Life After the Apocalypse

New Crew
>>>Yesterday. Yesterday was May 3rd. Yesterday was the day that everything changed. Yesterday was when you suddenly found yourself transported into a different world. Like waking up from a daydream, you found yourself in unfamiliar surroundings.. and, more disturbingly, in a body that was not your own! You weren't alone, either. Surrounding you were hundreds, if not thousands of others in the same state of sudden confusion, shock and denial.
>>>It didn't take long for people to realize that they'd somehow ended up in a place that very much resembled the MMO game they'd been playing, embodied in the fantasy characters they'd been logged in as. Chaos and confusion reigned for the first few hours and most 'people' sought shelter in the Inns and Taverns trying to make sense of the madness. Those in Guilds retreated into their Guild Halls, everyone else mostly sought out groups to commiserate with about what happened. Humanity, such as it was now that it included Elves, Dwarves, beast-folk and other stranger things, were still social creatures and clustered together for support if for no other reason.
>>>Rumor spread that others had arrived from outside the city. Other people from Earth, trapped the same way everyone else had been, had made their way in from the surrounding areas outside the city with wild tales of the dangers in the zones outside of Mound City. The utter lack of ready distractions or easily available entertainment in this new world, coupled with basic curiosity, made those tales spread like wildfire. Pretty soon, a sizeable contingent of people just hung out near the city gates just to be the first ones to hear the tales from the proverbial source as new people arrived.
>>>Once the sun had set, the new arrivals had stopped coming even though torchlight vigils were held just in case. Unlike the world that everyone had left behind, when the sun set the darkness was like a stygian blanket even though the stars filled the sky in numbers beyond dreaming.
>>>The next morning brought a flurry of revelations and discoveries for both good and ill... It hadn't taken long to discover that food and drink were tasteless, despite how good they looked. Someone had found out how to access the game's User Interface and that it functioned exactly the same way it did when Elder Tales was a game, including access to the TeleChat & Friend List function. While most of the 'game elements' of this world functioned "normally", some did not... The Transport Gates that enabled 'fast travel' between Player Cities, like Mound City, were not operational. One of the most shocking discoveries was when a group of people who didn't arrive already inside Mound City appeared at the Cathedral all claiming to have died during an ambush by game monsters and been revived!
>>>Again finding little to do in the City, a sizeable crowd had assembled at the City Gates waiting for others to arrive. Small groups had straggled in with similar harrowing tales of hostile monsters in the surrounding area. This is where we find our crew hanging out. A crew that came together from being forced to share a table at a crowded Tavern and finding a bit of commonality from all being very new to the game. Banding together just made sense.
>>>A clamor arise as a new group of people had been spotted across the broken terrain between the City Gates and the ruins of the old city. Someone had started calling it the Dead Zone and the name just sort of stuck. It seemed to be a sizeable group. At least ten people. Others around you began hooting and yelling encouragements as the group followed the trail towards the Gate...then fell into hushed shock.

---

MOUND CITY
City Zone | Eusa Server
Monsters: No | PvP: No | Skill Use: Yes
Entry Restriction: none

>>>Hustling across the barren area between the ruins of the old city and the city walls, the Party covered about half the distance before they heard and felt a huge explosion right off the side of their path. The blast knocked everyone but Grace off their feet and scattered them around like chaff in the wind.

>>>"What was THAT?!?" Guy asked as he picked himself up off the ground and knelt beside Tina, covering her as she roused groggily from the blast. "I'm down about 30 HP. That was some hit!"

>>> Still on the ground, BradL33 pushed himself up. "Head still ringing... I'll start a Party Heal. Crap! The Party's split, I can't get everyone..." There had been too many Adventurers amongst them to fit into one Party, capped at 6 Adventurers by the game's design, so they had to split into 2 Parties... BradL33's magic could only affect the Party he'd been assigned to!


>>>"RUN, LITTLE PIGLETS!" a menacing voice called through the fading smoke of the explosion. "RUN FER YER LIVES! HAR! HAR!"

>>>"Knock it off with the Pirate-speak, Pete. God, that's annoying..." Alongside the Pirate, three others appeared out of the smoke including the Elf Archer. "They're all below Level 20 except one... Not much challenge and probably no good gear either. Let's see how many of 'em make to the Zone marker." She nocked an arrow into her bow, and said coldly "Better run..."

Grace activates her Nimble Boots. Knowing this is a ‘free action,’ Grace could easily outrace the party, making anyone but her the target.

If she were to run toward the marker—"Tanks! Protect her!" she shouts as she darts toward Tina, offering her hand if she’s not already up. "Don’t give these murder hobos the satisfaction."

She makes sure none of her own are directly behind her before she activates her boots’ other effect: Thorny Trail.

In a flash, Raquel's katana is in her hands. She grips it in a defensive guard as she looks at the other players with narrowed eyes. "I don't like bullies," she says icily. She's ready to fight if the rest of the group plans on doing so, or defend the others as they retreat.

As Tina is being attended to by Guy on the other side, Clara also moves towards Isbjorn, ready to protect the sorcerer from any attacks that may come their way. She squints her eyes as smoke obscures her vision. But then... the smoke would also make it more difficult for that elven archer to aim, would it?

"You're not the only one who can play with explosives!" The pirate cat shouts as she activates her new skill, "Powder Keg", and launches gunpowder towards the clearing between the enemies and the party.

As the hush near the gate spread, everyone stunned at the scene appearing out in the Dead Zone, a dwarf (if you could call him that) started slowly walking out from the crowd, watching the group run from the PvP attackers. Obviously the player had maxed out the slider on both height and muscle build because this dwarf was easily over 6 feet tall and a mountain of muscle wrapped in plate armor. In the real world, this monster would be in a WWE cage match against the world champion.

Fire engine red hair and beard topped the mass of metal, but quickly disappeared as a helmet appeared, the player must have activated the Show Helmet feature from the menu.

"Fortress Stance" he said quietly.

Then in a ever increasing volume as his real rage grew, "Stupid greefers. This was bull s*** before, but now. GOD D*** COWARDS!!!"

The dwarf roars and sprints out onto the open field, shield and sword drawn, all grey tutorial gear but the dwarf does not seem to care. As he runs, a tirade of every trash talking insult anyone had ever heard in a game was levied against those attacking the incoming group. His taunt ability might not work in PvP, but Max knew every insult this game had and he threw them all out at those hunting the incoming group. His goal only to buy those running in time to make it.

As he sees the massive Dwarf move toward the fray. A huge black Wolf Fang also detaches from the crowd and moves forward to stand beside the Dwarf. He draws his epee and use his enemy scouting skill to get a good judge of this group and its leader. "I am with you good sir." he looks over at the human female and says " I also do not like bullies."

A smaller dwarf works his way much more cautiously (and apologetically) free from the crowd at the gate. From every inch of free space on the sash and belt tied about his robes dangle odd carvings and totems that swirl and sway about him on their cords as he turns this way and that through the tummult.

He does not charge ahead with the others but moves forward slowly trying to get a clear view of what is occurring ahead.

Frowning into the billowing dust, he pulls the caricature of a hawk free from where it hangs from a cord from behind his right shoulder--a fine and delicate carving. With a shout, he hurls it into the air. Caught by the rising wind, it circles higher and higher, as if it has truly taken flight.

Atalanta shrugs, this is something that felt familiar to them. The accent was different, but this felt a lot like training with 'Dad'. There wouldn't be a 'right response' either way.

"You're outnumbered. Doubt you could take all of us before we dropped you."

>>>He had woken up this morning. Things had not gotten better.

>>>The world was still dizzyingly large. His breakfast of salted gruel that had looked like eggs barely slaked his appetite, what of it he had been able to keep down. He could barely keep his feet, feeling like a disproportioned toddler. At 1.2 meters, he guessed he probably clocked in at over seventy kilos. It wasn't fair. He was no gym rat, but he made a point not to eat like an American now that he had moved. He did HEMA once or twice a month, all for nothing.

>>>He sprawled outside the wall of the settlement. The zone line seemed fuzzy. Part of him wanted to just shove his head out into agro range and get this nightmare over with.

>>>Legs propped on the ivy-choked, crumbling building, he looked up, watching the clouds drift by. It felt like hours, but it could only have been five minutes. Impatient, he reached up above him, recoiling for a moment at the sight of the meaty mitts that barely qualified as fingers, before pulling up his UI. He grasped feebly at the faded logout button. He pressed it, turned it, plucked at it, tried to cajole it like a physical object that might have been stuck, but it hung, tantalizing, taunting, in his view. And above it was a huge banner that had seemed funny when he had been nineteen and clinically depressed.

"Tabby Fatts"

Tabby Fatt had been taken.

>>>He tried to call up a text chat function, to no avail. He bit his lip, then looked around, trying to make sure he wasn't being watched, before looking back up to the sky, and saying, aloud, "Slash logout?"

"Slash... quit?"

"Slash stuck?"

"Slash uninstall?"

"Slash GM?"

"Fuck..!"
>>>He kicked the wall from his recline, letting out an unpleasant gasp as the awkward spasm twisted his ankle. He rose, staggering, to his feet, screaming at the sky. "FUCK YOU! FUCK OFF!"

>>>What followed did not make a good first impression. At the top of his lungs, he bellowed every vulgarity and epithet, to the very bottom of his repertoire. Slurs that he knew from generations of decent upbringing should never leave his lips, that made his cheeks burn red at the mere thought of speaking aloud.

>>>"THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID THAT IN /SHOUT, YOU'D BETTER FUCKING COME FUCKING BAN ME YOU FUCKS! ....JESUS CHRIST!!!" The last escaped him involuntarily as he heard the sound of a genuine explosion.

>>>He emerged from a reflexive cringe, prying his arms away from his face as he looked in the direction of the sound. His jaw partly agape, his tail frizzed out to three times its normal volume, the shock stripped him down to his deepest impulse and rawest instinct. And in that moment, he stumbled forwards into destiny, crashing through the undergrowth towards the sound, to stumble onto a battlefield...

Day 2

Wheeler scrawled at the top of a fresh sheet of paper, scratching his chin. To his left was a small stack of papers, each filled with a crowded, tiny print. He'd had the fortune of coming to this new world in relative safety, with enough disposable income that he could afford to take a little time and gain his bearings. So, that was what he'd busied himself with. Most of the Guilds were holed up in their strongholds, consolidating power before deciding what to do. He'd written down their names, along with their specialties and what he could dig up about their membership -- laying down the foundations for later. Each of them had the potential to be a power bloc in the days to come, just by virtue of their relative cohesion and resources. Then there were his observations on the markets, just casual observations on prices and the like so far; most players of any means didn't bother with Lander stalls after all, but if shortages were going to be a thing now that the this world was passably 'real', that was going to lead to market fluctuations pretty quickly. Finally, he had a single sheet of paper with what he considered the most promising bit of data -- information gleaned from the people who'd returned from the Cathedral. Information on the outlying regions, information on who was still out there, who'd be making their way to Mound City as they got their bearings. Some of it he'd gotten directly as a volunteer, helping people who were shocked to still be alive, but Wheeler had been quick to realize that the new reality of the situation meant that the Landers themselves were useful sources of information.

Tapping his quill, Wheeler heaved a sigh. He'd spent yesterday running around like a mad man, and this was all he had to show for it. It was an okay start, he felt like he had a firmer grasp on reality than most of those people who were just waiting for a message from a Game Master to explain what was happening, at least. The problem was that there were limits to what he could accomplish as an independent actor; every moment spent on one subject was spent away from another. Worse still, if he wanted to actually develope his skills, he'd have to leave the city behind -- and soloing as a Huckster was a lousy experience before it came with a dose of real pain. Resting his head back against the wall he'd been using to shield his papers from the wind, he looked up at the blue sky.

"Don't suppose you have any advice?" he asked no one with a smirk, tapping the diamond-shaped eye marking in the center of his forehead, tracing his thumb down along his cheek where the lines came down from his eyes before crawling along the bottom of his jaw before meeting at an upward point along his chin. Further inert markings snuck out from along the collar of his shirt, only to reveal themselves again along the meridians of his arms where he'd rolled up his sleeves to the elbow. They were dark, black lines with no mana flowing through them, yet. No response came, and so he snorted out a sharp breath through his nose and languidly shrugged.

Then, something exploded.

Wheeler scrambled to grab up his papers, looking around and shoving them into his inventory, only barely seeing the meat wall that was Maximum Carnage pushing through the crowd of gawkers out by the front gate, others stirring in response to his umbrage.

"...Looks like Pirate Pete's gank squad intercepted a pack of returners." he said, rolling his eyes. Still, as he hopped down some of the tumbled stones to the side of the gate. It was a big group, coming from a low-level zone, and no one in his notes had mentioned a cat pirate or that big scythe, so they probably weren't in the know about the Cathedral still functioning. Which was probably half the fun for the archer. "Brophy, you want an Attack Buff? Might help you bridge the level gap on these guys."

"Buff I am already pretty buff if you hadn't noticed. I will take help if you don't mind." He gives a smile as he salutes with his epee.

He glanced back and forth between the gate and the pursuit. He was too far out to con either side, but judging by how sparkly everyone's gear looked from this distance, things were looking a little grim for the ambushees. A pit of cold rage gathered in his throat as his lip curled into a snarl. Today, on the worst day of all of their lives, someone decided PvP was the answer.

He heard a second explosion behind him. It was a long way across that field, with ranged DPS on you. And who knew if they had any CC hiding in the bushes.

His tail swayed as he glanced back at the gate, seeing the nervous energy of the crowd that had gathered. He did some mental math. Scaling wasn't as fierce in Elder Tales as it was in other games. Level did you many favors, but unlike some other MMOs, it was difficult to become truly immortal on the back of statistics. There was a threshold of HP, of Mana, of Crowd Control that even the tankiest monk would struggle to overcome.

And here, in this shared traumatic moment, emotions were fragile. People were at a knife's edge. They could be pushed in all kinds of directions with just a little encouragement.

"Hey!" he shouted to the assembled crowd, one stout hand thrust out towards the battle, as if his extended claw would pop the bubble of indecision around them. "It's those gankers! LET'S FUCK 'EM UP!"

"It'd be hard not to notice." Wheeler said back with a bit of a smile, slapping his right hand to the leather box strapped to his hip, flipping the lid back to draw his deck from the holster-like deckbox he carried. Wordlessly, he sent out party invites to the informal group that were rushing to intercept the PK Krew, being able to track everyone's status was kind of crucial for a Support Caster like him.

"You've got twelve seconds after your Opening Gambit, if you can spike down a ranged DPS that'd be best." he said, voice steady, eyeing the formations as he ran. Despite the bravado of the cat-monk, Wheeler didn't like their odds against this gang. As an initially Japanese title, the level scaling wasn't as bad as most western developed games, but they still had twice as many resources, options, and better gear on top of that. The Welcoming Committee just needed to buy some time, open the path for the new guys to run to the safety of the gate ... which meant they could ignore enemy heals, and the melee tanks weren't likely to get a one-shot kill. Melee DPS could be outrun, maybe, but that Archer and any Sorcerer support were going to harry them the whole way back.

Of course, Wheeler had no intention of dying himself trying to play the savior, but that wasn't a card he had any intention of broadcasting before he had to play it.

While appreciating Atalanta's spirit, Clara's still cautious. "Stay alert! If they're attacking us in broad daylight while outnumbered, they must have something up their sleeve. We don't know who they may be allied with inside the city." 

She glances over her shoulder and catches sight of the newcomers emerging from the city gate. The flurry of curses blasting from some of them almost stuns her into silence. Are they here to help?

Raquel looks over at the party of other adventurers rushing to their defense. They are an eclectic bunch, to be sure, but she's grateful for their assistance. She looks back at the aggressive players, waiting to see how they will respond.

>>>After the initial assault, the Party rallied together and scrambled to their feet. The lack of 'battle music' accompanying the attack by the other Adventurers was oddly jarring in it's silence. Strange how quickly the unusual becomes the usual...

>>> "Heartbeat Healing!" BradL33 launched immediately into casting the Druid's basic regenerative magic. "Fall back but don't leave anybody behind. They've got range on us. They'll burn us down before we can reach them... Head for the Zone marker." As much as he willed them not to, tears welled up in his boyish eyes. Mainly out of anger and frustration but also at the idea that some of the friends he'd made might not make it. It wasn't fair...

>>>"I'd trade this big mace for a right proper shield about now..." Guy said to Grace as he helped Tina to her feet. "I've got her. You go see if anyone else needs a hand."

>>>A second explosion clouded the air with the sharp tang of gunpowder. This one hurled towards the ambushers by the Party's own Pirate, Calamity. The haze of phantom gunpowder floated in the air as Calamity realized that the blast the took the Party off their feet was exactly the same Ability as she'd used...only boosted by whatever means the ambusher's Pirate had used.
>>>Isbjorn and Arga, who'd been walking together before the blast, roused to their feet. Unsure what exactly to do, moved towards the others while looking back at their attackers.

>>>Arga's tattoos glowed sharply, hotly orange as his anger flared. "Shit! Where's Piphany?" he cast his eyes around looking for the little goth Assassin. "Did they...? Is she...?" the rest of the sentence choked in his throat.

>>>As much as Arga wanted to strike out at the ambushers, it was Tina who threw the first punch. "Thorn Bind Hostage!"
>>>The Ambushers were higher level than the Party. People like that don't enjoy fair fights. Enchanters were pretty much the worst class in a lot of ways but at least the Enchanters signature spell might buy some of them a chance to run by entangling the archer.

>>>"Oh, hun, no...just no..." the night black Catfolk Sorcerer waved her staff with a flourish. "Dispel..." As she spoke her words, the glowing vines growing around Serena, the ambusher's Archer and probable leader, withered and faded away.

>>>"Er, Seren-er..." he started to hesitantly get the attention of the archer with his Pirate accent but self corrected after she shot him the side eye as she aimed her bow. "Looks like we might've kicked over the anthill." The portly Pirate noted.

>>>"So? They're ants. Low-level Ants. Just step on 'em." Serena paused her aim to scan down the Adventurers coming from the Gates in the distance. It aggravated her to have turned her attention away from her mark, the Enchanter in the purple cloak, and possibly miss her chance to strike. "Tabitha, VerminTude. Help Pete handle the adds. I'm busy hunting wabbits."

>>>VerminTude sighed heavily, as if very put out. "I didn't agree to shooting fish in a barrel, Serena. I thought we were going hunting...not this..." He stood up from the rubble he'd been sitting cross-legged on and looked at the scene, really looked at it, for the first time. "Ants, huh? It's looking a little 'Bugs Life-y' to me down there..."


>>>"We'll just have to teach those ants a lesson then..." Tabitha danced around a little before leveling her staff at the small bands of Adventurers making their way from the Gates. "Grand Serpentine Lightning!!" she tittered gleefully as powerful bolts of magical lightning flew across the battlefield.

>>>"Did you even watch the movie, Tabs?" he facepalmed, his voice carrying an audible tiredness.

---

>>>The mood of the crowd had shifted as soon as the band of 'returners' was ambushed by PK-ers. Everyone kind of knew something like this might happen eventually...but they didn't think it would be like a public execution. The excitement of seeing people, new people, making it to safety and possibly hearing new details about the zones outside the City held the promise of taking people's minds off the here & now. To see that excitement turn to horror soured the mood of the crowd in an instant.
>>>Some had immediately jumped into action and started marching to the defense of the 'returners'. Mostly lower-level Adventurers lept into action. Peeling away from the gasping crowds, they moved at a hustle down the cleared path towards the 'returners' as the huddled into a defensive position.
>>>At the head of the pack, Brophy and Maximum Carnage led the charge. Behind them began peeling off from the crowd a phalanx of other low-level Adventurers. Admittedly, the hype behind Elder Tales before the players all landed here had drawn in a huge number of people new to the game so there were a disproportionate number of low level players.
>>>Brophy, Maximum and their ad hoc Party reached the 'returners' just as bolts of lightning rained down into the Adventurers to their rear. The lightning chained from Adventurer to Adventurer, tearing through them like a lawnmower through grass, dropping about half to their knees and others just exploded into a kaleidoscopic burst of rainbow-hued light.
>>>The effect could be considered beautiful, if it wasn't the result of about a half-dozen people being outright killed. Those Adventurers that had revived in the Cathedral had told stories about how monsters and even Adventurers disappeared in a flash of light at the moment of death. Seeing it first-hand was jarring.
>>>It was at that moment that both the sight of the artillery spell vaporizing a handful of people and the clarion call of a rotund Catfolk that galvanized the crowd into action...

Grace is fighting tears herself—fearing that Piphany shared the fate of those who were exterminated like insects.

"Those aren’t bugs—they’re people! And you murdered them. And… for what?"

She’s not sure which way to sprint. The border seems the smarter direction, except that she can’t outrun lightning. Bravery can only work if—

"—you can save us!" she calls out to the cat who watched Bug’s Life. "You ain’t done nothing wrong, and you know what just happened ain’t right!"

Raquel's heart drops as she sees the other people getting vaporized. Again, she wonders what happens when you die in this game world. Do you die in real life? Did she just witness a mass murder? Her knuckles turn white as she grips the hilt of her katana, her arms starting to shake.

"That's... that's messed up," she manages to say, weakly.

Wheeler's face was hidden in shadow as the surge of lightning dropped from the sky, the brilliant light leaving him in silhouette as he drew his initial hand from the deck. Sure enough, one pair, fours in Diamond and Heart suit were looking back at him. With the prismatic aurora of death rising up behind him, it became clear that the smile had fallen off of his face ... but what replaced it wasn't fear. No, his lips were a tight line of disgust.

"Hey, Tabby!" he called, "Do you know how small the death penalty is at our level? How much mana do you have?" he narrowed his eyes slightly, "What happens when you respawn in a city full of pissed off lowbies?"

He could almost applaud her audacity, really. She'd perfectly made herself into exactly the kind of villain this narrative needed - signaled to the community that if they let this stand there'd be no end to it. This is what happens when people suddenly find themselves on the other end of a power dynamic; they don't have the instincts of the habitually cruel, and they never think things through.

Of course, he was banking on the fact that the newbies of Mound City's anger would outweigh the shock of what had just happened. He wasn't sure he had that much faith in people, but this was an American geo-server. People had been conditioned pretty strongly against terrorism, a Goonswarm situation could easily occur here. He just wished he had someone back at the Cathedral to crack the whip instead of hoping it came about organically.

"CHRIST!" He was not a religious man by a long stretch, but he was Midwestern, and that was close enough to inject the Lord into his reflexive lexicon of profanity. For the second time that day, he almost forcibly had to pry his own arms off his body, where they had contorted to reflexively shield him. He had taken refuge among the crowd, in no condition physically or emotionally to lead them on. He had just hoped to throw a molotov and slink back into town once the excitement started, but the sudden violence put him in a state of shock.

He watched, fright written on his face, as he watched the shimmering, opalescent particles float into the air, dissolving into light, as a few scant coins and items thumped to the ground. All his dark rumination about destructive teleportation, simulation theory, and emergent intelligence condensed in his mind until his consciousness was a shimmering singularity of existential terror.

And, as with the explosion, where his rational mind encouraged him to retreat to the safety of town, to trust in the guardians, his reflex, his deepest gut instinct, had him standing his ground.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-" he whispered under his breath as an almost violently shaking hand scrolled through a paltry list of abilities. His voice took on a hysterically panicked singsong lilt, as he lamented, "I doooon't know how to play this claaaass...!"

His brows subtly shifted from desperation to despair as he reviewed his options. Something to close the distance? Go on the offensive? Something to juke? Something to increase his resistance? Something to put out some damage? Turn invisible? Something? Anything?

What had he been thinking when he had made this character?

Oh yeah, he remembered. "I'm not going to ever play this game again."

As his hand hovered over the hotbar with the best of several terrible options, he was shaken out of his reverie by the sound of his name crashing like a brick through his glassy concentration.
He cringed as he internalized that recognition. It wasn't his name. His... handle? Nom de guerre?

He turned around to the Huckster who seemed to be shouting him down, not quite parsing his actual words, throwing his arms up in a 'what the hell, man?' shrug, giving him a look of confused incredulity, before he realized the vitriol was being projected past him, out onto the field...