The City: PuzzleLocked Book 1

Alastair woke up sitting on a bench in a boat making its way toward an island. He felt his hands chained behind his back. He didn’t hesitate. Skip cut scene.

Skip cut scene? Yes/No?

Once again, he selected Yes.

Alastair woke up on a pier in the city. The rain still fell, but less so. He didn’t hesitate. Logout!

Logout? Yes/No?

Well, at least I can speed up the logout process. But…chances are I’ll end up in the same situation again. That didn’t sit well with him. Repeating this process ad-infinitude, until something changes. Isn’t that insanity?

This time, he selected No.

He looked around at the pier around him. Manacles still bound his hands behind him. The people on either side of him all wore the same type of clothes - a flowing white shirt dress that ended at the knees, despite the size and shape difference of the characters. What sort of fantasy land is this place?

Eventually, a man with a chip on his shoulder in a heavily oiled rain cloak walked to the head of his line. He talked to each individual in turn. As he approached Alastair, a prompt appeared in Alastair’s sight.

Start Tutorial? Yes/No?

What’s he going to tell me that I haven’t already skipped in the cut scene a couple of times? Alastair selected No and his world faded out for a moment. Not again… Alastair started but then a puzzle interface loaded in front of him overlying a pair of manacles attached to his hands. The puzzle appeared as a simple nine-by-nine Sudoku grid with all but five of the squares filled in. Symbols replace numbers, but otherwise, despite his dislike of Sudoku, Alastair solved the puzzle in about five seconds.

Puzzle complete.

Attempt puzzle again? Yes/No?

Absolutely not. The puzzle interface disappeared around him as the manacles fell to the ground. He thought it nice that he didn’t have to verbalize the orders.

Congratulations! Achievement achieved: Locked! (Unlocks puzzles)

After the manacles fell off all down the line, the man with the chip on his shoulder spoke loudly. “You may obtain food and lodging from the tavern there, but only for the day. Now, be about your business.” Then he ushered a couple of pier hands to collect the chains and manacles and walked toward and disappeared into a small shack at the foot of the pier. The pier hands followed that way a moment later.

Alastair watched them go then felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Yes?” he said as he turned. Before him stood a brawny woman in a white dress. Her brown eyes glimmered, framed by her long black hair, and it appeared she was about to cry. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him.

“Alastair, please say it’s you!”

With that statement, hesitation disappeared. He pulled her close and they embraced. After a moment, he tried to pull away, but she would not allow it. {You may realize that although it had only seemed a few minutes for him, she had spent at least part of two days in this world.}

“Yes, it’s me, Beef Cake.”

She looked down at her muscles and then back at him. “I guess I must look the bodybuilder. But, you know I don’t like that nickname.”

“Care to tell me what is going on?”

She finally released him and began to drag him toward the tavern which the man with the chip on his shoulder had motioned. A few of the others were moving in that direction as well, apparently taking up the offer of food and looking for information.

Together, they worked to the counter and showed their tickets, at which the brute motioned toward the queue and told them to be patient.

As they waited, she said, “It’s not as straightforward as you expect.”

He scoffed. “We were transported to a fantasy version of Holst’s, and have to solve a quest before we can log off?” She stared at him confusingly. “I’ve read the tropes. Dungeons and Dragons. Sword Art Online. There are others. So, am I close?”

“Well, I don’t know the necessity of solving the quest before we can log off, but not far off. Add Groundhog Day and Edge of Tomorrow in, and maybe you’re a little closer.”

“Wait, what do you mean?”

“The day repeats. Events occur, as far as I can tell, in the same order everywhere unless they are influenced otherwise.”

“Ooh, weird. What do you know so far?”

“I assume you didn’t watch the cut scene, or take the tutorial.” She waited for him to nod that was indeed the case. “Well, this here is the prison island of … well, I haven’t bothered to remember the name of the island. Anyway, we, collectively, are prisoners, and are intended to bring benefit to the glorious kingdom of whatever they call it in order to restore our personal good names and be allowed to return to the kingdom at large with the tag of prisoner removed from our records forevermore. Something like that, anyway. They didn’t get into specifics and you know it always changes as you progress the storyline.”

Alastair nodded. “Okay. I guess that may determine our overall objective. Get off the island.” He looks her up and down. “And solve mysteries and steal treasures and…” he looks at his long white sleeves, remembering the others standing next to him in the chain gang “…and cast magic?”

“There’s more.”

“Of course there is. I hate it. But go on.”

“You’ve been staring blankly at a wall for the last two days. And apparently, I’ve died twice. At least.”

“Um, start with the you dying first, please?”

“The first death I don’t remember, but I think I was around here until it started to get nighttime. For the second, I was petting a cat, then got spooked by a chipmunk, and then fell off a roof.”

“You…you did what?”

Just then, two bowls of a gunky fish stew and mugs of what looked like weak beer were slammed on the table. “Next meal is in eight hours. I can show you rooms, or room, after you eat.”

Flor looked at the server and said “Thank you, Horace. We’ll let you know.” The server nodded and left.

“Did you know his name was Horace from your past lives?”

“Oh, no, never met him before. He has his name above his head. I fully expect he’ll grow a glowing exclamation point at some time in the future with a quest to solve.”

“Huh. So, cats and squirrels?” She looked into the distance for a moment, as if activating an interface. Suddenly, a tiny animal crawled out of her waist pocket, up her chest, and perched on her shoulder. Although it looked somewhat down on its luck, it had previously been what looked like a very dapper chipmunk.

“This is Kester Elliott Callach. My daemon. My chipmunk daemon. Oh, I forgot. Or maybe I don’t know. You probably haven’t set up your interfaces yet.”

It was hard not to stare at the chipmunk on her shoulder, but eventually, he pulled his eyes to hers. “No, I don’t think I have. How did you get a demon?”

“Daemon, not demon. In computer jargon, a daemon runs background programs. And as I said, I pet a cat. I think petting cats might open additional interfaces.”

“But, then you died?”

“Well, not from petting the cat. I had lost two health on the flow puzzle and then fell off the roof associated with the puzzle when Kec startled me.” {Flor had begun to abbreviate Kester Elliott Callach as Kec.}

“Want to explain next about me staring at a wall for two days?”

“I’d much rather take advantage of that room offer and rip off your clothes.”

Alastair’s eyes grew big. “And then?”

“And then after that, we’ll discuss some more about what to do next.”

“Such as.”

“Find some more cats.”