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Harem Knights: Vincent, The Cook

2022-06-24T23:00:17Z

2620:10D:C090:500:0:0:2:9315: Created page with " From the memoirs of Vincent, The Cook. All my life I wished to be a specialist in economics. I had few idealistic reasons to do so, but also some more down to earth. That..."

From the memoirs of Vincent, The Cook.

All my life I wished to be a specialist in economics. I had few idealistic reasons to do so, but also some more down to earth. That doesn't matter now.

What matters is that, more or less, I am a cook. Or rather, The Cook.

During the first year or so after the summon, there wasn't much cooking to do. We ate berries, half raw meat, wild fruits and even goddamned mushrooms. But beggars couldn't be choosers Especially during that dire winter, which have taken roughly two thirds of us. We lost some decent guys back then.

After we advanced, people started eating healthy. Felim and Elven cuisine isn't that bad, but it gets bland over time. Some of the knights tried their strength at the kitchen, but frankly, most of the outrealmers know almost nothing about cooking. Especially cooking for a whole castle of grown up men with high energy demand for slaying or (more likely) wooing monsters. In my previous life I always liked experimenting with various recipes and I had quite a few memorized, so more than once one of the fellow Knights asked me to make something for them. At some point I found myself in the castle's kitchens, commandeering a small army wielding spoons, ladles and cleavers. I won't say it wasn't a pleasant job – it might not have been adventuring, but it was satisfying thing to do. Makes you feel like a important part of Harem Knights Order.

Extra fun when most of your cooks are Elven and Felim maidens in aprons. Dayum.

With time, local merchants started coming to me, asking what my little cooking kingdom would need. Quartermaster has been doing good job, taking orders from our scientists, blacksmiths, engineers and the rest. He sure didn't mind when I asked him if I could start purchasing supplies by myself. “Cool man, that'll make my job tons easier. Just tell me your funding and I'll add it to my spreadsheets.” How could I not help a fellow spreadsheet enthusiast? My role might have been the Head Chief, but I was still a man of economy at heart. With the little shares of loots I was receiving, I've been investing in various businesses in our town. My first investment was in a pub, surprisingly. I never really was a fan of alcohol, but one day some guy came to me, saying he could open one for me. His name was Eric or something along the lines of that. A merchant from Mirterrah, looking for a place for good business. I must say he was convincing enough for me to make a contract with him. On my rules of course, because I was the one giving him all the funding he would need. Soon, my other investments came and I totally forgot about that man.

Days passed, people came and went, our city was expanding, I was investing... I was obliged to hire more people, check on my businesses and things like that. Paperwork began to stack, free time began to decrease and the worst part was that I hadn't found my waifu yet. I became stressed. Frustration and anger were my close friends at that time. And then came the day when I snapped.

It was early autumn. Some important diplomats from one of the neighboring countries were to visit our Order next day. The whole castle was on its toes. My kitchen’s staff was quite big at the time and there were many new faces around.
“Incompetent fools.”, I thought. More than once I yelled at them, because they were doing something incorrectly. Unsurprisingly, it added to the chaos. Hell's kitchen incarnate, one would say. The thing that broke me that day was a simple mistake made by young lamia. When I saw her actions, my anger instantly rose over the point of no return and I fell to an overwhelming urge to leave this hellhole before I would say or do something that I would regret later. Left my second in command in charge, threw apron away and went my way.

What horrible thing that girl had done, that I was teeming with anger, you ask?

She put ketchup on a hotdog.

Yes, I know, but that was the last straw for me.

In my rage I left the castle grounds and wandered into the streets of the city. I'm the type of man that will try to walk off his problems. It does wonders sometimes.

The sun was about to set and, to my demise, it started raining. With nowhere else to run, I entered a building resembling an inn. The interior was rather cozy, with a fireplace, tables for customers, and few stools near the corner. It seemed like nobody was inside. With nothing better to do I sat by the corner, not far away from the crackling fire.

“We’re closing for the night!” came from the backroom.

“Give me a break, it's pouring outside!” I yelled back.

“Guess I could take one more unfortunate fellow under my roof, but only if you buy something!” I noticed that the voice was female.

Soon enough, from the door-frame behind the counter emerged an elven maiden of long black hair. First thing that came to my mind – she was a beauty. Second thing was the fact, that she wore an eye-patch over her right eye. Later I would learn that it was a “souvenir” from her father. She was of fair build, a few centimeters shorter than me, slightly tanned skin, and simply beautiful brown eyes.

“So, what can I get you, friend? We mostly have ale, but there's also some whiskey in the back.” Her smile was charming.

“A mug of ale.”

“Coming right up.” With those words she turned away from me and bent over the bottom beer barrel.

All I was thinking at that exact moment can be shortened to simple “DAYUM”. There's a high chance, dear reader, that you'll not understand, but fellow Knights will know what I mean.

This pleasant view wasn't long and my ale was soon before me.

“Here you go,sir.” chimed the girl. With a smirk, I took a sip from the mug.

As I mentioned, I never really was an enthusiast of alcoholic beverages. Sometimes I drank a little for the flavor. But I am certain that this ale I had been served was the worst drink I have ever let into my mouth. All this time of working as a cook, where taste is the most important sense, added to that. Not even thinking about swallowing it, I spat that horrible thing to my side.

“What is this piss you’re serving?!”

“The cheapest excuse of an ale you'll find this side of the Dark Mountains. All thanks to our owner.”

“You mean that people actually pay to drink this?” I said while wiping my mouth.

“To be fair with you,” She leaned over the counter. “not really. I'm surprised we're still in business, but you didn’t hear that from me. My boss would kill me if he heard I said that.” She glanced behind me, probably checking to see if he was about to enter.

“Stupid strange...” I grunted.

“That said,” She continued, taking away my mug and replacing it with another, pouring some yellow liquid into it. “what do you say about some homemade hard cider?”

With nothing better to do, I accepted the offer and once again took a sip from the mug.

I might not have drank much in my life, but on Earth, or “Erz,” my best friend know about his drinks. He drank it all – from pure spirit, through cheap wine to fifty year old whiskey. Thanks to him I know a thing or two about alcohol. We were Best Buds. Dynamic Duo. The Army of Two. After all those years, I still miss that guy.

The thing is, this cider was amazing. It must have been written right across my face because I caught a wide smile from the elf.

“Not bad, eh? Got this recipe from some merchant passing through the town, but I changed it a little to fit my tastes.” she chimed.

“This is actually the best thing I ever drank. Beats that seven years old homemade wine my friend once gave me.” And, may I tell you, that was some goddamn good wine.

“The pleasure is all mine. The owner won’t even let me sell it. Mind if I drink too?”

“A man should not drink alone. Be my guest!”

In the following hours we drank, laughed and exchanged stories. I could feel all my anger from the evening fading away, relaxing with a pleasant companion of mine. I learned that best interpretation of her name was “Jessie”. She was one of the elves brought to Camp Waifu, after the first Teegee-Elf war. Drinks were her passion, so it was clear that sooner or later she would end up behind a counter in a pub.

At some point, as Jessie was occupied with filling our mugs, I gazed upon her.

There are moments in every man’s life, the importance of which he will notice much, much later. At that time my mind was completely blank, be it from alcohol or the sight in front of me. I had not noticed it then, but at some point, for a very short period, there was only one sentence on the edge of my subconsciousness. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished before I could comprehend it.

“I have found my waifu.”

Seconds after that, the doors slammed open. I jumped on my stool and Jessie was equally shocked and scared. I could see it in her eyes. I didn’t like that look in her eyes.

“What part of ‘close at sunset’ don't you understand?” A voice roared in our direction.

“I'm sorry sir, but it's raining outside and this sir here wanted to wait it out-”

“I don't care! And since when do we even have patrons?!” It would take me years of training to be equally gruff as that man. At the same time, I thought that I knew that man from somewhere.

“Listen pal, I could pay you double or even triple for your trouble-” I was cut-off mid-sentence.

“Have I asked for your opinion? No? Then get the fuck out of here. I think I might need to fire some of my employees for their incompetence.”

The following scene was a child of that rude man’s sentence and my quick temper, thanks to alcohol.

“Listen to me,” I stood up from my stool. “you are talking to one of the Harem Knights, the defenders and founders of this town. Our prime directive might be to find one's waifu, but that doesn't mean we aren't obliged to be chivalrous, honest, and polite. Right now, I see you as exact opposite of those virtues, pal, so you better think twice about what you say next.” Then it hit me. You, dear reader, probably figured it out already.

“I know you! You’re Eric, the merchant to whom I gave money to open up a pub!”

That line actually struck him more than the previous one. After some aggressive gestures, swearing, and threats he started to talk. In the contract that I made with him was a loophole - basically, I promised him to lend him more money, if the pub was struggling. He was a lazy bastard, so all he ever done for the establishment was shipping of cheapest drinks he could find, which nobody drank. The inn was barely earning, so every month he would go to my second-in-command with our contract in hand for more funds.

Quick lesson for people of new world.

Never mess with another man’s woman. Never mess with another man’s ego. Most importantly, never mess with man’s money. Though in the realm of Teegee, the order of importance is reversed.

He had messed with all three, I dare say.

More aggressive gestures and curses followed. At some point I literally kicked him out of the door, yelling on top of my lungs that our contract is no longer valid and that if I ever again see his face in this town, I would force all of the money he took from me down his throat.

Then there was silence. I took a deep breath, straightened my jacket, and went back to the counter. Jessie stood awestruck. I sat back on my stool and looked down my mug.

“Mind giving me a refill, Jessie?”

“Y-yes sir!” It took her a while to grasp what did I said.

“Hey, drop the ‘sir’. We drank together! It doesn’t matter that I’m rightful owner of...” I stopped mid-sentence. “What is even this place called?”

“I don’t know actually. The sign broke before I started working here. It was something about ducks, I think.” She told me in a more relaxed tone.

“Well, guess I’ll have to name this waterhole. Mind holding onto this place for me? I have much stuff on my head already, so help would be much appreciated.” I caught interest in her one eye. “Basically, let’s make this like this: I’ll make you my partner and I’ll give you free hand over this place. Just let me name it, okay?” This quarrel with untrustworthy merchant gave me a perfect name for it and I wouldn’t let it go easily.

Normally it would a be a horrible business decision, but a man trusts his waifu; even if he doesn't yet know that she is the one.

Her smile was worth more than all the gold in New and Old World combined.

Few weeks later, the whole place was buzzing with activity. Figures that Jessie had a knack for management. She had to hire some extra barmaids to run the whole place. They were of all races, in the spirit of the realm of Teegee. I soon became more than just a business partner, more of a regular. At some point, I don’t remember exactly when, she became my waifu. I kept investing in the city and I was still called “The Cook”, even though my visits at castle’s kitchens were rarer. We lived happily ever after.

That’s the origin story of “Rogue Trader”, the most popular pub with Harem Knights in Castle Waifu town.

Sir Elric

2022-06-24T22:31:53Z

2620:10D:C090:500:0:0:2:9315: /* Chapter 1: Fifty-six days */

To explain myself. I recently came upon this section, and it's inspired me to write again. So I thought that you gents should get to look at what I write here. There is more to come as I can. -Sixtus Quinn

== Chapter 1: Fifty-six days ==

'''Day Five, year 1 AA'''

To anyone who might find this, if I have passed on or far more likely, left this lying about, understand that I am not of your world. Indeed, I am from what you call “Erz”. You see, I was transported here against my will by what I can only assume was a Wizard of this land. I can only assume that he was a dick of monumental proportions.

This came about as I was at my job, working as an armed security guard at some rental complex. It was cold as hell (winter around here being what it is), with no office to sit in, I had only my car for shelter. And so since I was bored, I cruised the Internet. I came upon a link to a picture labeled “Sexy Fantasy Girl”. In a moment that I used to curse at, a picture came up of a female werewolf of all things. Or maybe it was a dog girl, I can’t remember properly. Once I had, my world shifted and moved. At first, I thought it was an earthquake, California being what it is. But then the colors shifted and the feeling of falling through a tunnel, similar to Willy Wonka in a way, but not as cuddly as the movie.
When I landed, my car was upside down. In the snow. I had banged my head hard enough that my vision wobbled back and forth. My glasses had stayed upon my head, so there was the silver lining. I heard thumps from the outside of my vehicle, multiple thumps. I could only assume that the concussion was affecting my ears and made no reply. After a moment, the driver’s door opened and several hands helped pull me from the wreckage that was my car.
After a day of rest, the men that had rescued me informed me of what had transpired. Every single guy here, and a few girls, had all clicked on the link leading to a picture titled “Sexy Fantasy Girl” and were subsequently transported here. The area was a wooded forest with a castle of all things. More to the point, there were about three thousand people here give or take. All of us were nerds of one stripe or another, with a valuable few having military or survival experience. I was one of the latter, although not much of it.

Upon arrival, those that were able to fight found the wizard residing in the castle’s keep. Mob rule took over at that point, and the mage died under the assault of nerd rage. We now found ourselves here with no way back home as of yet.

That week, I recovered the best I could and went back to my car. It was still wrecked, with several of the guys trying to take it apart. I felt angry by their attempts, but the logical part of my mind asserted itself. We would need as much as we could get in the way of supplies in order to survive out here. The tower could only take so many people. I helped them gaining access to the trunk where I kept a toolbox along with other odds and ends. The motor oil and gasoline went to keeping fires going, the tools went to the technologically minded of us. The spare jackets I habitually kept there went to others to keep as warm as possible.

Thankfully, I also kept what had been a meager “bug out bag” inside. It was barely worth mentioning, as it had tactical gear (in the flavor of vests and belts, holsters and others). But the true value was the SAS and U.S. Army wilderness survival manuals I had stashed inside, along with lengths of rope.

I catalogued the available equipment I had at my disposal once I was back at the base of the keep, out of the wind. Duty belt with one sidearm, three magazines of ammunition, one ASP baton, and one can of OC spray. Set of handcuffs. First Aid kit. Security uniform, including heavy jacket, gloves and hat. Gore-tex combat boots, socks. Wallet with various cards, a picture of myself and my sister when we were younger. Two challenge coins. Gerber jack knife. iPhone 4, and keys with assorted keys and P-38 can opener. Add one moleskein journal, two pens and the survival manuals. One green and black shemagh. And one slightly-battered twenty-five year old human male.

I walked into the Keep itself to meet with any leaders, such as there were. There was one such man, Giovanni. He wasn’t a political leader, more of a military one. We got along famously. There was also a so-called “Council of GMs”. It was worth a chuckle, and a shot at democracy. Or is republic a better term for it?

I handed over the survival manuals, and decided that someone needed to help bring some food into the group. And since I had hunting experience, I volunteered myself. It wasn’t so much volunteering as informing what I would be doing before doing it.

'''Day Fifteen, Year 1 AA'''

Finally managed to get my bow strung. Ended up using some of the thin survival rope I had in my car and the branch of a tree. Got some primitive arrows, but they won’t fly far without fletching. I wonder if there’s some ground birds nearby?

Local fauna seems similar to Earth’s, but slightly different. What evolutionary trait decided to give a boar horns as well as tusks?! Wasted five rounds of ammunition on that one from panic. Don’t want to make that mistake again. At least we have over a hundred pounds of meat. Won’t stretch very far among three thousand people. Going to make some simple loop traps, maybe a pit trap for heavier game?

'''Day Twenty, Year 1 AA'''

We’re dying. Exposure and starvation are taking their toll. It won’t be long before some of us will be buried. The tower is packed to nearly bursting capacity, everyone huddling together to share body heat.

I’m continuing to lose weight at a rapid pace, as getting enough food for two thousand people is keeping me pretty busy. That and not having anywhere near enough food to go around. Hunting in the snow is an arduous task. Got some simple traps set up now, but it’s taking more and more of the rope I have. The rabbits around here are close enough to Earth standard.

Also of note. I’ve been appointed as leader of the Scouts by the “Council of GMs”. Well, the reward for a job well done is more work.

'''Day Twenty-five, Year 1 AA'''

The funerals here have morale down. We’re losing hundreds at a time. As if the lack of food and the snow wasn’t enough, we now have enemies out in the forest. One of my hunters went missing yesterday, so I went after him. Found him a mile out, with several arrows through him. There’s something else in this forest, and it doesn't like the fact that we’re here.

The arrows, once I’d removed them, were very elegantly carved. The head was not metal, but a curious hard wood with a barb. Recovered all that I could and brought our man back to the Tower for burial.

Note: Find a way to make snow camouflage.

'''Day Thirty-five, Year 1 AA'''

The death toll is in the thousands now. Less mouths to feed, my brain tells me. I’m continuing to lose weight. With that and my constant hunting/foraging, I have had some significant weight loss. Still fat as fuck, but that's been a major factor in keeping me alive. Fuck, my uniform shirt just ripped. Heh, a weight loss program that works. If I get back, this will be a hell of a story. I wonder what my case file looks like in police records?

Need to stop rambling. Side-effect of not enough food. The new arrows fly well enough. The tower can hold nearly all of us at the moment, with the library providing fuel for some of the fires. I’ve detailed as many as I can to gather wood nearby to help keep warm, along with the sharing of body heat. It’s not homo if you’re freezing to death. I’m one of the lucky ones, I came over with a good amount of gear to keep me moving. That and body fat. Apparently, hardly anyone here knows how to survive in the wilderness. Goddamn flatlanders.

Facial hair is becoming a fashion trend around here. Looking more like a mountain man.
Need to go and check my traps.

P.S. FUCK THOSE GUYS OUT THERE. All of my traps were destroyed, with crossed arrows over every single one. The food reserves in the tower were gone in the first week, and so nearly everyone here relies upon me and others like me to keep them eating. I’m not coming back without SOMETHING. I can’t take seeing their eyes staring and hoping at me again. Not too proud to admit I cried when I found the traps destroyed. Haven’t seen any game in a week. Need to go deeper into the forest to find what we need.

P.P.S. Found the body of an Elk, it’s throat slashed along with it’s hindquarters. It had been left a half-mile away from the tower, with several tracks around the corpse. No drag marks, and the tracks look like wolves. If wolves had feet seven-inches long and five inches wide. Dragged the elk back to the Tower to much cheering. I wonder if it was an offering of some kind? And if so, by whom?

'''Day Forty-five, Year 1 AA'''

More and more of my scouts are dying, either disappearing or being found riddled with arrows. When I find out whom is doing this, I’m going to put a bullet right through their fucking face. The Elk-meat didn’t last long, but it was enough for a few days. I would take a sheet to use for camouflage if it wasn’t needed badly as bandages or bedding to keep warm. Until then, I stick out badly in my dark blue uniform. On my last sojourn… heh, sojourn. As if my education matters at this point. But on my last trip out, I found more of those wolf tracks. Looks like a single animal, keeping well clear of my traps. And I think it watches me at times. I don’t know, this forest is creepy as fuck on the best of days.
The other scouts have gathered rose hips from the local flora. Note: DO NOT EAT THE ORANGE FRUIT. Not poisonous, but gives you the runs like you had dysentery. Had trouble keeping fluids in those guys…

My scouts are down to a few dozen now, from the three hundred we started with. On the bright side, we’re a bunch of hardcore motherfuckers. One of them remarked that we’ve leveled up in the Ranger class, I told him to shut up and get back to work. But the idea isn’t bad. But the instant anyone calls me Strider, they’ll receive a kick in the nuts.

'''Day Fifty, Year 1 AA'''

Dear Mister Henshaw, there’s good and bad in my current situation. Possibly bad/bad depending on how you look at it. Bad news, while I was out hunting, a snow storm caught me in the forest before I could get back. Snow storm doesn’t do it justice really. Not when there’s lightning mixed with the blizzard. Winter’s Fury is more apt.

But I digress. I was caught out in the maelstrom, and passed out. I don’t remember much from it, only that I did so. I probably felt sorry as shit for myself. Woke up in a wolf’s den. The den was large enough to fit me and it’s sole inhabitant. Really, to give you scale, a wolf’s den isn’t very large, enough room for the wolf to stand and move around at best. But when the wolf is FREAKING HUGE like this one, it’s large enough for me to sit up and write. The wolf itself is sleeping at the moment, which allows me to take a good look at it (from a distance, I’m not that stupid). Looks to be about eight feet long, with broad feet. Probably about three-hundred pounds. Fur is all white. I think it’s female from the shape of the head, but I’m not going to check the nethers just to be sure.

My left hand aches like a bitch, with the jacket sleeve torn a small amount. She must have dragged me in here. But why?

'''Day Fifty-one? Year 1 AA'''

Must’ve slept for a good while, not sure what day it is right now. She’s sitting and staring at me, which is odd as hell. She doesn’t mean to harm me, I’m… somewhat sure of that now. She brought a rabbit from outside and left it front of me. I cut it up and tossed half to her. She… well, wolfed it down. I sliced up the other half, tossing the offal to her. She must be five feet tall at the shoulder. A dire wolf is the only word for her really. Her eyes are deep blue, which is strange for a wolf if I recall my genetics correctly.
Note: raw rabbit tastes like crap. But when you’re hungry…

'''Day Fifty-something. Year 1 AA'''

Woke up to a face full of white fur. She must’ve crept closer in the night, and I freaked out right proper at first. She just gave me a long look, yawned and went back to sleep. It IS damn cold out there, so she must have needed the warmth. The storm is still howling outside. Not going to be getting back to the castle until this is over.

'''Day Fifty-something, Year 1 AA'''

Storm finally is over, or at least to a point where travel is possible. Poked my head out at daylight. The snow drifts are huge, so travelling will be a massive pain in the ass. The wolf is up and keeping an eye on me. She seems smarter than the average wolf (shouldn’t surprise me, wolves back home were smart as hell already, add in an increased brain size from the sheer size means that her intelligence must be the level of a chimp at least, if not near human intelligence). Asked if she wanted to come with, more talking to myself at the time. Hey, it was someone to talk to after what feels like a week without human company. I could swear that her head bobbed and her tongue lolled out, breath misting in the cold air.

P.S. Now what the hell is strange is that she is taking the lead through the snow, breaking trail for me. Wolves are perfectly capable of traveling on the surface of snow. Their feet are broad enough for it. They do not need to break a trail for whatever reason. It seems that she is doing so for me. Also with her tail held as high as it is, she is definitely female. Not sure why that is reassuring, but somehow it is. This is surreal as all fuck.

'''Day Fifty-seven, year 1 AA'''

Made it back to the Castle, thanks to the wolf’s guidance. We seemed to have gathered some new neighbors here. They call themselves Felim, but they appear to be, simply put, a race of cat-people. Not goddamn joking, like people but with cat ears and tails. What kind of realm have we landed ourselves into?

P.S. When I walked into the Castle, my fellow TGers were shocked to see me. Apparently I had been thought of dead. Seven days lost in the wilderness with the mother of all winter storms raging around will make most people think that. There was some shock and wariness at my companion, who I’ve given the name of Belle. Anyway, I sat down with Giovanni who explained things to me.

The Felim came across the Castle and it’s inhabitants, taking pity upon those living there. We were down to nine hundred souls, most having lost weight from lack of food. In exchange for helping us feed ourselves, and feeding us in the meantime, we were to let them live here and settle in properly. What was interesting was learning of the outside world. There were other humans outside, all with their own nations. But there were also Dwarves, Halflings, Orcs, Elves and other monsters. Combine that with the wizard asshole who brought us here, we were smack in the middle of a high fantasy setting!

I need a beer.

Sir Elric

2022-06-24T22:28:44Z

2620:10D:C090:500:0:0:2:9315:

To explain myself. I recently came upon this section, and it's inspired me to write again. So I thought that you gents should get to look at what I write here. There is more to come as I can. -Sixtus Quinn

== Chapter 1: Fifty-six days ==

'''Day Five, year 1 AA'''

To anyone who might find this, if I have passed on or far more likely, left this lying about, understand that I am not of your world. Indeed, I am from what you call “Erz”. You see, I was transported here against my will by what I can only assume was a Wizard of this land. I can only assume that he was a dick of monumental proportions.

This came about as I was at my job, working as an armed security guard at some rental complex. It was cold as hell (winter around here being what it is), with no office to sit in, I had only my car for shelter. And so since I was bored, I cruised the Internet. I came upon a link to a picture labeled “Sexy Fantasy Girl”. In a moment that I used to curse at, a picture came up of a female werewolf of all things. Or maybe it was a dog girl, I can’t remember properly. Once I had, my world shifted and moved. At first, I thought it was an earthquake, California being what it is. But then the colors shifted and the feeling of falling through a tunnel, similar to Willy Wonka in a way, but not as cuddly as the movie.
When I landed, my car was upside down. In the snow. I had banged my head hard enough that my vision wobbled back and forth. My glasses had stayed upon my head, so there was the silver lining. I heard thumps from the outside of my vehicle, multiple thumps. I could only assume that the concussion was affecting my ears and made no reply. After a moment, the driver’s door opened and several hands helped pull me from the wreckage that was my car.
After a day of rest, the men that had rescued me informed me of what had transpired. Every single guy here, and a few girls, had all clicked on the link leading to a picture titled “Sexy Fantasy Girl” and were subsequently transported here. The area was a wooded forest with a castle of all things. More to the point, there were about three thousand people here give or take. All of us were nerds of one stripe or another, with a valuable few having military or survival experience. I was one of the latter, although not much of it.

Upon arrival, those that were able to fight found the wizard residing in the castle’s keep. Mob rule took over at that point, and the mage died under the assault of nerd rage. We now found ourselves here with no way back home as of yet.

That week, I recovered the best I could and went back to my car. It was still wrecked, with several of the guys trying to take it apart. I felt angry by their attempts, but the logical part of my mind asserted itself. We would need as much as we could get in the way of supplies in order to survive out here. The tower could only take so many people. I helped them gaining access to the trunk where I kept a toolbox along with other odds and ends. The motor oil and gasoline went to keeping fires going, the tools went to the technologically minded of us. The spare jackets I habitually kept there went to others to keep as warm as possible.

Thankfully, I also kept what had been a meager “bug out bag” inside. It was barely worth mentioning, as it had tactical gear (in the flavor of vests and belts, holsters and others). But the true value was the SAS and U.S. Army wilderness survival manuals I had stashed inside, along with lengths of rope. It’s because of those that only two thousand of us died in those fifty-six first days.

I catalogued the available equipment I had at my disposal once I was back at the base of the keep, out of the wind. Duty belt with one sidearm, three magazines of ammunition, one ASP baton, and one can of OC spray. Set of handcuffs. First Aid kit. Security uniform, including heavy jacket, gloves and hat. Gore-tex combat boots, socks. Wallet with various cards, a picture of myself and my sister when we were younger. Two challenge coins. Gerber jack knife. iPhone 4, and keys with assorted keys and P-38 can opener. Add one moleskein journal, two pens and the survival manuals. One green and black shemagh. And one slightly-battered twenty-five year old human male.

I walked into the Keep itself to meet with any leaders, such as there were. There was one such man, Giovanni. He wasn’t a political leader, more of a military one. We got along famously. There was also a so-called “Council of GMs”. It was worth a chuckle, and a shot at democracy. Or is republic a better term for it?

I handed over the survival manuals, and decided that someone needed to help bring some food into the group. And since I had hunting experience, I volunteered myself. It wasn’t so much volunteering as informing what I would be doing before doing it.

'''Day Fifteen, Year 1 AA'''

Finally managed to get my bow strung. Ended up using some of the thin survival rope I had in my car and the branch of a tree. Got some primitive arrows, but they won’t fly far without fletching. I wonder if there’s some ground birds nearby?

Local fauna seems similar to Earth’s, but slightly different. What evolutionary trait decided to give a boar horns as well as tusks?! Wasted five rounds of ammunition on that one from panic. Don’t want to make that mistake again. At least we have over a hundred pounds of meat. Won’t stretch very far among three thousand people. Going to make some simple loop traps, maybe a pit trap for heavier game?

'''Day Twenty, Year 1 AA'''

We’re dying. Exposure and starvation are taking their toll. It won’t be long before some of us will be buried. The tower is packed to nearly bursting capacity, everyone huddling together to share body heat.

I’m continuing to lose weight at a rapid pace, as getting enough food for two thousand people is keeping me pretty busy. That and not having anywhere near enough food to go around. Hunting in the snow is an arduous task. Got some simple traps set up now, but it’s taking more and more of the rope I have. The rabbits around here are close enough to Earth standard.

Also of note. I’ve been appointed as leader of the Scouts by the “Council of GMs”. Well, the reward for a job well done is more work.

'''Day Twenty-five, Year 1 AA'''

The funerals here have morale down. We’re losing hundreds at a time. As if the lack of food and the snow wasn’t enough, we now have enemies out in the forest. One of my hunters went missing yesterday, so I went after him. Found him a mile out, with several arrows through him. There’s something else in this forest, and it doesn't like the fact that we’re here.

The arrows, once I’d removed them, were very elegantly carved. The head was not metal, but a curious hard wood with a barb. Recovered all that I could and brought our man back to the Tower for burial.

Note: Find a way to make snow camouflage.

'''Day Thirty-five, Year 1 AA'''

The death toll is in the thousands now. Less mouths to feed, my brain tells me. I’m continuing to lose weight. With that and my constant hunting/foraging, I have had some significant weight loss. Still fat as fuck, but that's been a major factor in keeping me alive. Fuck, my uniform shirt just ripped. Heh, a weight loss program that works. If I get back, this will be a hell of a story. I wonder what my case file looks like in police records?

Need to stop rambling. Side-effect of not enough food. The new arrows fly well enough. The tower can hold nearly all of us at the moment, with the library providing fuel for some of the fires. I’ve detailed as many as I can to gather wood nearby to help keep warm, along with the sharing of body heat. It’s not homo if you’re freezing to death. I’m one of the lucky ones, I came over with a good amount of gear to keep me moving. That and body fat. Apparently, hardly anyone here knows how to survive in the wilderness. Goddamn flatlanders.

Facial hair is becoming a fashion trend around here. Looking more like a mountain man.
Need to go and check my traps.

P.S. FUCK THOSE GUYS OUT THERE. All of my traps were destroyed, with crossed arrows over every single one. The food reserves in the tower were gone in the first week, and so nearly everyone here relies upon me and others like me to keep them eating. I’m not coming back without SOMETHING. I can’t take seeing their eyes staring and hoping at me again. Not too proud to admit I cried when I found the traps destroyed. Haven’t seen any game in a week. Need to go deeper into the forest to find what we need.

P.P.S. Found the body of an Elk, it’s throat slashed along with it’s hindquarters. It had been left a half-mile away from the tower, with several tracks around the corpse. No drag marks, and the tracks look like wolves. If wolves had feet seven-inches long and five inches wide. Dragged the elk back to the Tower to much cheering. I wonder if it was an offering of some kind? And if so, by whom?

'''Day Forty-five, Year 1 AA'''

More and more of my scouts are dying, either disappearing or being found riddled with arrows. When I find out whom is doing this, I’m going to put a bullet right through their fucking face. The Elk-meat didn’t last long, but it was enough for a few days. I would take a sheet to use for camouflage if it wasn’t needed badly as bandages or bedding to keep warm. Until then, I stick out badly in my dark blue uniform. On my last sojourn… heh, sojourn. As if my education matters at this point. But on my last trip out, I found more of those wolf tracks. Looks like a single animal, keeping well clear of my traps. And I think it watches me at times. I don’t know, this forest is creepy as fuck on the best of days.
The other scouts have gathered rose hips from the local flora. Note: DO NOT EAT THE ORANGE FRUIT. Not poisonous, but gives you the runs like you had dysentery. Had trouble keeping fluids in those guys…

My scouts are down to a few dozen now, from the three hundred we started with. On the bright side, we’re a bunch of hardcore motherfuckers. One of them remarked that we’ve leveled up in the Ranger class, I told him to shut up and get back to work. But the idea isn’t bad. But the instant anyone calls me Strider, they’ll receive a kick in the nuts.

'''Day Fifty, Year 1 AA'''

Dear Mister Henshaw, there’s good and bad in my current situation. Possibly bad/bad depending on how you look at it. Bad news, while I was out hunting, a snow storm caught me in the forest before I could get back. Snow storm doesn’t do it justice really. Not when there’s lightning mixed with the blizzard. Winter’s Fury is more apt.

But I digress. I was caught out in the maelstrom, and passed out. I don’t remember much from it, only that I did so. I probably felt sorry as shit for myself. Woke up in a wolf’s den. The den was large enough to fit me and it’s sole inhabitant. Really, to give you scale, a wolf’s den isn’t very large, enough room for the wolf to stand and move around at best. But when the wolf is FREAKING HUGE like this one, it’s large enough for me to sit up and write. The wolf itself is sleeping at the moment, which allows me to take a good look at it (from a distance, I’m not that stupid). Looks to be about eight feet long, with broad feet. Probably about three-hundred pounds. Fur is all white. I think it’s female from the shape of the head, but I’m not going to check the nethers just to be sure.

My left hand aches like a bitch, with the jacket sleeve torn a small amount. She must have dragged me in here. But why?

'''Day Fifty-one? Year 1 AA'''

Must’ve slept for a good while, not sure what day it is right now. She’s sitting and staring at me, which is odd as hell. She doesn’t mean to harm me, I’m… somewhat sure of that now. She brought a rabbit from outside and left it front of me. I cut it up and tossed half to her. She… well, wolfed it down. I sliced up the other half, tossing the offal to her. She must be five feet tall at the shoulder. A dire wolf is the only word for her really. Her eyes are deep blue, which is strange for a wolf if I recall my genetics correctly.
Note: raw rabbit tastes like crap. But when you’re hungry…

'''Day Fifty-something. Year 1 AA'''

Woke up to a face full of white fur. She must’ve crept closer in the night, and I freaked out right proper at first. She just gave me a long look, yawned and went back to sleep. It IS damn cold out there, so she must have needed the warmth. The storm is still howling outside. Not going to be getting back to the castle until this is over.

'''Day Fifty-something, Year 1 AA'''

Storm finally is over, or at least to a point where travel is possible. Poked my head out at daylight. The snow drifts are huge, so travelling will be a massive pain in the ass. The wolf is up and keeping an eye on me. She seems smarter than the average wolf (shouldn’t surprise me, wolves back home were smart as hell already, add in an increased brain size from the sheer size means that her intelligence must be the level of a chimp at least, if not near human intelligence). Asked if she wanted to come with, more talking to myself at the time. Hey, it was someone to talk to after what feels like a week without human company. I could swear that her head bobbed and her tongue lolled out, breath misting in the cold air.

P.S. Now what the hell is strange is that she is taking the lead through the snow, breaking trail for me. Wolves are perfectly capable of traveling on the surface of snow. Their feet are broad enough for it. They do not need to break a trail for whatever reason. It seems that she is doing so for me. Also with her tail held as high as it is, she is definitely female. Not sure why that is reassuring, but somehow it is. This is surreal as all fuck.

'''Day Fifty-seven, year 1 AA'''

Made it back to the Castle, thanks to the wolf’s guidance. We seemed to have gathered some new neighbors here. They call themselves Felim, but they appear to be, simply put, a race of cat-people. Not goddamn joking, like people but with cat ears and tails. What kind of realm have we landed ourselves into?

P.S. When I walked into the Castle, my fellow TGers were shocked to see me. Apparently I had been thought of dead. Seven days lost in the wilderness with the mother of all winter storms raging around will make most people think that. There was some shock and wariness at my companion, who I’ve given the name of Belle. Anyway, I sat down with Giovanni who explained things to me.

The Felim came across the Castle and it’s inhabitants, taking pity upon those living there. We were down to nine hundred souls, most having lost weight from lack of food. In exchange for helping us feed ourselves, and feeding us in the meantime, we were to let them live here and settle in properly. What was interesting was learning of the outside world. There were other humans outside, all with their own nations. But there were also Dwarves, Halflings, Orcs, Elves and other monsters. Combine that with the wizard asshole who brought us here, we were smack in the middle of a high fantasy setting!

I need a beer.