Project Dawnfall

— CHAPTER ONE —

Welcome to Rosenburg

-Fritz-

Everything around me was sheer black, but not dark. It was the kind of blackness you get when the TV is on a blank screen. I stood on solid void, my body perfectly visible in the flat lighting.

Then a glowing grid of blue lines shot out from beneath my feet, mapping the contours of a landscape that extended far to the horizon in every direction. Geometric shapes rose from the plane. Towering blocks and spires surrounded me, assembling themselves into the crude skeleton of a narrow canyon.

Smaller grids crawled across their surfaces, sprouting the wireframe of structures and objects. It pulsed and shifted around me, details filling in with each flickering iteration. Cobblestones bubbled up from the ground and bricks snapped into place along the walls. Vine-like rods sprouted like trees, curling into the wrought iron of street lamps and benches, and molded into the walls as window frames.

I found myself standing on a narrow, winding street lined with worn buildings that leaned in over me. Chimneys, spires, and a distant clock tower peeked over the roofline.

For a moment, it stood perfectly still. Then, in an instant, color, texture, sound, and sensation exploded outward from my avatar. Thunder crashed, and the digital sky turned to true darkness. Rain pelted down, soaking through my clothes and plastering my hair to my head. Icy droplets ran down the back of my neck and under my collar.

"Ack!" My whole body shivered. There was a bridge underpass about a block up the street. It was the only decent cover I could see, so I sprinted for it, my shoes splashing through the rapidly forming puddles.

Once out of the downpour, I shook the water from my hair and wiped my face with a sleeve, falling against the wall and panting. My clothes were stuck to my body and geez the numbness in my fingertips felt disturbingly authentic. I had to give it to the devs - the simulated sensations were on point!

As I got my breath back, I finally had a moment to look over my body. To ease the transition into the game, players started off in recreations of their real bodies. Customization was available once inside the game proper, but for now, at least, I was still Fritz Carlton: a lanky dude in his late twenties with messy sandy hair and an easy smile.

"What a way to start things off." I sighed to myself, grinning as I wrung out the hem of the plain brown shirt they'd started me off with. I was definitely awake; I'll say that.

'Ding-a-ling-a-ling!'

A chime sounded, and a 2D text box popped into the air before me. A holographic, partially see-through thing. 'Quest Acquired: Welcome to Rosenburg. View log >'

I reached out and tapped on the log button. As insubstantial as it looked, it felt solid and sleek, and, at the touch, the window expanded and solidified into a glass tablet that hovered in the air. It - no, the whole HUD - was anchored to my chest, rotating with my body but letting me glance freely between the elements.

The log read: 'As you were travelling, an unexpected rainstorm forced you to search for shelter in the nearest town - Rosenburg. When you arrived, you found the streets quiet - the residents were deep in the safety of their homes and none answered you over the roar of the tempest. You had better find an inn.'

After a moment, the quest log faded back into a translucent display element.

It was a simple enough goal, but how was I supposed to find an inn? Where was the menu button? I'd literally just gone over the controls in the test dive.

Ah! There was a little button attached to the side of my health bar. Tapping that brought up the system menu on another glass panel. I quickly found the map screen and zoomed in. A pulsing marker indicated a building only a few blocks away. The map I moved to the side and let hang there for reference, then closed out the other menus.

That's when I noticed that, in the minute I'd been standing there, I had completely dried off. So the devs weren't completely sadistic throwing people into a monsoon, but I was going right back out there.

Taking a deep breath of that rain-fresh air and rolling my shoulders, I ran out from the underpass. Immediately, the roar of the storm enveloped me again, soaking clear to the bone as I dashed through the winding streets and swung around corners.

Rounding the final bend onto a roundabout intersection, I slid to a stop in front of the tavern. Warm yellow light spilled out of its bay windows, illuminating the glistening cobblestones and making the gutter streams shimmer as they flowed toward the drainage grates. Through the rain-streaked glass, I could make out a smattering of patrons hunched over tankards.

It was heaven.

I shouldered through the door and slammed it behind me, dulling the sounds of the sounds of the storm to a distant patter. I fell against the door with a sigh, feeling that sweet, sweet heat seep into my body. Water streamed from my clothes, pooling on the doormat.

As I caught my breath, I took in the atmosphere. The place had a run-down charm to it. Slightly crooked tables and chairs were scattered around the main room. Wrought iron lanterns holding magical flames dangled from the raw timber rafters, and a massive stone hearth on the far wall held a roaring fire whose crackling fought the rain tapping on the windows. Along the back wall was a long wooden bar backed by shelves upon shelves of gleaming bottles in all sorts of shapes and colors. Now that was a sight! What better way to start than with a flagon of cider? Oh, maybe with a dash of cinnamon!

I pushed off from the door and walked toward the bar, looking over the other patrons on the way. We had a pair of burly guys sitting on stools at the bar looking like they'd just clocked out from a shift at the mines. Out in the sea of empty tables, a trio of figures in soaked traveling cloaks huddled together with their whispers and such.

They were all minding their own business, not even reacting to me coming in. However, right behind the shady folks, staring back at me, was a kid. Red hair, tired blue eyes, I'd put him about sixteen - somewhere in the high-school range. He was in the same basic starter gear as me, and when I looked at him, a nameplate popped up over his head: 'Percival'.

"Howdy there!" I offered a wave.

"Hello." he replied flatly, then went back to eavesdropping on the mysterious strangers.

"What are they up to?" I asked.

"They're with the Resistance."

"No shit, Muse is playing here? Sweet! Didn't know this game had live concerts."

Percival fixed me with a blank stare. "What year is it?"

"Hey now, Muse is timeless! I'll have you know they released-"

"Alright, grandpa; beds are that way." He pointed to a staircase tucked between the fireplace and bar.

I waved him off. Whatever; I'm comfortable with my taste in music. There's not enough time in a kid's life for them to recognize quality!

"So, who are they 'resisting' then?"

"The Corrupted King. He's too... y'know, corrupt. Tyrant, overlord stuff."

"Cool, cool." I nodded. "So the story's about overthrowing the government?"

"Sort of? One part is; there was more in the promotional materials. We'll find out."

"Fair enough. So what are we supposed to do in here?"

"The quest log says to wait out the night." Percival shrugged and leaned back in his chair, pulling up a menu and flicking through pages.

I leaned against the bar. "So is this, like, a waiting room? The servers are overloaded, so they stick us here to chill while they spin up more shards?"

"There's no sharding, and it's a limited initial release - they knew exactly how many people would be logging in. It's in the journal, so I think it's story-relevant."

Well, whyever we were stuck there, I was gonna do it in style. I spun back to the bar and raised my hand to flag down the barkeep.

Before I could open my mouth, the door crashed open. In bounced a girl who looked a little younger than Percival, her long brown hair whipping around as she practically ricocheted off the walls. Behind her strode a woman in her early-mid thirties with dark hair and amber eyes - almost red. 'Excalibur' and 'Rose' respectively. My first instinct was to peg them as a mother and daughter logging in together, but there was no resemblance, and Rose wasn't tracking the girl like a parent would. It was more like exasperation. Whose brat is this?

Rose scanned the room, looking at me and Percival. "Evening. Has a man by the name of Filius come by?"

"Nope." we shook our heads.

"Hm." she frowned. "We logged in at the same time."

I shrugged, "If he's here, I'm sure he'll show up soon."

Meanwhile, Excalibur had clambered up on a bar stool and slammed her palms on the counter. "Yo, barkeep! Gimme a beer, my good man!"

Rose pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ok, you are definitely not old enough to be drinking."

"Aw, c'mon! I'm twenty-one!"

"You absolutely are not."

"Who cares; it's a game! Not like I'm chugging IRL!"

I had to give the spitfire points for audacity. And, honestly, at her age, I'd probably do the same. I shrugged, "Hey, better in a controlled environment where the damage is simulated than bumming a can off a homeless person in some seedy back alley."

Rose closed her eyes and held up her hand. "Not helping. This one's what, twelve?"

"Almost fourteen, thank you very much!" Excalibur huffed.

"The devs wouldn't let her get blitzed if it'd actually hurt her." I said. "We all gotta get our life experience sometime! Barkeep! A cider for me, if you please!"

A menu popped up in front of me listing all kinds of artisanal ciders. However, the prices beside them were listed in glaring red, and the number at the bottom of the menu said I had a whopping zero... whatever the currency was called.

"... Spare change, anyone? Help a fella in need."

Percival blinked at me blankly, and Rose crossed her arms and gave me an unamused glare.

Then, once again, the door burst open. In stumbled a kid so thoroughly drenched that, as the first wave of water dripped off him, he looked like a swamp monster. Gasping for breath, he shook himself off like a dog, spraying water everywhere. Rose walked away from the splash zone.

"Oh, hi." the kid said, flushing beet red as he noticed all of us staring. "It's bad out there."

His name was Davi Crockett, and he was somewhere in his late teens, early twenties. It was hard to say what he looked like when his hair was plastered over his face.

"You ok, buddy?" I asked.

"I didn't know where to go," he smiled sheepishly, "then I got lost and fell in a gutter."

"Well come on in and warm yourself by the fire!"

Davi left a trail of water in his wake as he scurried over to the hearth and proceeded to make himself even smaller and more unobtrusively out of the way than Percival.

Rose asked, "Did all of you get directions to come here, too?"

"Yup, big glowing waypoint on the map." I confirmed.

Davi said, "An arrow appeared on the ground for me."

I said, "Sounds like they're ratcheting up the pressure to funnel us here. Shouldn't be long until it starts."

"How many more are we waiting on?" Rose asked. "I logged in with my husband; I assumed we would start together."

"The party size is five." Percival said.

I said, "It's launch day; things are gonna get chaotic. Whatever we're here for, it can't take too long, right? So let's go!"

Rose nodded and looked around. "Do we need to find the event trigger...? Excuse me!" She waved at the trio of hooded NPCs. "Hail there, fellows! Do you have any quests for us?"

They continued their hushed discussion, apparently not even hearing her.

Just then, as if on cue, the tavern door burst open one final time. In staggered a man in a dark, dripping cloak, his chest heaving and his eyes wild. Not a player - he was an NPC.

"There we go." Rose said and stepped out of his way.

"Places everyone!" I shouted. "And... action!"

The newcomer threw off his hood, and his name updated to Torval, Hand of the Resistance. He staggered through the empty tables, knocking chairs aside as he ran over to the group in the corner. "King's men!" he whispered in a hoarse panic, loud enough to foil any attempt at secrecy. "Outside the town!"

The names of the three at the table updated as they reacted. Baldwin, Hand of the Resistance, jumped up and started pacing over to the windows, head in his hands. "Already?! They must have caught our trail again! Oh, this is Annesburg all over!"

Livitha, First Blade of the Resistance, stood and slammed her hands on the table, the edge of her long, stringy blonde hair falling out of the corners of her hood. She was pretty underneath the dirt and stern fury. "Get ahold of yourself! Panic is what let Annesburg get out of control - we need to move quickly and deal with them. How many are there?"

Torval's voice trembled. "It was too dark to get a count; i-it's a whole host!"

"Blast!" Livitha cursed. "We'll need to draw them into the city and use the closed-in streets to take away the strength of numbers."

The last NPC, Alephred, the Spymaster, leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He was an old man with closely shaven grey hair and a nasty scar over one milk-white eye. "No, we aren't prepared for this. Fighting here will only endanger the civilians."

"We can't hide in the shadows forever!" Livitha argued, her knuckles going white against the table.

"You're right, we don't have the resources to delay much longer," Alephred remained calm, "but here they have us up against a wall. If you want to discuss strategy, we will do so another day. For now, we need to reach that other day." He stood. "I'll meet the King's men at the Edge of the city and hold them off. Torval, gather our people and send them my way. Livitha, warn and evacuate the locals - even if they didn't know it, the King will not tolerate them sheltering us. Baldwin, you're with me. Move!"

The Resistance group scrambled into action and headed for the door with hurried purpose. One of the burly men at the bar spun around. "Hold up, you Resistance?"

"Yes." Alephred replied. "My express apologies for bringing this trouble to your doorstep, and I take it upon myself to resolve it."

The man slammed his fist on the bar. "Stuff it, old man! If you're fighting the King, I want in! Dastard's been dredgin' us under his feet for too long!"

The man sitting beside him shook his head. "Suit yourself; I'm gettin' out of here." He slapped some coins on the counter, pulled his coat up closer around himself, and walked out.

Alephred shook the new recruit's hand. "Your country thanks you."

He turned and looked at the other patrons of the establishment - at the redhead watching them passively, at the mop drying by the fire, at the woman standing expectantly in the middle of the floor, at the child trying to nick the coins the other man left behind, and at the sorry excuse of a sod at the end of the bar.

"What about you lot? You look too capable to be ordinary civilians. We're short on hands here; would you mind helping escort the citizens out of harm's way? I can't offer you much, but we have extra equipment if you need it."

I stared into my mug, long empty - much like myself. "I gave up that life a long time ago... All I wanted was to retire out here and die in peace, but you can't even let me have that, huh? You drag the King's men to my doorstep... I oughta turn you over to 'em. ... But damn it, that's not what Sheila would have wanted." I turned to Alephred and jabbed a shaky, barely sober finger at him. "Fine, one more job! But don't think for a second I'm doing this for you!"

Excalibur let out a whoop, bouncing on her stool. "Let's kill 'em all!"

A set of UI panels materialized in front of each of us. At the top was the headline, 'Pick your starting class - this may be changed at any time during the introduction, and equipment will be reassigned to match. Unchosen classes may be unlocked later.'

Seven options were laid out underneath, each with a brief description and sample skills. The top four were standard melee fighters - Lancer, featuring heavy armor for a defensive playstyle; Barbarian, which had 'big axe' listed as a key feature; Swordfighter as the balanced choice; and Thief, which came with position-based crit bonuses and utility skills. Below those were a trio of non-melee options - Medic as the support, Mage with an arsenal of elemental spells, and Archer.

Excalibur made her pick with zero hesitation - her clothes shimmered and reformed into sleek dark leather. She closed her fists near her belt, and a pair of twin daggers materialized in them. She twirled them around wildly. "Aw yeah, I'm ready!"

Percival's outfit shifted into a slate grey robe over simple light-grey clothes. Feeling the fabric of the robe, he said, "I was hoping this would be a little thicker, given the rain."

Rose changed into a set of light chain and leather with an arming sword hanging off her belt. She drew it and examined the blade, testing its weight and balance.

"Did you pick mage?" Davi asked Percival, who nodded. "Then we don't have a healer...."

"Who cares?" I said. "It's the tutorial - they're not gonna make it impossible. Try whatever you'd like."

"Ok... then I'll be an Archer!" Earthy brown leather replaced his clothes, similar to Excalibur's but with more reinforcement at the shoulder, and a quiver shimmered into existence across his back.

For the sake of variety, I wanted to pick something different from the rest of them. I wanted to get my hands dirty and see what the game had to offer, so Medic was off the table. That left Barbarian and Lancer. Big axe or big armor. Neither would be my first choice; I've always been more of a rogue player.

After considering it, I decided to try out Lancer - see what having the reach of a spear could do for me. In a flash of light, my clothes reformed into a cuirass over a long chainmail shirt, thick pants with strips of metal sewn into them, and sturdy gauntlets. Not as heavy as I expected, but I could definitely feel the weight.

"Your country thanks you." Alephred said. "Please follow Livitha's instructions - we'll keep the worst of the fighting away from you.

With that, the NPCs who had stuck around to wait for Alephred filed out alongside him, leaving just us players alone in the bar. Rose and Percival were reading through their skills while Excalibur hopped off her stool and ran out into the street.

I pulled up my own menu and checked my equipment. The gear was currently locked to my body - probably would be as long as we were testing out classes. For a weapon, I was equipped with a 'Trainee Infantry Spear', currently cosmetically hidden, which was listed as a hand-and-a-half weapon.

"Hey, Percy, your read the lore, right?" I asked. "What's a hand-and-a-half weapon?"

"Selectively one- or two-handed. You can use a sidearm, like a shield, for added utility, or both hands to gave some skills stronger effects."

"Huh, neat." I flipped over to my skill list and read through them. I had a taunt, a sweep that pushed enemies away, and an armor-piercing thrust. "Oh, I see - this one gets a stronger knockback, and this one leaves a broken armor debuff. Cool, thanks."

From outside, Excalibur's voice rang out. "Read your shit later; get out here!"

I straightened up. "She's right - the townsfolk are in danger! Let us sally forth, my friends!"

The four of us headed outside into the storm-swept streets.