CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER SEVEN - The Vigil

There were no words, Cody was certain, that could properly describe the pain of being bitten by a wolf. All the expletives in the English language could be screamed through a megaphone in alphabetical order and still fall hopelessly short in managing such a task. Still, it hurt so badly that his brain felt required to give it a shot.

"Mother fuck shit piss," Cody yelled. He banged his shield against the wolf's flank, scoring a few cheap hits upon its thick, tangled coat. Unfortunately, none of them dissuaded the fiendish beast from releasing its hold on his arm.

It was a credit to him that he was still managing to fend off the woodlings that were going after his pantsless legs. The little bastards were relentless in their siege, even with the other two wolves chewing through their numbers like fresh kibble. Had his mail shirt not been between his precious skin and the wolf's teeth, maybe such a thing wouldn't have been possible. As it was, though, he patted himself on the back for fighting through the pain.

Mentally, of course. Both his arms were well occupied.

"God — damn it!"

A strong bash from his shield finally freed his arm from the brutal maw. The wolf whined and stumbled away, but it wasn't to be defeated so easily. It threw itself forward with a vengeance, issuing a cruel snap of its jaws that might have taken Cody's face off had he been slower to raise his shield.

His sword found a new sheathe in the wolf's underbelly, set there by a shaky lunge of his own. Its health bar fell below the halfway point and, as though to spite him, it obeyed its programming, retreating a few paces and releasing a terrible howl. He was certain that each of his party members would need a change of pants when they heard it in the distance.

It was an everwolf's signature ability — a howl that summoned the rest of its pack to its aid and pointed a giant invisible finger at the player who was being mean to it. And as Cody was that lucky player, he now had three wolves staring him down as though he were a juicy looking bone at Pet Smart. The woodlings were no longer of any interest to them.

Cody escorted a woodling's head from its body then ducked inside of a tent. It was more a tattered bunch of hides twisted into a uneven cone, but the word tent was the closest synonym in his lexicon, right next to shit-hovel. For roominess, it left much to be desired — space for perhaps four woodlings and their little sleeping bags — but that was precisely why he had gone inside of it. Sure, he'd cornered himself, but it gave him the chance of taking on his enemies in a nice, orderly fashion.

That is, the chance of not dying a horrific death via wolf gangbang.

Two woodlings burst through the tent flaps — his first customers. Like a courteous waiter, he served out a clean slash that split open their necks at the Adam's apple. Their bodies served as barricades, forcing the next few woodlings to crawl over them in an effort to enter the tent's cramped confines. They fell alongside their friends.

Cody yelped as a wolf's head burst through the tent's feeble hide and wattle walls. He took a step back from its snapping maw, then made a heavy slash that ran down the right side of its face, popping its eye like a grape. Had it been a level lower than four, it might have died rather than merely lost half of its vision.

Another of the wolves broke through the tent, though with more than just its head. It came smashing through the musty hide like a wrecking ball, tearing open a new entrance for his pack and the woodlings to come through. Cody swung down on its neck a few times before it could spin around to face him, severing most of its head from its body.

[You have defeated [Forest Wolf]

+ 110 EXP]

It was a lovely message, and Cody would've been glad to read it had he not been rammed through the other side of the tent by the wolf's next of kin.

He hit the ground like a sack of flour, but by some miracle managed to keep his shield up, separating his head from the one-eyed wolf slavering over it. A few bashes and flimsy whacks from his blade didn't deter it from its post, and his meager ten points of might weren't capable of pushing it off of him. The beast had him trapped.

Woodlings came around the sides of the tent, eyeing him like a lecher would a woman with three breasts. Their crude knives were poised to shank, and he knew it was his legs they were after — his poor, sorely abused legs that the little devils seemed to have a fetish for.

This was his death, Cody concluded. Level five, no pants, bested by wolves and woodlings. Not exactly a high note to end on, but it was better than . . . no, it wasn't better than anything, really. At least Melk would feel bad for saving some stupid NPCs.

The wolf's head stopped snapping at his shield. It might've been an odd thing for an such a dumb and aggressive creature to do, but the cause was very easily diagnosed, even by a layman in medicine like Cody.

Its head had been split in half.

Cody tossed the thing's limp, bleeding body off of him and looked up with bleary eyes. There, above him, stood a knight in shining armor. Literally — the thin remains of dusky daylight were hitting the guy's armor just right, giving it a warm glow that was positively heroic. His sword might have shined as well, but it was dark with wolf blood. All in all, he would have given the guy nine points out of ten for his arrival.

"Do not fear, my friend," the knight said in a very theatrical voice, rolling the r in friend like it was thick dough. "I will not allow these vile fiends to kill so valiant a hero as yourself."

"Thanks, bro," Cody gasped out. His stamina was as low as a limbo bar, so it was all he could offer the guy.

The knight went to work, setting his blade to the task of slaughter. And he did it artfully. Every stab and slash he dealt out was like something out of a movie, perfectly performed to the point of looking choreographed. The woodling masses were reduced to meat sauce before they could even try a single strike against their foe.

Cody struggled to his knees with the help of his sword, intent on getting a better view of the scene. It was then that the last wolf decided to come at him, whipping around the corner of the tent and galloping toward him like a spurred racehorse.

He readied his sword and shield with weary arms, but there was no need. The knight ended his attack upon the woodlings and met the wolf as it leapt through the air. His curved sword split the beast in half with a masterful strike, and it crashed into the dirt, intestines spilling out of its two halves like ruptured sacks of noodles.

Cody stared at the knight as he approached him, properly awed. With how easily the guy cut through the wolf, he must have been at least a level eight or nine. But how could any player have leveled up so quickly? And how could he have purchased the expensive gear he was wearing?

He frowned when he noticed the knight's username. Or rather, his lack of a username.

"Are — are you an NPC?"

The knight flicked the blood from his blade and sheathed it. "I am not sure what an NPC is, but I am First Vigil Muggs, proud servant of Oren, King of Odes. It is a pleasure to meet you, brave hero." He performed a very elegant bow.

"My god, you are an NPC." Cody tried to stand, but the pain in his legs sent him back to his knees.

"You are injured. Please allow me to carry you back to Odes."

"No, no, I'm — " He glanced at his health bar.

[102 / 600 HP]

With all that damage centered chiefly at his legs, it would be a little bit before he was up and moving again. He needed to meet up with his party as quickly as possible, and limping a few miles through hostile territory probably wasn't a bright idea. Plus, the guy was offering.

"Okay, yeah. Good idea."

Muggs nodded and swooped him up like a blushing bride. And Cody was, in fact, blushing. Mostly because of the pain — it felt as though his legs and sword arm had been flayed, hosed down with gasoline, then set on fire — but some part of it was embarrassment. Being a damsel in distress did a number on the old ego, though the fairy tales often left that part out.

"I need to loot these monsters before we go. Do you think you could sort of — " he made some meaningless gesture with his hands " — walk me over to each of them? Just to the wolves, at least."

"But of course, brave hero."

"Cody's fine."

"Very good, Sir Cody."

Muggs carried him to each of the wolves and allowed Cody to loot them. Thankfully the looting process was simple: a little swish of the hand and an affirmative response to a prompt. It didn't force the Vigil to do anything but walk over to the monsters.

[The following items have been added to your inventory:

+ 64 talons

+ 21 [Lesser Woodling Head] - quest item

+ 2 [Wolf Fur] - common crafting item

+ 1 [Wolf Tooth] - uncommon crafting item]

"Okay, that's plenty. Thanks, Muggs."

"Are you certain? There are many more woodlings that you haven't . . . looted yet."

"No, it's fine, really. I need to get back to my friends. They're probably on the road to Odes right now." Cody flicked his map open and found that, sure enough, his party was indeed on the road to Odes. Melk as well; the idiot had caught up to the rest of them.

"Then we shall meet them there."

He tried not to look Muggs in the face as they started down the path; things were already awkward enough without them making eye contact. Still, his peripheral vision told him the guy had the typical roughness of an Odes soldier to his face — square and stubbly jaw, Roman nose, steely gaze: the sort of features one would stereotypically assign to a warrior.

His appearance was hardly his most defining characteristic, though. An NPC who fought his programming and saved a player from death, Muggs was an anomaly if ever there was one — a veritable miracle, really. As to how he was even possible, Cody hadn't the slightest idea. But the most pertinent question was: what drove him to come out into the Everwoods?

Then the thought occurred to him: he could just ask the guy.

"Why are you out here?"

Muggs looked confused about that point himself. "Well, I heard your speech at the gates. It was quite impressive. I admit that I — " he cleared his throat " — well, that I didn't wholly understand your message, but your people seemed to. I had to get answers, you see."

"So you followed me into the Everwoods?"

"Yes. And well that I did, too. Your friends are not a capable bunch, I must say. They stuck you in quite a nasty predicament, particularly the pale one."

"Melk." Cody nodded. "He's an idiot, yes. I'll make sure he knows that when I see him again."

"I do admire his heroic nature, however, reckless though it may be. Those three poor citizens of Odes taken captive by the woodlings — what horror! Why, I myself was close to jumping from the underbrush and decimating the camp."

"Why didn't you? You were there the whole time, right?"

Muggs frowned. "Well, you see — I felt as though a voice was urging me not to. As though some higher entity was commanding me to return to the gates. My fellow Vigils expressed similar sympathies before I quit them."

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what the "higher voice" was, Cody thought. His programming had, through some incredible means, been reduced from absolute command to mere suggestion. And it must have been a widespread phenomenon as well, considering all the lunacy that was going on. It certainly helped explain why high-level monsters were so close to Odes.

Were his NPCs actually becoming sentient? Had they transcended the meager designs he originally installed in them? These were important questions, but an even bigger one took up the bulk of his headspace: just what could have been the catalyst for such a development?

He could only hope that time would yield an answer.

"What answers were you hoping to get from me, exactly?"

"What is the game ?"

Cody quirked an eyebrow. "I don't follow."

"You told your people that if they died in the game, they would die in real life. Was it, perhaps, a turn of phrase that I am unacquainted with?"

"Oh, that. Well, it's sort of like this — " He stopped himself, wondering just how much he should tell the NPC. Telling him that he was no more than a bunch of ones and zeroes seemed a little heavy handed, so a good middle ground might be preferable. Something that didn't send him into an existential crisis.

"Yes?"

"See, me and the people you're referring to . . . well, we're from another world."

"I see." Muggs nodded. "Many a minute have I spent staring up at the other worlds, hoping to one hour visit them. Alas, my duty to Odes may never permit me to pursue such a quest. Honor is heavy chain to wear at times."

Cody smiled. The NPC spoke of minutes and hours as though they were significant units of time. Though, considering he had been born less than half a day ago, it made sense. It was an interesting case: the man who suddenly came into existence, even armed with intelligence, was little more than a toddler.

"Not those worlds. We come from a world beyond them — a different universe, actually. That's why we call your universe a game and our universe real life. Make sense?"

"I believe it does, yes. But what brings you to our universe?"

"We were visiting and accidentally got stuck here. To get back home, we'll have to kill the gatekeepers guarding each of the worlds, then take down Omen."

Muggs took a sharp breath. "Omen. . . I see."

"You know the name?"

"Yes, I do. You speak of the God King, ruler of the seven worlds. It is a bold quest you and your people have decided to undertake. Perhaps an impossible one."

"We have no choice."

There was an opportunity here, and Cody's mind stressed that it would be prudent to seize it. A level twenty NPC that had somehow attained sentience: could there be a better ally? Nothing in this world save the gatekeeper could pose a threat to him. He could be the ultimate runway to getting back home.

It was a delicate matter, though. Just how neurotic or fragile would a newly formed intelligence be? That question resided within an entirely new field of psychology — one that neither he nor any other human had even the most rudimentary knowledge of.

He would have to tread lightly, was all he knew.

They hit the main road after a few more minutes of walking. Cody tried not to prod the NPC with any existential questions, sticking to simple, easy topics instead just to combat the silence: favorite color, hobbies, likes and dislikes — that sort of stuff. As he had only been in existence for a few hours, Muggs' answers were pretty vague and noncommittal.

He was absolutely, uncompromisingly certain, however, that his favorite color was hazelnut.

"So what do the other Vigils think about you leaving your post?" Cody asked.

They were on the final stretch of road before Odes, and the city's massive walls loomed as impressive as ever under the moonlight. The aforementioned Vigils were like little flames in the distance, lined across the length of the gates with their lanterns hanging at their sides. More could be seen walking along the tops of the walls — hundreds of men that might have been just as alive as Muggs was, trapped in the dull routine of guard duty prescribed by their programming.

The chirping of nocturnal insects — crickets and the like — had filled the night air, coming from the dense stretches of forest on either side of them. Bioluminescent plants and bugs gave off colorful glows that gave the Everwoods the look of an enchanted forest. It was a lovely scene for a nighttime stroll, and with his legs mostly healed up, Cody enjoyed it properly by walking.

Muggs hummed. "Well, they said some words about treason and dereliction of duty, but I believe they were mostly just jealous that they couldn't join me. You see, they too expressed a desire to explore beyond the gates."

"I bet they did. Standing guard all day sounds like a drag."

"A day." He stopped and stared up at the crescent moon, seeming to consider the word. "I know what a day is. I also know what a night is. But why do I have no memories of a night?"

"That's a good question." Cody tried to push away the unease simmering inside him. The conversation was getting a little deep for a newborn; it felt dangerous. "It's because this is the first night you've ever seen. You know what things are, but until you experience them, you don't have memories of them. Get it?"

Muggs said nothing, but carried on down the road. Cody walked beside him, eager to make it to his friends. This was a situation he needed some advice on. If the rest of the NPCs were like this — or would eventually be like this — then they needed a game plan for dealing with them. It felt as though he was handling dynamite — the old sort that was prone to exploding Chinese immigrants.

"Look, we're almost there. Excited to be home?"

"Yes, I think so. Could I meet your friends?"

"Of course you can. They'd love to meet you, I'm sure." Cody smiled at him, then flicked open the party chat menu.

[ADMIN_UberCody: code red. sentient NPC. bringing him to u guys

SweatyBowls: sort of ahead of u on that 1 boss. got our own we r dealing with

ADMIN_UberCody: WTF????

MistyEX: her name is gwen she is pretty and sweet and letting me brushher hair

SweatyBowls: other one is coocoo. staring at wall and saying nothing

Sax0bonez: We are at the inn you recommended to Wong and Arty.

BigEddy: the fat pup

Sax0bonez: Yes, that one. The room is getting cramped; I suggest you buy a separate one for yourself.

ADMIN_UberCody: ok omw]

"What are you doing?" Muggs asked. He squinted at Cody's menu, though it was invisible to him.

"I sent a message to my friends. They're waiting for us at the Fat Pup."

"I know where that is. The Vigils frequent it because the prices are cheap." His brow scrunched up. "Sir Cody, I don't understand why I know that. I don't believe I've ever been there, nor have I ever been told of it. It seems to me that memories should provide one with knowledge, not the other way around."

"It's confusing to me too, pal. Don't worry, though — " Cody patted him on the shoulder " — I know a guy who can help you figure this stuff out."