Frozen Stars Over Wonderland - Chapter 4 (Patreon)

It was another day and a half before the party reached the edge of the Wilds. Before them, jutting up against the wide, blue ocean was a city. The city towered over its own walls, the buildings a strange mishmash of different eras and styles that still somehow made sense. It reminded her of her own home city, where old and new mixed seamlessly. There was no gate in the wall, just a wide arch. She could see people streaming in and out of the opening. 

“Welcome, Alfre, to the City of Spade.”

Alfre tore her eyes from the sight before her to shoot Elias a quick smile. After days and days in the wild woods just behind them, she’d almost given up hope of seeing any signs of civilization beyond her tiny cottage. 

“Come on,” Spica snipped. “I don’t want to be stuck out here when it gets dark and the gate closes.”

Alfre blinked owlishly at that. “The gate closes?”

“Well, it didn’t used to,” Elias said with a frown. “But we don’t know what’s changed since the Incident.” 

That’s what they’d come to call what’d happened to dump them all here, for lack of a better word. Incident. Event. Simple words to refer to what must have been a complicated occurrence. It was easier to talk about something when you had a word for it. Not that they wanted to talk about it. Not yet anyway.

“Where are we going to stay once we get there?” Alfre asked. “I doubt I have enough gold for a house. A week’s stay at an inn, maybe.”

“Don’t worry,” Elias soothed. “I have friends with a very large guild hall at their disposal. I’m sure they’d be happy to lend us a room until we get on our feet.”

“Might want to give them prior warning, magician,” Spica warned. “Most people don’t like it when you drop in unannounced.”

“How do you expect him to do that?” Alfre asked.

Elias pulled out a little black book similar to the one that held Alfre’s player information. “I’ve been fiddling with this while on watch. Turns out we can still send DMs through the friends list.”

A thin white brow twitched on Alfre’s face. “How convenient.”

“Games need to have some conveniences,” he replied. “Otherwise people wouldn’t play them because they were too difficult.”

“But this isn’t a game,” she argued back.

Elias’ smile fell. “No, I suppose not.”

Spica rolled her eyes. “Well aren’t you two sunshine and roses.”

“Says the vampire,” Alfre muttered.

“And doesn’t it say something that I have the perkiest attitude here.”

“That’s a lie and we all know it. Bunny boy is far perkier than you.”

“Oh, so I don’t get to call you ‘magician’ but SHE gets to call you ‘Bunny boy?’” Spica gasped, her voice pitching up in mock offense. 

Elias’ shoulders fell in defeat. “I never said she could call me that.”

The mood lightened, at least for the moment, the three made their way down the steep hills towards the grassy fields that led up to the city walls. The city itself was built atop the cliffs that dropped precariously down into the sea, following the hill down to the rocky beaches just to the east of it. Small farms also surrounded the city and Alfre could smell the animals as they approached. Generally, the animals looked much the same as normal farm animals back home, though some cows were far more golden in color than she was used to seeing. And instead of horses, many people seemed to ride around on large stags. 

“Who runs the farms?” she asked.

“Wonderlander NPCs, mostly,” Elias answered. “But if a player chose the Famer subclass, then they can run farms as well. It’s a pretty good way to make money.”

“Subclasses?”

“You really are new to this,” Spica observed with a laugh. “Subclasses are…little bonus classes that don’t really have anything to do with the core combat gameplay. Mostly they’re just used to sell the whole ‘role playing’ thing. The magician is a butler, so he could feasibly be hired by a guild or NPC to look after an estate and earn extra gold doing so.”

“Ahh,” Alfre murmured in acknowledgement. 

“They aren’t required,” Elias elaborated. “But I think it adds to the fun. Depending on the class you choose, you can even make items. High level tailors can make all sorts of armor and enchanted garments to give you buffs in battle.”

Alfre hummed again, her attention more on the people they were passing than the conversation at hand. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected the NPCs of Wonderland to look like, but they all looked like normal, everyday people (especially when compared to her traveling companions). They were easy to pick out from the player characters, given their lack of armor or fancy clothes. Even the players working the farms seemed far better dressed than their occupation would suggest. 

Her eyes darted over to Elias and Spica. Elias’ three-piece suit wouldn’t have been out of place at some Regency Era ball. Spica was dressed in all black, as an assassin probably should be. The material of her clothes seemed to shimmer in the light, reflecting colors in a way that could constitute for camouflage. Her armor, while light and mostly hidden under her clothes, was made of a silver-white metal that Alfre, given what she knew about fantasy in general, could only assume was made of mithril. 

She glanced down at her own attire and frowned. Compared to the two of them she felt terribly underdressed and unprotected. She stood out like a sore thumb between the two of them in her snow white and frosty blue garments. Her armor was flimsy at best, leather in make and, again, white in color. The only thing on her that broke this pattern were her boots, which were black. 

Spica noticed her frown and reached out to pat her on the head in a way that Alfre couldn’t decide if it was supposed to be comforting or condescending. 

“Don’t worry, darling, we’ll get you some better armor once we reach the city.”

Alfre smacked at the offending hand with a huff.

The streets of Spade were wide and well paved. The main boulevard was some kind of market street, lined with produce stalls and small businesses. Despite the early evening hour, there was very little bustle. Those who were on the street stood huddled together in tiny clumps, shooting suspicious glances their way. Alfre’s hand went to the pommel of her sword, the paranoia rubbing off on her. 

Elias placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her along. His tone was light, but Alfre could hear the worry creeping in. “Come on, my friend is waiting for us at her guild hall.”

He turned them down a narrow side alley, glancing over his shoulder just once. Their route took another turn onto a larger street, this one lined with flowering trees in a deep purple hue. He stopped in front of a corner building, peering into its lower windows. Alfre stared up at the towering structure. It was a good eight or nine stories tall, far taller than a guild hall needed to be if you asked her. It was built in the style that reminded her of the narrow houses that lined the streets of historic Edinburgh. The bottom floor, as far as she could tell, seemed to be a pub, it’s name painted on the large windows in metallic silver paint.

“Latte della Luna?”

“It means milk of the moon,” Spica said.

“I know what it means!” Alfre grumbled. “I’m just trying to figure out why the hell anyone would name a pub ‘moon milk’.”

“I think the name came with the building,” Elias said with a nervous laugh.

He pushed the door to the pub, finding it mostly empty. Spica and Alfre followed close behind him, unwilling to stray far in the unfamiliar territory. But Elias had been here many times before, when the game was confined to his computer screen. The smell of hops and spiced wine filled his nose and made the whole place feel…homey. Even the music drifting over from a dragonling bard in the corner felt familiar. Oh, it was! How the bard was able to play the autumn seasonal theme from the game on a violin he had no idea, but he was happy to hear it.

Suddenly there was a bang from the largest table at the back of the house. Alfre and party all turned to see a young woman with wild, short brown hair (save for a long, thin braid that hung over her left shoulder) and golden eyes stand climb up onto the table. A feral grin spread over her face as she locked eyes with Elias.

“Who’s that bunny bastard with the big old ears coming through my door?” she shouted jovially. “Is that you, Elias? How the hell have you kept that damn suit of yours that clean, being out in the Wilds for days on end?”

“A butler’s secret,” Elias called back, matching her energy one for one. “How you been, Ren? Finally found out how to use that siren charm for good?”

The woman cackled and jumped from the table, landing with a heavy thud on old wooden floors. “Why use it for good when I can use it for personal entertainment? C’mere!” She wrapped her arms around Elias’ waist and lifted him up into the air with a laugh. It was an impressive feat, given how much shorter the woman was than him. “Ahhh, it’s good to see you. Literally this time. Are you actually this tall or is that the game helping you compensate?”

“I’m not that tall, Ren,” Elias argued gently. “You’re just short.”

“Bah, details.” She waved him off with a grin. She finally decided to pay Alfre and Spica some notice, her eyes scanning over Spica’s form briefly before settling on Alfre. An eyebrow quirked up. “You didn’t tell me one of your party members was a child, Elly.”

Alfre let out something that sounded like a mix between a sigh and a growl. “I’m not a child, I’m nineteen.”

“Really? What the hell happened? You part leprechaun or something?”

“One, I’m Scottish, not Irish,” Alfre snarled. “And two, you’re not that much taller than me ya rocket!” 

“Pffthahaha, where’d you find this one, Elly? She’s great.”

“In the Wilds,” Elias said. He turned to Alfre and Spica with a long-suffering smile. “Alfre, Spica, this is Ren, an old friend of mine. Ren, this is Alfre and Spica.”

“That can’t be your real name,” Alfre muttered.

Ren shrugged, that wicked grin never leaving her face. “No one knows me by my real name here, snowflake. Wouldn’t do me a bit of good. Besides, it’s a brand new world, I’m gonna go by the name I chose for myself while there’s no one to stop me.”

Alfre hadn’t even thought about taking a different name. Sure there were usernames, every online game required one, but if someone had asked for her name, she never would have thought of giving them a fake one. She frowned thoughtfully.

“Anyway, you were saying something about needing a place to stay?” Ren turned her attention back to Elias. 

“Yes, please,” Elias said with a nod. “I never bothered buying or renting a house in game, even for storage, so I don’t have anywhere to go. Alfre’s new, so she really doesn’t have a place to stay.”

Ren hummed as she considered this before turning to Spica. “What about you, Red?”

Spica shrugged casually. “I used to have a house back on Kowhai, but I gave it up when I decided to start playing on Siniy. That was only a week ago now.”

Ren nodded, and it was at that point that Alfre noticed the golden feathers braided into her hair just behind her ears as they bobbed with the movement. They were very pretty, and Alfre wondered where she’d gotten them. On a quest? 

“I’m going to let you lot stay cause I like you, Elias. But that doesn’t mean you get to just mooch. You stay in my guildhall; you help around the guildhall. I don’t care if you join the guild itself, we’ve got plenty of members with out you, but you’re not gonna eat our food without helping to stock the kitchens.”

“We understand completely,” Elias promised, turning to Spica and Alfre with a forced smile. “Don’t we?”

“Don’t give me that look, I wouldn’t have expected any other kind of arrangement,” Spica snipped. 

Alfre shrugged. “If it’s between do chores or pay for an inn, I’d rather do chores.”

Ren slapped her hands together; the clap noise resounding in the pub and causing the chatting players to suddenly got quiet and turn to see what was going on. “Great. I’ll find my brother and he’ll figure out what rooms we can shove you in.” She turned to shout over her shoulder back towards the table she’d previously been sitting at. “Oi! Ran! Get your ass over here and do your job!”

“You mean running the guild while you sit on your ass?”

The voice that replied came from a young man with surprisingly long hair the same shade as Ren’s and similarly gold eyes. However, instead of feathers he had fox ears perched atop his head, and instead of a braid on his left, his braid fell over his right shoulder. Yes, it was very obvious that Ren and Ran were related…even before you stopped and said their names back to back.  

“I guessing the names were on purpose?” Alfre snarked.  

Ran rolled his eyes as he came to stand beside his sister. “It was her idea, but everyone in the guild seems to love it, so whatever.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

Ran eyed her before grinning in a way that was far too similar to his sister to be a good thing. “I think I’m gonna like you, snowflake.” 

Alfre sighed dramatically. “That’s going to be a thing now, isn’t it?”

“Once Ren starts something, it always becomes a thing.”

Ren smirked. “It’s something of a super power.”

Ran jerked his head towards the back of the pub, where a set of stairs led up into the higher levels of the guildhall. Ran explained the floors as they went. The first floor was the pub of course, which was open to those outside of the guild. The rest of the hall was closed off to anyone without permission, which seemed to be something that could be given verbally now that the world was real. Spica and Alfre would be added to Ren and Ran’s friends list, just in case. Elias was already a friend of the twins, and had been for over a year. 

The second floor had meeting rooms and libraries for guild members to use, as well as several rooms built specifically to help built subclass skills, though if someone was a chef they’d have go down to the pub’s kitchen. The skill building rooms and libraries would be off limits to them, unless they decided they wanted to become guild members. The top floor was dedicated to Ren and the rest of the guild leaders, also known as Ran and a friend of theirs called Silver. No one was able to access the rooms there except for the three of them, but since the roof was considered a floor, anyone could pass through on their way up. The floors between were used by the guild members for just about anything. Most of the rooms were initially used for storage, since there wasn’t really a need for sleep in the game. But sleep was definitely necessary now, so the guild’s carpenters and tailors worked together to supply each room with a small bed and a set of sheets. 

“Our biggest issue has been figuring out bathrooms,” Ran said with a laugh. “Can’t quite get the plumbing to work past the first floor. So if you gotta take a dump, you’re gonna have to run down to the pub. Can’t really do showers either, but some of our members who are civil engineers or whatever built us a decent sized bathhouse out back. Ever been to one of those Japanese bathhouses?” Alfre and her party members shook their heads. “Well, we’ll have someone show you how it works. Basically, you wash yourself before you get in the bath. ‘Cause you’re sharing the water.”

Alfre made a face. The last time she’d shared bath water, she was two, and her mother and aunt thought it’d be cute if she and her cousin took a bath together. She certainly didn’t want to think about sharing a bath with strangers. But if that’s what she’d have to do to keep clean…

He showed them to their rooms on the fifth floor. They were ‘coded’ to only allow the ‘owner’ of the room in, unless the door was opened to a visitor by the owner themself. Alfre very much doubted she could fit many visitors inside. It reminded her of her dorm at university, long and narrow. The twin bed looked far more comfortable than anything she had at university, thankfully. Right by the door was a wardrobe that she assumed was much like the inventory satchel. There was a small desk along the opposite wall of the bed, with a tiny, old-timey lamp that didn’t seem connected to any electrical outlet. The walls were a neutral cream color and her furniture was made of a light, honey colored wood. Her quilt was a patchwork thing of different shades of green and blue. It looked comfy and warm. 

Spica’s room was right across the hall. Elias was down another hall completely. Alfre wondered if the rooms were separated by gender, like dorms were in the real world. She closed the door as she left, wandering back down the stairs with Spica and Elias. Ran was already down there, sitting with his sister and a young man with shoulder length, flaming red hair just a shade lighter than Spica’s. 

“You got any questions?” Ran asked.

“Yeah,” Alfre spoke up. “What’s with the atmosphere in the town? Everyone looked like they were just waiting for us to rob a place.”

Ren’s ever present smile faded into something of a scowl. “It’s a pretty long story, you might want to sit down.”

The three of them parked themselves on the long wooden bench that constituted seating at the table. Ren sighed and ran a hand through her hair, mussing it up even more.

“Have you guys experienced combat yet?”

Elias looked at her like she’d grown two heads. “We just came from the Wilds.”

Ren laughed, but it sounded forced. “Right, of course. But I’m guessing none of you died out there.”

“If we’d died, we wouldn’t be sitting here,” Alfre said.

“Well, you might be,” Ren argued. “Cause everyone who dies in combat…just gets respawed in the town square. Just like in the game.”

Elias’ already pale face lost what little color it had. Spica’s hands clenched into fists atop the rough wood of the table. 

Alfre’s gaze flittered back and forth between her friends and the guild leaders. “But…isn’t it a good thing people aren’t dying?”

“I would be,” the red haired man muttered, “if assholes weren’t using it as an excuse to rob players by killing them in a PvP match.”

Elias stiffened even more. “They can initiate PvP in the city?!”

Ren shook her head. “No one knows. Know one’s willing to risk it. No, what Silver mentioned only happens outside the walls. But that doesn’t mean bad stuff isn’t happening within the walls. Once everyone figured out there’s no way to ‘log out’ as it were, the newer players started trying to join guilds in masse. They thought the more experienced players would help them grow stronger so they could survive in the world. But the guild leaders are concerned with their own survival. Most of the kids and newbies that join the bigger guilds get swept up and shoved into easy to level up subclasses and used to help fund the guild instead. No one wants to deal with the long grind it would take to get them to a decent level. The only ones really thriving in this kind of environment are the farmers and the merchant guilds. And the Wonderlanders, of course, who are probably wondering why the Fell are acting like the world just ended.”

“The Fell?” Alfre echoed.

“That’s what they call us, according to the game lore,” Ran explained. “Because the first of us supposedly Fell from the sky.”

“Okay…why not the Fallen, then?” she asked.

Ren shrugged, a wry grin on her lips. “Because the game developers were pretentious tools, is why.”

Silver elbowed her. “You don’t know that.”

Ren shoved him back. “I do so know that! I asked the game director at a con! He said they used ‘fell’ because it sounded cooler.”

Silver rolled his eyes. “Whatever. The point is, things are shitty in the city and you probably should have found yourselves a little cabin out in the Wilds and stayed there.”

The irony of that statement was not lost on Alfre, who snorted in an attempt to hold back a laugh. She covered it up with a cough when the guild leaders stared at her. 

Elias’ ears drooped. “There’s got to be something we can do.”

Ren shrugged helplessly. “There’s really not much we could do. We’re only one guild, and we’re not exactly the kind that’s known for being badass. I mean, we kind of are, but we’re more mid-level than the other guilds, even if we have more members than most.”

“We should be worrying about ourselves first,” Spica reminded. “Just because we have a place to stay doesn’t mean our survival is guarantied.”

“It kind of is,” Alfre argued, though it sounded more like she was just thinking aloud. “We can’t die.”

“We can’t die by combat,” Spica clarified. “There’s no guarantee that we won’t die by starvation. Or exposure. Or illness. Or drowning. Or…”

“We get the point,” Elias interrupted. “But isn’t that more of a reason to make sure no one else does, either?”

“I’m all for being altruistic and shit,” Ren said. “But we don’t know how.”

“Have you talked to any of the other guilds?” Alfre asked.

“We have a few guilds we’re allied with,” Ran said with a nod. “We’ve been talking with the guild leader of Sweet Summer Children and the Knights of the Burning Oak. But that’s just two guilds. And neither of them is particularly huge.”

“Well, then find out who the largest guilds are, the ones with the most people that make up the majority of the city’s population, and call them together for a meeting. If you can convince them to come together, surely you can convince them that fixing the city is important.” Alfre suggested. 

Ren and her companions shared a look, something that seemed to say ‘it might work’. Ran shouted over to a tall, wiry looking girl with pointed ears and long, ginger hair.

“I need you to get a message to June and Atticus for me.”