asked.
“I'm Perrin, the town scribe,” the bald man said. His eyes darted about nervously. “But that doesn't matter. You need to get off the street. Now!”
I glanced at the others.
Thorm shrugged. “He might have information we can use. Let's pay him a visit.”
To Perrin I said, “We're coming in to talk. Don't worry we're friendly.”
“Friendly right up until he mutates into an acid spewing monster,” Mudhoof said as we filed through the building's only door.
The inside was as quaint as the exterior. Simple furniture and knickknacks. Everything had the look of being hand crafted.
A stairwell led up and Perrin appeared at the top. He regarded us with obvious nervousness.
“What business do you have being here?” He asked, giving Mudhoof furtive glances. Probably had never seen a minotaur before.
“We're, uh, adventurers looking to help out,” I said. That was true enough. I could have told him we were human players logged into a game where he wasn't even real. But where was the fun in that?
Perrin mulled this over. “Well, if you think you can help, it would be most welcome, but I don't know what good it would do.”
“What happened here?” Thorm asked.
“It all started with when that black tower appeared. It grew right out of the ground at the end of the valley. Then people started acting strangely. Getting angry. Fighting. But it got worse. Much worse. Everyone began to develop black veins in their skin.”
“Everyone?” I asked and shot Mudhoof a meaningful glance. The minotaur frowned with concern.
“Yes. Everyone except me. I don't know why. So I hid in the cellar here for several days, thinking it would all clear up on its own.” He chuckled nervously. “Foolish, I know, but where else was I to go? I only emerged this morning to see what had happened. Empty streets. No people. Then a few hours ago I heard the most horrid screams and shouts coming from the town square.”
“What happened there?”
“I don't know. I'm too craven to go look myself, but the screams stopped a short while ago. Terrifying.”
“Let's go check out the square,” Mudhoof said. “Beats hiding in here.”
Perrin's eyes went wide. “No! The noises alone were terrible. It sounded as if people were being eaten alive!”
Mudhoof laughed. “Now this I got to see for myself.”
Before I could suggest a more cautious approach, Mudhoof went back out into the street. Thorm shrugged and followed. Feign looked to me.
“Not the wisest approach,” the ice mage said. “But we best go after them. Safety in numbers.”
As Feign and I left the building I said to Perrin, “Stay put and don't go near the windows. We'll set things right soon enough.” The game usually gave extra experience points if you treated the non-player characters like real people.
“You poor fools,” Perrin said, shaking his head sadly. “You're going to your doom!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Once back in the empty street we all filed in behind Mudhoof who made his way toward the center of town.
“I hate skulking around,” he said by way of explaining himself.
“Then you'd make a lousy thief,” Thorm said with a smile.
“True enough,” Mudhoof said. “But I can't stand waiting for things to happen. Got to forge ahead. We still have that other group out here somewhere and I don't think they'd be spending their time stuck in a building talking to an egg-head.”
Before anyone say anything else, Mudhoof held up his hand. “We're here,” he said.
We entered the town square. It was large and tiered down by several levels like a stadium. On the lowest level, at its center, sat a well. A strange set up by any medieval town's standards.
But that wasn't the strangest part of all.
There were people here. Hundreds of them. They looked to be townsfolk and all of them stood bunched together in a big