Savanto

Interlude One

September 16th, 2065

On the North. Far away from the Mosara Desert, which lies to the  Far South of the world.

Jeremy stood in front of a crowd of people, on top of a wooden platform. The throng of peasants, soldiers, even players like him—the latter who watched with a horrified, confused, and shocked eye—had come to witness something unprecedented in the history of gaming.

He was being sentenced to death. Not by real-world authorities, but by the apparently present police force of the town he had spawned in. Armored knights stood firmly beside him—some of them had even given him training, and now Jeremy could sense their anger. 

How could they possibly know what anger was? This game's rigged, so he thought.

It was a few days after the game's awaited release to the public, Jeremy was one of the first to enter its massive world. Like the others, just as the developers had warned, he went through the neural scan of his psyche, a new piece of technology introduced to the Head Gear required to play the game. He appeared like a knight, a classical class of order-seeking warriors. Jeremy had surely played this class before, and he was elated that his slender and small avatar had the necessary skills to move forward in the game, despite its apparent physical limitations, as well as a starting membership to the local noble's guard. He had everything set for him, his friends, connected through voice chat, complained about their appearances or their class—he was the one with a better start. And lost it he had within the first two days.

He glanced at the people there. His friends had spawned elsewhere in the world, courtesy of the game's rough start, so they would not witness his apparent execution by the NPCs, that artificial intelligence that the game had so thoroughly designed to make them law-abiding citizens and guards. 

The problem was he had been streaming the whole time.

To his left side, his hud had a blinking red circle with the typical "Recording" message. Famous he was, with a following of hundreds of thousands—now a few million as the news had spread like wildfire.

"People of Duncal!" said a herald holding a scroll, "Heed my words!"

The crowd's murmurs went gradually silent, the plaza he was in became engulfed by the absence of voices and even the walking of people. Jeremy gulped as he could now hear his heartbeats. 

"Before us lies the exemplar of fraud!" the herald accused.

The crowd booed and threw lettuces and other, more hurtful pieces of rotten food to Jeremy, dropping his HP 30% down. He tried to set himself free, but the handcuffs denied his escape. As a result of his small scuffle with his restraints, one of the soldiers grabbed him by the arm and hit him with his helmet, "Stay still maggot."

When the crowd was silenced again, the herald spoke, "On the charge of murder, theft, and invasion of property, this man, once an initiate in the honorable guard of our Lord, Baron Duncal, Protector of the Western Corridor, Custodian of the Elven Forest, from whom we name our beautiful town, entered without permission to a restricted area of Castle Rock, proceeded to murder our liege's dogs, whose duty lied in the protection of the goods stored there, as well as a maid that had caught him in the act. His apparent lack of empathy and violent acts to our lord's property and servants is one that, besides inconceivable for a knight, is punishable by death—by decapitation!"

The crowd condemned in unison, yet in different tones and words. Jeremy reminisced of what happened, and the way the herald had put it... it was actually true.

Jeremy was known for his walkthroughs throughout every single MMO he could find on the virtual shops and retailers. He had shown his fans and audience how to find each world's secrets and easter eggs, how to complete achievements, earn extra experience points, how to kill difficult bosses, and team up with other gamer celebrities to face special events in-game. He was known as "Completionist Jeremy" in his circle—and targeted audience. So, given his reputation, he proceeded to roam the castle in which he had spawned. He had received an inspiring speech regarding honor and courage from his "liege", Baron Ducal—a towering figure, silver hair, and a magical, diamond-based armor enveloped in a thick, regal cape of green shades—and despite recording everything for his fans to see, he had starting eyeing potential hidden spots.

It did not take him long to see suspicious and tasty-looking stairs leading to a dark basement once he was dismissed by the baron. Down he went, making sure he was not seen by the patrolling guards. One of them was climbing back from the basement and questioned Jeremy, "I am on a special task by the captain," he lied, "I am to check this corridor."

The guard was somewhat satisfied with his answer. Jeremy continued, excited about his upcoming finds, any possible loot to have a headstart in the game would be more than welcomed. He arrived at the locked gates of the basement, and he saw the key inserted in its lock. Seriously, could he be any luckier than this?

As he entered, his exploration of the castle had borne its fruit, as he stood before some caches containing weapons and, in some cases, gold. He took as much as his inventory could carry. He proceeded to leave the basement before anyone could arrive when his advance was halted. Two enormous hounds had appeared before him, bearing their fangs and barking. He panicked, so far he had witnessed a realistic game with a very smart AI, so he had to act quickly before these annoying beasts could draw the attention of the other guards. He unsheathed his sword, a claymore granted to him by the captain of the guard, and went for the kill. He slashed the hounds with it, skillfully avoiding their attacks—he was a skilled player, his senses as sharp as his blade. In a few minutes of fighting, he stood among the corpses of two b****y dogs.

"Now, let's get going, he said,"

"T-those... those were the baron's hounds!" a female voice cried behind him.

He turned, a woman dressed in peasant clothes, with a typical white apron to cover her from unwanted stains in her other attire, had arrived in the basement with some bags of coin.

"Aw shit." Jeremy said, "Hold on, I can explain."

"Guards! Guards!" the maid shouted, asking for assistance.

Those cries for help sent a shiver down Jeremy's spine and his throat choked out of fear, he did not know what to do—no game had cornered him so early in the start. No other experience had been so randomly created in any other game. A possible solution came swiftly to his mind, That woman, she's only a PC, he thought.

"Sorry guys," he apologized to his viewers, "I will have to do this, I don't want to be found out."

He raised his sword and slashed the main with it. The woman fell to the ground, her eyes still open, yet whitened by the trauma inflicted upon her.

"s**t, that's f****d up." He said, "Sorry guys, I did not know the death simulations were so real. I won't do this again, it's just that... It's so early in the game and we have so much loot."

Just as he prepared to leave, he was obstructed again—this time by the arrival of three of his peers, the guards. This time, he gulped, his sweat now tangible, proof of his anxiety rising.

"Who the hell are you talking to-" the first guard asked, cutting his question short the moment he looked at the s*******r, "by the gods... what... no... Lorena!"

"Oh, her name was Lorena... wait what?" Jeremy said.

"You... how could you!"

"Ser Gilford, look at his pockets!" said a second guard.

He probably means my inventory, Jeremy thought. His head was spinning. Were not these guys supposed to be insensitive AIs? How could a moment so spontaneous be so well scripted? This game was surely rigged.

"He's stealing from the Baron!"

"You... you bastard!" the first, Ser Gilford, "You killed her!" 

"No... no..."

"Your blade has her blood... and the hounds, oh the hounds!"

"Ser Jeremy," spoke the third guard, "this was your first day!"

Without further deliberation and horror, the guards rushed towards Jeremy. He could not get his sword ready, as they moved with the skills of veteran fighters—they were, after all, the Baron's guards. They ceased him and knocked him to the ground, hitting him over and over. Jeremy felt every one of those hits, but he fought to keep his eyes open—his fans were watching!

The rest was history. There he was, standing trial for his "crimes". But he understood nothing, he could not make sense of what was happening. He declared himself to be the victim of a scam, this game was a scam for sure! Jeremy wanted to log off. He could with the click of a button, but he stopped himself every time.

His ratings had gone up ever since his arrest. His friends had told him of the news in the media, he was a celebrity for showcasing a spontaneous event in the game! He was there for mere days and he had already been the centerpiece of an in-game execution, and by the NPCs.

Still, a thorn at his side bothered him relentlessly. How did it all happen?

He saw the tall figure of the Baron, the man who had appointed him as part of his retinue, rise to the platform, escorted by more guards. His silver hair flowed with a wind Jeremy did not feel, as the air was crushingly heavy in that plaza due to the accumulation of people.

"Bend the knee!" one of the guards ordered, "you are in the presence of our Lord!"

His head slammed the wooden platform. The Baron kneeled to voice a few words.

"I trusted you," he said with his voice, deep and commanding, "enough to make you part of my personal guard, you had your future assured, access to the best meals in the castle... and all for you to try to steal me, kill my pets... my friends, and one of my wife's closest maids, not to mention one of the most trusted of all in the big crew that fields my home."

Jeremy remained silent. How was he supposed to retort to something like that, and to an NPC!

"Hmph, put him on the log," he ordered, "I will deal the killing blow."

A sense of dread, a nameless fear appeared in Jeremy's heart as his head was put on the wooden log and held firm, unable to move or struggle away. The baron unsheathed his sword, pristine and adorned with the most precious emeralds, Baron Ducal lifted his longsword skyward, holding it with his two hands.

"For all the innocent blood you spilled, Lorena, and my two hounds. May your head pay the price for the bridge they must now cross to reach the heavens!"

This is it! Jeremy thought, panicking.

The blade fell, perhaps under its own weight, Jeremy did not feel the cut, as it was as clean as the Baron's armor, but then his eyes started rolling—just as his head now was.