; from the tapestries hanging on the walls to the rug in the entryway. Even the pillows on the chairs and sofas had Dire Beaver logos embroidered on them, though some of them were kind of wonky looking. He wasn’t sure beavers were supposed to have tongues like that, but at least the person who decorated the place was trying to make it work.

“Hell yes.” Ian said, grinning widely as he took the space in. This was...amazing. He pinched himself just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, flinched a little at the mild pain, and grinned even wider when the skin he’d pinched on his forearm turned red. He definitely wasn’t dreaming.

A few moments later, Ian burst into the kitchen from the dining room. There he found Elise, who was already sitting at a small table in the nook-like corner of the space with her hands over her face. She lowered them immediately on his arrival, obviously trying to look as if she’d gotten herself together and wasn’t still freaking out.

“So, uhm...welcome to Veritas.” she said, giving him a strained, sad smile.