An Accounting of Events [SOLO]

[Mindell]

----- Mindell -----

tag: --- // words: --- // notes: ---

*******************************
Day 1
*******************************

He groaned as he rolled over, a hand covering his face. Light trickled through his fingers as he blinked them open, the fuzz from sleep clearing away with each consecutive back and forth of his eyelids. It was warm, and he was outside, apparently. He could hear birds in the background, and the clamor of people around him. When did he fall asleep? Where? The last thing he remembered was installing the latest expansion of Elder Tale and creating a new character.

He smirked to himself, closing his eyes again. He must have gone for a walk down to the park down the street and fallen asleep in the grass again. He really needed to stop doing that. Not that he thought anyone would bother him, in any case, but laying around in the sun and falling asleep in the middle of the city wasn't the smartest thing in the world.

He stretched his arms out and put his hands behind his head, smiling again, opening his eyes and-

This isn't London, he immediately realized.

He bolted upright, taking off the strange, blue glasses that adorned his face, rubbing his eyes and blinking again. He certainly was in the park down the street from his old apartment, as far as he could tell, but everything was different. Destroyed. Ruinous. Trees and vines crept up and through the buildings, the few left wholly and structurally sound. Cars littered the streets, their windows smashed out by huge roots and rust eating away at them, the decay of time readily apparent all around him.

Looking down at his own body, he began to have a sinking feeling as he noticed his clothing. He gave himself a once over. Shiny black, but sturdy and sensible dress-shoes, stout black vest and breeches, with silver buttons, a white dress shirt with button and cuff-links to match his pants and vest... He felt at his neck, and stopped dead in his tracks.

A bow-tie. Black, he knew, without needing at all to see it, dressed and fitted perfectly around his neck. He stood up, or rather scrambled to his feet, breathing heavily and placed the glasses back on his face with shaking hands.

Pushing the glasses up to the bridge of his nose, he really looked around again, trying to get a sense of where he was. Everything had a vague sense of familiarity to it, like he had seen all of it before, but it was so different. He turned on the spot, taking in all of the sights and sounds, the smells of this bizarrely alien, yet wholly familiar place, and came to the mot logical conclusion that he could, as baffling as it was to him.

I'm in... Londinium? I'm inside Elder Tale? He tried turning again, looking up this time, scanning the remnants of the shattered skyline, looking for a familiar landmark of some kind. If this was Elder Tale, and he was where he thought he was, then... Yes, there it is!

Off to his southeast, Big Ben, or what would have passed for it in this world, he wasn't sure what they called it here, rose above the rest of the city, it's clock face shattered and in disarray. The emotions he felt glancing at it were mixed, happiness and relief at something so familiar in a place so strange, and a sort of melancholy and disappointment at it's current state.

Taking a deep breath and getting his nerves back in order, he stood up straighter, brushing the grass from his trousers and sleeves. Panicking would get him nowhere, and if this WAS the world of Elder Tale, if he was REALLY in a game, he couldn't have picked a better one to be stuck in. He was a veteran player, albeit-it being stuck in a first level body. He knew this world, or at the very least had a good idea of what to expect. He took a step forward...

...and summarily fell flat on his face, his foot catching a piece of broken asphalt, tripping him up. He cursed, brushing himself off and getting back to his feet, kicking and swearing at the inanimate object. He took another step and wobbled a bit, his toe scraping the ground as he walked.

His character- ...no, I'm taller, he realized, suddenly. He himself, in his real body stood at a decent 5'8", but his character was almost 6 inches taller than he was. He gave a little hop, a few inches off of the ground, and kicked his legs out a little bit, getting a feel for this sudden and unexpected growth spurt. He slumped a bit, wiping his face with his hands, and let out a sigh. This is going to be more of a chore than I first thought.

Setting his shoulders again, he rested his right hand on... A sword? No. A rapier. He looked down at his hip and saw another adorning the left side as well. He pushed his glasses back up his nose, smiling. Of course. He had picked Swashbuckler as his class, which suited him just fine. Fast, nimble, and deadly.

He turned and faced Big Ben again, the sky lit up with early morning purples, reds, and yellows dancing across the clouds in the distance. He needed to find someone who knew anything about this world, anyone who could tell him what was going on.

Really though, he just wanted to find out if he was the only person stuck in this land of make believe or not.

Carefully, he took a step, and then another, watching his feet, and more importantly, where he was stepping. Slow and steady for the moment. Fast and nimble would do him a fat lot of good if he couldn't even move around in his own body, and he slowly made his way farther into the city.

*******************************
Day 3
*******************************

Mindell swiped at the slime, a furious and full offensive slash with his twin rapiers, jumping backwards as the creature lunged at him. He was breathing fairly heavy, but a smile played across his face as he hopped back and forth, with the creature, trading blows and getting a feel for this style of fighting.

He was a fencer in the real world, and the twin rapiers in his hands felt good, familiar in a world so very different than his own. The slime lunged again, and he brought the swords up in an "x," turning the blow into a glancing hit as he side-stepped away. He slashed out again with his right hand, and the slime wilted away, exploding in a flash of sparkles, money, and basic healing and mana accoutrements.

He moved to thee edge of the Windsor Forest field area and sat himself down against a low, cobble-stone wall. With a sigh, he leaned up against it and held his index-finger on his right hand out in front of him and pushed. Immediately, a bright set of menus, toggles, and lists appeared in front of him, only for him to see.

Working with the interface was something that was probably one of the strangest things about this new world. Let alone the fact that he was just now becoming more and more used to this body, and the fact that the food was... Well, he wasn't sure he could call it food. The Landers assured them (the Adventurers) that it was nutritious, as well as tasty, but... He sighed as he remembered that he hadn't eaten all day and conjured up a sandwich he'd purchased earlier before he left.

Grimacing, he took a bite and chewed. It had all of the consistency of a sandwich, with absolutely none of the benefits. It simply had zero taste to it, whatsoever. Furthermore, drinks were the same way. You could order a cup of coffee, or tea, and it would simply taste like nothing more than piping hot water.

Combat was also a chore to get used to. He'd seen a few players experimenting with a style the other day where they had figured out how to "Hot-Key" their skills, but he hadn't quite figured out how to, yet. The interface was clunky and hard to use, and he had to be fast to make his abilities worth using. Maybe he'd look them up and ask if they could show him how...

*******************************
Day 7
*******************************

Mindell rolled over in his bed and yawned. It was still early, the sun barely peeking through his curtains, and the sky a deep purpley-blue that told him it was time to get ready for the day. He rolled out of bed and toggled his interface, drowsily, selecting two outfits before he settled on his normal semi-formal wear. He crossed the room and splashed some of the cold water from his wash basin into his face, drying it off with a towel readily available.

He mussed up his hair, set his glasses on his nose, and gave them a push, upwards. It had taken a little bit of planning, and a lot of grinding more of those low-level slimes and boars he'd been fighting in the forest, but he'd finally made enough gold to purchase the things he'd needed to really start off.

Today was the first day of the rest of his life, as far as he was concerned. If he was going to be stuck in this new world, and stuck he was for all he, or anyone else knew, then he was going to do something with his life whilst he was here.

He tucked in his shirt, straightened his bow-tie, gave himself one more good once over, and grabbed his coat that was hanging on a peg next to the door. He trotted down the stairs of the inn, quietly, to find the Innkeeper, Shanya, already awake, busily starting fires and sweeping the floor in the common room. He smiled and talked with her for a moment, paid his room and board for the night and the day still to come before he left.

The air was a bit brisk, but in the few spots where the sun was shining in the early morning it was warm and welcoming. He pulled a pipe out of his inside jacket pocket and thumbed it full of tabac, striking a match (they called them tinder-sticks, these Landers), and puffing it alight, happily as he strolled down the boulevard towards the towns square, humming to himself as he walked.

When he reached his destination, a bench near the edge of the square, under the shade of an Elm tree, he toggled his interface once more and pulled up the sign he had purchased the day before. He looked at it, beaming with no small amount of pride in the handiwork the woodcrafter had put in to it. It simply read:

"Mindell's Post and Packages!

Deliveries meet Deadlines!

Inquire for pricing!"

He doubted he would get much truck from other adventurers, but the People of the Land were always looking to send letters and packages someplace or another, and as a Scribe and Courier, he was suited for those needs, perfectly. And truth be told, he hadn't really given much thought at all to what those professions could mean in a world like this until the other day.

Sure he would have to contain his deliveries to a more local area for the moment, until he was either able to master the mechanics of the new "Hot-Key" combat style he was learning. That, or grow his business into something a little larger, but he had no doubts that this would work out for him. At least, for the time being.

With that, he sat the sign down next to him on the bench, and watched the sun rise over his new home, Londinium. He puffed on his pipe, closed his eyes, and let the first rays of sun wash over him, taking a deep breath, and sighed. He wasn't sure what his place in this new world would be, yet, but he had a plan. And, for the moment, at least, that suited him just fine.

template by eliza @ TB & THQ