Monroe

Chapter Three. Blue Boxes.

Chapter Three. Blue Boxes.

Harv carefully approached the man laying on the ground. He gently nudged the prone figure with his staff. He delivered a few more nudges, each more forceful than the previous until he finally delivered a solid swat on the man's ass.

"I think he's out," Elli said from across the room, where he was sweeping up crystals into a pile with his feet.

"Caution saves the Adventurer," Harv quoted back. He leveled his staff at the man and furrowed his brow in concentration as for a split second, a black beam solidified between the tip of his staff and the prone figure as the man was encompassed by a black aura. The aura vanished as suddenly as it appeared, and the remains of the rats that covered him quickly crumbled to dust and sloughed off him.

"Why couldn't you just have Cleanse like everyone else?" Elli grumbled as he continued to shuffle his feet, a small pile of shards having accumulated for his efforts.

Harv sighed. "I've told you, I was raised by my grandfather, and he didn't know it." He gave Elli a hard look, and went on, "It has only become well known and popular over the past couple generations, all the old-timers used Ashes."

Elli raised his hands in surrender as he continued to methodically gather up the shards. "I'm just twisting your beard."

Harv waved away the apology, "Ah, I get grief for it all the time, but I just don't want to spend a point on cleanse," he replied as he started wedging his staff under the man.

With a grunt of effort, Harv levered the man over, and Harv and Elli got their first good look at him.

"Well, he looks human to me," said Elli.

Harv nodded and started carefully patting the prone figure down. "Never seen clothes like these before, and he doesn't seem to be armed - not even a knife," he reported in a puzzled tone.

Elli gave a slow nod as he continued to shuffle his feet. "There has to be a couple of hundred crystals here, and they all look the same size, so probably all level ones..." he trailed off.

Harv produced a small section of rope and flipped the man back over before starting to tie his hands together. "He doesn't have any wounds, despite the fighting and the blood, and if he was level one he would have leveled by now, right?" He asked Elli as he tugged the restraints tight.

"It has to be a child's protection, but how?" Elli asked as he began to shuffle another pile together, now directly next to the bound figure.

"Eh, whatever the case, it certainly qualifies as an anomaly, and bringing him back meets the very letter of the guild request," said Harv as he started gathering the neat little piles of crystals Elli had left on the floor.

Elli gave a sharp nod, and he smiled to himself as he said "And besides the normal hundred shard reward, Thidwell offered to shepherd us to two hundred at level crystals for bringing the anomaly back!"

Harv returned a grin at Elli and responded "No one ever brings back an anomaly, hell we usually don't even find out what caused a spike in the first place," he gave a short bark of a laugh and finished, "I'll bet Thidwell never thought they'd have to pay out, the cheapskate."

Elli leaned down and started picking up the crystals that formed the last pile. "Two hundred at level crystals, Harv!" he said gleefully.

Harv wandered over with a mostly full pouch and waited for Elli to dump the rest into it, saying "You know that will put me to level ten."

Elli dumped the crystals into the pouch then his eyes went distant as he looked down, and his fingers made motions like turning a page in a nonexistent book. "Me too," said Elli as his eyes refocused and he smiled a wide, genuine grin. "Stars, it'll be nice to get below the eighth level of the Dungeon."

Harv patted his friend on the shoulder, and then scooped up the unconscious man over his shoulder. "Still, gotta get him back before we start using the crystals eh?"

With a shared laugh, the two adventurers started walking back down the tunnel.

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Bob winced as a throbbing migraine drew him from the sweet grasp of Morpheus. He tried to reach up and massage his temples only to find that his hands were apparently tied behind his back. He blinked past the pain and opened his eyes.

Advanced System Integration complete.

Please acknowledge receipt of messages by speaking or thinking "Message receipt acknowledged"

Fucking blue boxes.

Blue boxes with words?

A fucking shit load of blue boxes.

He groaned and closed his eyes, but the blue boxes were still there, hovering in his vision, slightly left of center.

He started to read the messages, noting that each box seemed to, for lack of a better description, 'minimize' and zip over the left after he read it.

"What the fuck," he muttered as he stared at the last message.

"Sounds like our new friend is waking up!" said a voice to his left.

Bob turned his head and squinted his eyes towards the source of the sound. He blinked, squeezing his eyes shut hard, then opened them again.

Nope, the wizard with the staff was still there, a chunk of meat on a plate in his lap, sprinkling salt, or maybe seasonings onto it.

"Water?" another voice spoke to his other side, and he turned his head again, too quickly this time, causing the migraine to flare up in glorious agony.

Bob winced, closing his eyes, focusing on his breathing, and waited for the pain to subside.

"I bet he's got a hell of a headache Elli," said the wizard in a conversational tone.

"My grip slipped on the way up the rope!" protested the voice to his right, before continuing "He really is quite solid for looking so slender."

Bob risked opening his eyes and found a man, maybe around his age, offering him a drink from what looked to be a leather-wrapped canteen of some sort.

Bob immediately noticed two things. First, the man was clearly another renaissance fair nut, and second, his mouth was parched and crying out for fluids. He gave a slow nod towards the canteen and parted his lips.

The canteen was placed to his lips and upended. Bob choked a little but greedily swallowed the blessedly cool water.

"Thanks," he managed to croak out.

The two figures looked at each other. The wizard shrugged and said, "Ever heard that language before?"

The other man shook his head slowly.

"Gracias" Bob tried. All received was a quizzical look.

"Danke?" he offered.

"Spasiba?" he threw out in desperation. Bob only knew a few phrases in Russian.

The wizard finished seasoning the slab of meat, attached a handle to the plate somehow.

Robert looked around, having exhausted his attempts at communication with his... rescuers? Captors? He wasn't quite sure.

They were in a small clearing in a pine forest. At least the trees looked like pines. They definitely had needles, although the color was off somehow. Almost too bright of a green. He was sitting on fallen needles, although apparently, he was lucky enough to not have any pine cones jamming into him. Overall it sort of reminded him of a ride he had taken to Washington state his sophomore year. The shipping dock he'd worked for had sent him to a small but brand new dock near the edge of Mt. Ranier to show the new guys they'd hired there how a dock should work. It was the closest thing to a vacation he'd ever had. They'd given him a cot in a storeroom, and there had been a shower in the drivers' break room. He'd been free to wander around at the end of each day, and he'd gone hiking a bit through the woods to the north of the dock.

He blinked as the wizard pointed his staff towards an exposed stone a few feet away and...

An eight-inch tall flame danced on the rock, happily burning without fuel. The wizard extended his plate-turned-pan into the flames and the hiss and smell of searing meat permeated the clearing.

Bob closed his eyes, controlling his breathing.

'That was clearly a wizard setting a rock on fire with a magic staff,' he thought to himself. 'Also, I am clearly no longer in Illinois,' he continued his train of thought.

'I was not blown into the basement of Fermilab,' he finished his train of thought.

"Ok," he muttered to himself. 'I'm in a place where magic exists and is used so routinely that it is considered a normal way to cook dinner,' he thought firmly, trying to cement that bit of altered reality into his mind.

'I've been rescued from the room of unending rats by these two,' he opened his eyes and gave them each a considering glance.

'They are wearing clothing that is not mass-produced, despite the neatness of the stitching. They don't speak any of the languages I speak, and I don't recognize theirs at all,' he concluded.

'I'm going to have to force myself to consider everything in the light of scientific inquiry,' he finalized.

'But first, blue boxes.'

'Message Receipt Acknowledged' he thought firmly and clearly.

Welcome Robert Whitman to the System! Please Mentally project or Verbally Articulate the word Menu.

'Menu,' Bob thought firmly, ignoring the train of thought that would lead him to wonder how the blue boxes knew his name.

Menu Status Inventory Options Help

This, he considered, was far too close to the menu's he'd seen on that rare occasion he'd been able to play a video game on the ancient computers in the school library back in high school.

'Status,' he thought firmly, then jerked his head back as a veritable wall of blue filled his vision.

Name Bob Level 0 Tier 5 Size 5 Str 5 Cord 5 End 5 Int 5 Wis 5 Beauty 5 Health 25 Mana 5 Armor 12.75 Mana Regen 1 Damage 15.3 Spell Casting 0

'Ok,' Bob thought as he looked at the blue box. Not to put too fine a point on it, but this looked like a character sheet from a video game. It was always fun to imagine yourself as a hero, but Bob couldn't help but feel a little letdown. Level 0?

'Focus,' he thought to himself and breathed deeply and slowly.

'Help,' he thought firmly.

Welcome to the Advanced System Integration Help Menu!

Due to your specific sub-species never having been introduced to the System before, the System initiated an advanced scanning protocol that viewed and recorded your memories to establish baselines for your species. Your arrival by way of a transdimensional rift placed you into uncertain circumstances. The System applied the Child's Protection protocol to prevent your life from ending while the System integrated you. Any System regulated sentient above level ten can remove this protection at your request. Some damage was done to your matrix while the Advanced System Integration was in process. You have been given access to an Inventory. For further information, merely Mentally project or Verbally articulate "Help "

'Alright,' Bob thought, 'That is a lot to unpack.'

'I've been made part of a system. Apparently, Humans from Earth are unknown. The System can not only read my mind but can also review and record my memories,' Bob took several slow careful breaths. 'Also, I would have died from rat bites had the System not given me "Child's Protection", which I am going to assume, until further information becomes available, kept me alive, as it certainly didn't stop the rats from biting and hurting me.'

Bob shuddered.

'Damage was done to my matrix - I don't know what that means, and I have to assume it isn't a good thing. Ignoring it until more information is available. Also, I was given an "Inventory",' he finished.

'One thing at a time, Help System', he thought.

System Help System Version 2.54821 System World Thayland System Language English (Human, Subspecies Earth, Derivative United States of America, Further Derivative California

'Well that is helpful,' Bob thought as he perused the information.

'Help Childs Protection,' he mentally commanded.

Help Child's Protection Protocol This protocol is only activated when a sentient creature below level 1 has been placed in life-ending danger. The protocol is only present on worlds with an ecosystem danger rating four or higher. Note that this protocol doesn't prevent harm or pain, but instead places a rejuvenation effect in place which prevents the subject's health from dropping below one. This protection is removed when the subject is returned to their full health and within the immediate range of members of their own species. Should members of the subject's species not be available, the subject can request a member of another species remove the protocol, although the sentient must be level ten and agree to remove the protocol.

'Ok,' Bob thought. 'That explains why I need someone to remove it as there aren't any humans from Earth around.'

'Help Inventory,' he thought firmly.

Help Inventory Inventory is a pocket of dimensional subspace that is linked to an individual. An individual can place an object into their inventory by touching it and thinking 'Store' and concentrating on the object in question. There are no limitations on weight, however, the object in question must be able to physically fit into the inventory space of the individual. An individual can access their Inventory by either Mentally projecting or Verbally articulating the word "Inventory".

Bob tried very, very hard not to consider the ramifications of a dimensional subspace being attached to him. Quantum entanglement? No! Bad Bob. Focus.

'Inventory'

Inventory Space for Robert Whitman. 1000 Cubic feet available of 1000 Cubic feet total.

'Holy fucking shit!' Bob thought. Each of those squares represented one cubic foot.

'Calm down,' he thought to himself. How is this useful in my current situation?

'Store,' he thought firmly and concentrated on the rope tying his hands together.

Immediately a tiny representation of a knotted rope appeared in the first square of his inventory, and his hands were free.

'Good to know, I can free myself whenever I would like,' he mused as mentally concentrated on the rope being back on his hands, and finding his hands once again secured behind his back.

'Ok, how do I get rid of these boxes?' he thought.

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