He went to one of the three local taverns. Somehow he'd imagined there'd be more, but he supposed it was enough competition for a place this size. On a wall, just like in a classic RPG, there was a corkboard with many papers and Quests posted. His thing had been eSports, but that didn't mean he didn't play other kinds of video games; he was no fool. However, not all missions were there, only the ones that served to see the atmosphere. The vast majority were in an app they made him download. He didn't have to talk to anyone, just scan the QR code.
There were many more Quests there, with more details and even the suggested level to tackle them. He wondered how the system worked, if the first to arrive kept it and that's it, because there were clearly some missions that could be repeated and others that couldn't. Well, he doubted many people wasted time with beginner Quests, so for now he didn't think he had to worry about competition.
Ashfall had grown quite a bit in the years since it began to be built, but he didn't get the impression that new people arrived all the time. Maybe for tourism, but not to settle, not to become one of them. He got that impression by pure logic, and because everyone was looking at him, though without approaching, which he appreciated. He didn't want to talk to anyone more than necessary. In a place like this everyone knew everyone, so any new face stood out. It must be because of that.
Although he'd liked receiving a classic map of the place, which he now carried in a pocket, he had to use the GPS that came in the app to get to the beginning of the Quest he'd chosen. He hadn't thought about it much, otherwise he would have been paralyzed by indecision. The app was called "A Dungeon Explorer's Guide," by the way. They hadn't thought too much about the name: simple and to the point, it was what it was. Anyway, this was an industry and people were here for what they were here for: making money, not to be celebrated for their creativity. He'd chosen this Quest in particular for a very simple reason.
James crouched and easily moved aside the slab of the false tomb, exposing the portal to the dungeon. It was a special dungeon where you were given the necessary equipment at the beginning, just like in the tutorial one. He'd checked local prices for armor and swords with the app, and it was obvious he couldn't afford anything good yet, not until he finished this one.
He took a deep breath, gathering courage, and jumped into the portal.
He seemed to be falling for a long time, but in the end his feet touched the ground as if he were floating. Nothing surprising, since everything around him was also floating. It was as if he were in the middle of clouds. He saw nothing but pieces of medieval castles connected by nothing, platforms suspended in the void and consumed by vegetation like worms by a corpse.
"But what the fuck..."
His eyes were popping out of their sockets. Did this count as a dungeon? The objective was simple, he just had to complete it and leave. It didn't seem very difficult, but he certainly hadn't expected something like this.
This didn't resemble a dungeon at all, but it was the right place, there was no doubt about that, and he had work to do. He approached the edge and took a look; there was nothing but an endless fall through the clouds. James swallowed and quickly looked away, afraid of getting dizzy. It could be so easy: if he missed a jump, he was dead and that's it. For a suggested level two Quest, it was ridiculous. The idea of falling and simply returning to the platform like in a video game seemed just as ridiculous, although this whole place was governed by the rules of a video game genre that seemed to have been independently invented. Anyway, he couldn't afford to find out.
James took a deep breath, gathering courage. Actually, the distance between platform and platform wasn't very great; what worried him, the real danger, was the height. He was terrified by the idea of not getting a good grip, having to climb with all his strength and in the end being unable, being condemned to a slow death while falling. Maybe he should go through the portal again, throw in the towel with this Quest and try his luck with another. He hoped it would be better, easier. But, what kind of way was that to begin his first official day as a dungeon explorer? Leaving with his tail between his legs? No, no, no, he had to do this, he was obligated.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
He made the first jump, and it wasn't as difficult as it seemed. In fact, he'd miscalculated the distance; he didn't have to grab onto the edge, but reached the other side without problems. He rolled on the ground upon landing and it even looked like the protagonist of some action movie, although it was too early for him to get cocky or lower his guard. If he'd looked down, he would have fainted instantly, so yes, lowering his guard wouldn't be smart.
He reached the second platform more or less fine, too. On the third, however, he thought he'd die. He barely caught the edge with his fingertips of one hand. Fuck this shit, he gritted his teeth, almost bit his tongue. Small stones were falling under his hand, he was going to lose a grip point. He stretched his other arm until he could grip with his other hand. Now he just had to push himself up a few small centimeters. Once he was lying there, he could roll the rest of the way to a more central, safer position. And he could afford it, because the third platform was quite larger than the previous two, like a small piece of city, although around, of course, there were only castles and medieval buildings.
James made it, barely, but that's what counted. Then he set out to walk deserted streets. He felt a bit overwhelmed, and maybe that's why he started talking to himself, which was usually a bad sign. I know the portal never leads to the same place, even if it's the same entrance, but still it's creepy to be so alone in a place like this.
On the other hand, he didn't want a group of more experienced explorers nearby to laugh at him, mock him or, at most, help him with some condescension. Although he was more or less calm, he was still half convinced that enemies would appear out of nowhere, or maybe from those doors and windows that led to apparently empty buildings.
In the end he reached a fork. Which would be the right path? Well, one way or another, he supposed both would end in a long fall in case he missed the jump. He didn't think the platforms ended so soon. Actually, he'd prefer a thousand times to beat up another zombie, or a dozen; he'd never liked heights. He looked around, trying to decide. Despite everything, he wouldn't call it a phobia, exactly, it was common sense: if you fell from a high enough place, you'd kill yourself. Why would he call that a phobia? He had good reasons to fear heights.
In the end he couldn't distinguish any trap or sign, if there was one, so he chose the direction at random. To be specific, he went right. It didn't take long to get an unpleasant surprise. They almost made mush of him. A building to his right suddenly collapsed, and the rubble cut off his path. Fortunately, the crash was deafening, to say the least, so he had time to step back. But if he hadn't, nothing would have been left of him. How close he'd been to dying, how close, damn it.
He took a deep breath, standing up again. His legs were trembling, but he stayed firm. The nearby lamppost had been bent a bit, but it could still be useful to him. Feeling a bit stupid, because after all he could take a detour, he started climbing it. He didn't want to go back, he didn't even know why, he preferred to try it this way. He climbed reaching the top, jumped over the rubble and landed on the other side. Well, first he slid a bit, of course, otherwise he would have broken his fucking leg. When he said "the other side," he meant on top of the rubble, not the ground; that would be a crazy jump. He'd done it against all odds, and it hadn't even been difficult. He could have taken a detour, but well, what's done is done. Besides, what told him the left path was going to be easier? Maybe he'd run into a dead end or an insurmountable distance. It wasn't worth thinking about that kind of thing; superstitious fears could only distract him from what was important.
My agility hasn't increased, James thought, but I feel lighter. It could be because of strength. The more strength he had in his arms and legs, the easier it would be to climb. That made sense, sounded very logical. One way or another, it was obvious that someone who spent their life sitting down couldn't have achieved such a feat, no way, without help.
A bit further ahead his streak of good luck continued. This time it was the floor that collapsed.
Oh, shit!, he muttered, stepping back as fast as he could.
He was afraid of losing his balance and falling into the void, but he had time to step aside. Besides, not all the floor had collapsed, just almost. There was a piece suspended over the void, which he could cross as if walking on a tightrope. He wouldn't be in much of a hurry, let's say, but he could do it.
