Page 1 of The Glass Unicorn, Part 1 (Quest Wars #1)

“I can’t believe I’m a freaking elf,” I said. “I wanted to be a Symcat.”

I was the proverbial cat lady and, even though I was between cats of my own—my beloved Arwyn had died, and I wasn’t quite ready to find a new furbaby— of course , I wanted to play a cat-like character.

But, apparently, I had made a mistake when I created my character.

Now, I was stuck as an elf. There were no do-overs, no oopsies, no re-rolls in the real-life game of Abarria.

I stared at my forearms. Apparently, in this world, elves had visible muscles. My biceps looked like I’d spent months in the gym. My forearms were ripped. And my abs…they were the abs of my dreams—flat and ridged, with nice curves on my hips and bust.

But for all that, I was no Symcat.

Stepping to the side of the launching area—where we were phased into the game—I checked out my clothes.

Ornate leather trousers that fit like a glove, a leather and metal bodice that left my abs open to the air, lace-wrapped boots with brass fittings.

A bow and quiver of arrows rested on my left shoulder, and on my right, I carried a backpack.

In my real life, I probably could barely lift it.

But here, the weight was minimal. A sharp dagger rested against one side, strapped to my belt.

At least Abarria Game-Guides had gotten my class right. As far as I could tell, I was a ranger.

“Well, I guess that’s what you get for multitasking,” Thornhold said.

“Hey, I can watch TV while I create my character,” I said. “Well, I thought I could. Anyway, let’s see what we have here.” I tapped my watch and waited till the screen read Ready . “Hello? Anybody there? This is Erenye Green.”

A moment later, the Game-Guide’s voice crackled out of the speaker on the watch. hello ms. green. what can we do for you?

“I made a mistake. I didn’t mean to choose an elf. I wanted to be a Symcat. Is there anything I can do now?”

i’m sorry, but according to the contract you signed, you agreed to the stipulation that we cannot make any changes once you have been transported into the game.

we’re positive that you’ll enjoy your adventure, though, and we encourage you to give the elf character a chance. The voice echoed around us.

I sighed. “Well, so much for that.” I thanked the Game-Guide, then shrugged. “I suppose it could be worse. I could have accidentally turned myself into an orc.” And that was a choice I wasn’t prepared or willing to play.

“I’m sorry, Erenye.” Thornhold shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Hmm…”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t get it,” he said. “I thought leather armor would be easy to wear, but it’s already chafing. And I’m sweating. A lot. ”

“What did you expect? Dwarves are sweaty. Remember the Hobbit? You didn’t really think you were going to smell like roses, did you?” I snorted.

“I suppose not. It never occurred to me during our weekly games.”

Thornhold and I, along with three other friends, got together every week to play the table top version of Abarria, and we all played in the MMO online.

“Well, it is what it is,” I said. “I’m an elf, you’re a dwarf, and we’ll just have to embrace it. Let’s see what the rest of the party decided on.”

We were standing at the top of a hill, at the launching area where players entered and exited the games.

We were downwind of what looked to be a village.

It was early morning, and the sun was rising rise crimson against the lemon and robin’s egg blue sky.

The world of Abarria stretched out before us.

It seemed like a miracle, and in some ways, it really was.

I was so used to seeing it on our gaming consoles that it felt surreal to be standing in it.

At that moment, the wind swept past, assaulting our noses with a rank smell, like an overripe outhouse.

I grimaced. “Sewage? Really?”

“They don’t have sewer systems here, I guess. Remember? We signed up for the basic package. We don’t get the Golden Castle level until later.” Thornhold reached down and scratched himself.

I stared at him. “Did you just scratch your balls?”

“Um…yeah. I’m sorry—I didn’t even realize I was doing it,” he said, blushing.

He was four-ten and bushy-haired, with a long beard.

Normally, he was five-eleven, with blonde hair and pale skin.

He was also my gay boyfriend. In other words, when either of us couldn’t get a date for an event that called for a plus-one, the other was oath-bound to fill in.

“Well…I guess dwarves aren’t so fastidious. Norse mythology backs me up.” I looked around. “Where are the others? We all paid for this. You’d think they wouldn’t be late?—”

A buzzing sound interrupted me. I jumped, looking around. There, about three feet away, a figure was beginning to phase in.

“Here we go,” I said. Our gaming group—five of us—had signed up for the “adventure of a lifetime” from Abarria Game-Guides Limited, and I was eager to get on with it. We’d paid a fortune for this, and I was determined to get my money’s worth.

The launching pads in the portal bay shimmered as two shapes began to form in the air.

Scotty, beam me up, I thought.

“Incoming,” Thornhold said.

The shapes coalesced. Of course, Brynn was exactly as I’d pictured her character to be.

A tall, ice blonde, fully bulked up Viking shieldmaiden, with a braid that fell to her ass.

She, too, was wearing leather armor, but her stomach was fully covered.

Outside of Abarria, she was a systems analyst for our office, but here, she was a warrior.

On the other landing pad, a skinny wizard appeared.

Reggie was wearing a robe that looked like it combined a Gandalf costume with a bathrobe, and he was carrying a staff.

He looked a lot like he normally did, except instead of short brown hair and a clean-shaven chin, he had long straggly hair and a beard that reached his chest.

“Brynn, Reggie! You look great!” Thornhold said, waving his double-bladed axe in the air.

They darted off the landing pads and turned.

“Ray’s right behind us,” Reggie said. “He’ll be here in a moment.”

Even as he spoke, the launching pad lit up again and our last member appeared. Ray shimmered into view. He was wearing what looked like a Friar Tuck getup. Ray was our cleric.

“Hey!” I motioned for everyone to gather around. “Looks like we’re all here. Let’s plan out what we’re going to do.”

“Wait, you’re an elf ?” Reggie asked.

I nodded. “Apparently I was either too focused on the TV while I was creating my character, or I drank a little too much wine. Whatever the case, I can’t change it now, and I’m fine with that.”

We moved away from the launching area. It was player etiquette to give incoming parties space.

I looked around as we moved off to the west. While PVP—player versus player—was a given and going to happen regardless of the rules, there were heavy fees if you seriously wounded anybody who wasn’t a Sym—a creation of the game, and you’d be banned for life.

We were standing at the edge of a hill. To the west, down the slope, a large forest spread out as far as we could see. To the east was Dusmaria, the stinky village. To the north—a massive mountain range. To the south, a swath of open grassland.

“Well, what do we want to do first?” I asked.

“Do we have any money?” Thornhold asked.

I shrugged off my backpack. The others followed suit. We had opted for the “basic supplies” plan, given how expensive the trip was.

“Let’s see what we have.” I began sorting through my backpack.

Rope. Flint. Water bottle. A supply of protein bars to help me get through the next few days.

A roll of toilet paper—one of the few nods to our everyday life.

A bedroll and light blanket. A rain poncho and a small first aid kit.

A leather pouch containing ten silver coins, along with one gold coin.

I also had a small pouch filled with little drawstring bags. Inside were a few spell components.

That’s right, I thought. In this world, rangers had basic woodland magic. I could cast minor healing, tracking spells, a faerie-fire light spell, and a few others.

Everyone else had the same supplies, except those who worked magic—Reggie and Ray—had different spell components, so we were good to go. Our weapons were different, and our armor and clothing.

“Where do we want to take our chances? In the woods?” I asked.

“I think that might be the—” Thornhold stopped as a man’s voice echoed out of our watches.

dungeon master takes delays. you have one minute to clear the launching area. i repeat, you have one minute to clear the launching area.

Crap, we had to boogie. The Game-Guide had spoken .

“Haul ass,” I said. “We have to get outside the perimeter.”

The perimeter was the half-acre area surrounding the launching pads, marked by paving stones buried spoke-like in a circle. Another player group must be on the way in.

“I think we should go to the village. We could pick up a few more supplies. I don’t want to get caught out in the wild without enough—” Brynn paused as a voice echoed around us.

sixty seconds… fifty-nine… fifty-eight… fifty-seven… fifty-six…

“Run!” I grabbed up my pack, bow and quiver, and headed for the border of stones. The others scrambled as well, but in his haste, Thornhold tripped and landed hard on one knee.

“Ouch!” He scrambled, trying to get up.

I ran back to help him but the relentless countdown continued. It didn’t help that we had no idea what would happen when the clock ran out.

twenty-one… twenty… nineteen… eighteen… seventeen…

“Get up!” I tugged on his arm, helping him up. He managed to scramble to his feet and we sprinted for the border, but before we could reach the others, who were waiting on the other side of the stone circle, the clock ran out.

you have failed to clear the area.

As the voice echoed out of our watches, a loud noise sounded behind us.

I turned, catching my breath as I looked up into the face of a scruffy looking creature. It was eight feet tall, pinkish, with a flat nose, a large mouth that was filled with sharp teeth, and one single eye in the center of its forehead.

“Yikes!” Thornhold said. “What the hell do we do?”

I fitted an arrow to my bow and prayed that the skill transferred to me when I was transported into the game would be enough to stand up against the Trogger—a combination of troll and ogre. As I took aim, it loomed down on us, and I thought the game was about to end before it could start.

But at that moment, Reggie bounded past and held out his staff.

“Flame-blades!” he yelled, and the fight was on.