What is it you really want, a Soulmate or just a Perfect Warrior?

Where Allie discovers that Gnome built ships have Low ceilings

It was a very good thing that Alice was sat in the boat when she fainted; the River Vinder is not a forgiving one, the strong undercurrents dragging even the strongest swimmers to its depths.

“... What was that? Where did those voices come from?”

“You don’t know? After all that ‘oh we know what we’re doing’ stuff?”

“I wasn’t saying that, the Elders were saying that. I’m just as confused about all of this as you are Your Highness. Maybe more, this is my first time away from the Circle’s Tower since I was an infant”

“Can we please have this discussion aboard ship, we did hear a battle earlier. I would much rather be on the two-hundred-and-forty-eight gun warship made from ironwood if their friends turn up over being stuck in this effectively unarmed launch made of spun glass and resin. Those two might like to try it, but they are enlisted, I am an officer and am expected to show a little forethought.”

The Queen of Bats was quivering with excitement as her enemies’ commander lead them blindly into another ambush, but so far only her lieutenants had gotten to have fun with these feeble humans and their pathetic Pale Elf whores. Now however, the Half-Elf general had lead his (worn out) personal troop right past her hiding place, leaving them wide open to a rear charge from her (fresh and rested) unit of True Elf paladins.

The Elves tore through the humans, each of the dying knights fed the Queen’s magic, and she unleashed it in a blast of blue energy and swarms of bats, reducing the unit to just the (now even more pale) half-breed commander. But, just before she falls on him, his mirror polished shield shows her reflection. Only instead of the sharp, angular and deep indigo face, above highly decorated armour, there is a young, confused looking human girl, wearing quite eccentric clothes...

Clinton Terrell, Sheriff of Touchdown, Arizona, formerly Captain Clinton Terrell, US Cavalry, and his unlikely deputies; a Mexican Vaquero, an Apache huntsman, a Chinese gold miner, and, honest to god, a Train Robber, had had one hell of a day. The lizard-like creatures who have had the town under siege for weeks had been driven off, and he and his “deputies” had pursued them to their... fort...

After dispatching the guards, his team moved towards to door, where in its smooth metal surface, they saw their reflections... or not in the Sheriff’s case. Instead of his aged and rugged features and well-worn uniform, he looks at the image of a young girl, wearing peculiarly coloured trousers and an oversized, sleeveless denim shirt that’s covered in patches of elaborate artwork... and she is looking back at him with all the same confusion that he feels at it...

Agent 57 was having fun; the foreign agents acting against her and her team had fallen quickly to her peerless marksmanship, and nothing and no one stood in the way of her recovering the assets from the “secure” facility. While stalking through the corridors she spots a civilian looking girl moving through it too, seemingly following her and disappearing at random... then she saw the mirrored door, and the trashy biker-punk looking girl stood there matching her...

 - WARGAMES SIMULATION IN PROGRESS - MYRMIDON TWO-ONE DOUBLE THREE REPORTING - MID-ENGAGEMENT UPDATE: RED TEAM LEADING IN OBJECTIVE POINTS SIX HUNDRED THIRTY TO ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY - NEW CONTACT - OUTFITTING SUGGESTS CIVILIAN NON - COMBATANT-CLASSIFYING AS NON-HOSTILE - - - - ERROR - - - - CIVILIAN IS REFLECTION - - - - ERROR - - - -

“Surely you can think faster than that!” The old master with terrifyingly wide eyes doesn’t let up, launching flurries of blows with his staff, and I am only able to block two out of three of them. “Your purpose is too great for you to fight against yourself while also fighting your enemies.”

“Then what would you suggest, you’re the teacher, teach.”

“You must release yourself to battle, let yourself immerse into the flow of combat, only then can your warrior spirits join with your true self.”

“What the smeg are ‘my warrior spirits,’ is this some sort of metaphysical douchery?”

“Look around you, they are waiting for you to accept them.”

I turn around, to the four waiting people... characters... the characters I was playing as last night just before all this started. But each of them is slightly transparent, and inside them is another... me... or is other me’s wearing the characters... “Just what is all this?”

The old master has stepped up beside me, only he has taken the form of a mid-30’s woman in a flowing gown, and her voice has changed to match, “They represent skills and abilities that you will need over the course of these events.”

First to speak is the Spy/Assassin in the skintight catsuit, “We are here as extrapolations of your gaming abilities into the real skills they represent.”

“ - THREAT ANALYSIS OF THE FUTURE REQUIRES AN ENHANCEMENT OF YOUR MARTIAL CAPABILITIES - ” And of course the post-human cyborg super soldier has no indoor voice.

“I guess that makes sense, if some back-asswards prophetic dren is throwing me up at a global level threat, I could do with a bit more combat experience than 3 sessions at Air Cadets.”

“Not just combat, a whole platter of other skills, awareness and emotional support... you are not the most stable individual.”

“Riiight, because adding D.I.D. on top of all the other fracked up smeg in my head seems like a massive improvement.”

“We are already part of you, all that is happening is the little bits of headspace where you store your skills and ingame attitude have had the actual skills that your skills represent added. You have talked with us for years, you heard us, felt us as you played, this is not that differe...”

“~Master! ~ Apprentice! ~ Heartborne, 7th Seeker ~ Warrior! ~ Disciple!~”

... Is that my alarm?...

“~ In me the Wishmaster! ~ Riddly Diddly Diddly Dum~”

I’m in a bed... was all that just a dream? Eyes open and... where the fuck am I? Turn off that bloody alarm first, now where’s my vest... and the rest of my clothes?

“How do you shut this noise off? Corporal Proudgrip mentioned it, but I thought he was joking.” There’s another of those Halflings sat next to the bed, and she’s holding my phone...

Well obviously the rational thing to do would be to calmly take it from her and cancel the alarm (which means I’ve only been out for about 2 hours), but I am clearly not the most rational of people, both in general and in this overarching situation in particular (mainly due to culture shock and not knowing what the smeg is going on). So I grabbed and wrapped the sheets around me and tried to stand up and run away...

...

~CRACK!~

“OWW! Really?!? A three foot high roof?!”