Immersion

Immersion
Overview
Immersion tells the story of a WoW player inside the world we created, through roleplay as a community, that initially just wishes to go back to his own world, but finds himself to be the centre of a battle for balance.

Index
Part First
Part Second
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Part 1
There it was. The ivory monument, stained by age, that I had seen so many times before, but that today – that peculiar today – seemed so monstrous, so towering. So godly. Robed acolytes made their way up and down the weathered carpeted steps. Some of them had stopped to take a silent inspection of my foreigner’s clothing. Seeing no choice but to persevere on my plan, I started to climb the way towards the entrance to the Cathedral of Holy Light.

Once inside the majestic halls, supported by white columns of stone, I was in a completely new place, but at the same time knew exactly where to go. To the right, the first entrance to the right wing room. I crept along the halls, keeping myself shrouded in the dark corners, scared to disturb those kneeling, visible by candlelight. A few steps more and I could hear my destination before I could smell it. The pained moans and cries of the injured ringed my ears, and the smell of blood and pus penetrated my nostrils. For the better part of five minutes, I stood at the entrance of the infirmary. The only thing that kept fear from winning the struggle was the realization I had nowhere else to go.

The infirmary was so similar to what I had imagined, but yet so unfamiliar. The room was wide, supported by four columns. The main walk-way was the centre of the room, turned into a corridor by the amount of beds, cots and sheets on the floor of each side of the quarters. More often than not, these would be occupied by twisting and moaning patients, stained with blood around their yellowed bandages. They reached out into the air in night terror, clawing for a drop of relief from the torture of healing. Most of the infirmary was lowly lit by candles, with the exception of the wall opposite to the entrance, clearly lit by lantern and torch. There, to the left, stood a desk, with two chairs, riddled with papers, ink pots, quills, open letters, and parchments. To the right, was a wooden table, reddened with old blood. Leaning over this table was a figure. Cloaked in dark purple garbs and hooded with the same colour, the figure rolled and tightened a bandage around the arm of a man, squirming in agony. His pain was clearly lit. The caregiver gave the gauze one last tug, and turned, with bloodstained white cloth gloves, to me. The glowing eyes, the mask, the tabard... I knew it to be him. I managed to let out a weak request:
“Dr Rentarn Finje?... I need your help.”

-----

Part 2
The doctor looked at me from across the desk, in silence. He seemed not to be bothered by the constant moans and cries of his patients, not one bit. When he moved his arms, I almost jumped out of the chair to run away. Run away very fast and very far away. I just wanted it to end. I wanted to go back home. Rentarn brought his arms up, and pyramided his fingers, supporting his elbows on the desk. As he contemplated my request, I glimpsed at his correspondence and paperwork: letters to Northrend, inventory for herbal supplies, unfinished books riddled with annotations on the side, letters to the Stormwind Council, and a wax-sealed letter addressed to Ledg—
“Another world.”
I almost jumped again. My heart was racing, and the piercing gaze set upon me wasn’t helping. I nodded more than needed to, nervous.
“But I see you are human. How can you be from another world?”
Rentarn’s voice was grave, but pondered. Somehow his frustratingly calm way of speaking – taking into account the horrible howls of pain the patients around us occasionally let out – was soothing and comforting. My pulse started to slow, and I was relieved the doctor did not throw me out his infirmary, branding me a trickster or mad.
“In this... other world... we have humans too.. I mean, we’re all humans...”
“All humans? There are no other races? That’s quite bizarre.”
“You’re telling me...” I managed to calm down as my voice was replied with the same pondered voice. “Look, doctor, this may sound crazy, but... This world, around us, isn’t real. It’s all a game. A videogame.”
The doctor stared silently at me. I continued before he really would kick me out.
“It was created by this company called Blizzard, and this guy named Metzen. He made all of you.”
“And what aid do you ask of me, regarding this?”
“Ah, right... You see, I’m kinda involved. I’m a player. A player is someone who plays the game and controls characters. And you, doctor... Are my character.”
I don’t know how much time Rentarn stared at me when I finished saying that... But it was more than enough time I would have had to type an answer, if I knew what to say.

I liked this. It's nuts and I like it.

Reminds me of Blindmary's story in realm forums ^^

It's nuts and I like it. Smile

Thanks!

Nayan wrote:Reminds me of Blindmary's story in realm forums ^^

I saw that too, and when I read it I thought it was a fantastic concept. Though, unlike Blindmary, I'm focusing on the IC WoW the community created, rather than the game itself with all its mechanics and so on.

XD

Very -very- cool. Just love the whole situation :p

Loved it.

Perhaps Rentarn's reaction would be something similar to this?

The truth was a burning green crack through my brain. Weapon statistics hanging in the air, glimpsed out of the corner of my eye. The paranoid feel of someone controlling my every step. I was in a computer game. Funny as Hell, it was the most horrible thing I could think of.

"As I drew upon my divine faith.. Green numbers starting pissing in a cascade from the torso of my patient. The numbers were over nine thousand"

Do write more m'dear! Reminds me of the story you started posting on the OTS forum last year. Also I like seeing the infirmary described, brings it to life a bit after all those times Annie's ended up in there watching Ren patch someone up!

"Of course... It all makes sense now! How Hogger keeps coming back! We're not insane!"

Part 3
I sat on the Cathedral steps, defeated. I did not really expect to succeed either, so I did not beat myself up too much about it. If someone came next to me while I was working and told me everything I’ve known and grown with was a lie, I think I wouldn’t jump the gun and believe it either.
“Ehm... Huh…”
I lifted my head from my hands and looked up. A fairly young man was standing a few steps above me. He wore a white robe and the Disciples’ tabard. He seemed more nervous than me. He also looked terribly familiar.
“I… erm… heard you say this whole world was a… game?” The man fidgeted with his robe. It was Jean-Pierre d’Armgnac, no doubt about it. I stood up to answer him, somehow managing to speak up clearly, as if his hesitation made me look determined and brash.
“Yes. It’s all a pretend world.”
“And… erm… how do you know about this, s-sir?”
“Because I come from another… world. A world where we can see everything everyone in this world does. Azeroth is our game.”
“Then… how come you’re here?” Jean-Pierre seemed to calm down, after realizing I didn’t bite.
“I… have no idea.”
It was just another normal day. I got home, went to the kitchen for a sip of juice (from the bottle of course), sat at my computer, and logged on into Warcraft. And the next thing I realized I was standing in the Cathedral Square. I don’t recall any flashes, or warp holes, nothing. It was like a dream, the more I thought about it, the less I recall. Maybe that was it. Maybe all this is a dream. I turned to Jean-Pierre:
“Is this a dream?” He lifted his eyebrows, fiddled with his robe and answered.
“Not for me, sir.”

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Part 4
My reflection on the Canals’ waters was a perfect visual metaphor of my situation: blurry, confusing and shitty.

I walked along the water towards the bridge that crossed it, in the distance. Stormwind City was much bigger than what I was used to in the game. On my way I avoided people moving with me, holding bags, crates, guiding horses and pack mules. Everyone seemed busy, and everyone knew where to go. Stormwind City was indeed bustling with activity. Jean-Pierre told me that the Dwarven District was due northeast, and that if I got lost I could always ask the guards for directions. The only useful piece of information, therefore, was his pointing of what direction lied northeast.

As I reached the stone block island where the Dwarven District was inserted the sun was already setting over the Cathedral’s highest towers. The skies slowly turned red as I made my way towards an entrance through the walls into the district.

After ten minutes, coughing had become a habit for me. The district was packed with civilians with crates of weapons, armour and other heavy looking equipment. Dwarves shouted outside their stores, trying to captivate people to their excellent deals on iron tools, locks, and other iron works. The atmosphere was filled with a darkening smoke that stole what little light there was, and with the sounds of hammers, forge-blowers, flames and grunts of muscular blacksmiths. The floor was littered with nuts, oil, scraps of metal, rusty iron links, and screws. Even though everyone seemed very busy and hard working, my clothes and bag made them occasionally eye me for a second, before going back to working on their shipments before the nightfall.

The district’s planning was bigger and therefore much more complicated to navigate. There were main streets crowded with dwarves and humans, and alleyways and tight streets, leading to outdoor markets, repair services and other craftsman posts. I asked a human that sat on a barrel which direction southeast was. After being set right by a local, I finally stood before some wooden steps and an open door. Some tough looking patrons were smoking outside, and they eyed me suspiciously. I looked up at the sign, made difficult to see by the smoke and ash:
“The Smoking Blade.”

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Loving it, from poor Jean-Pierre to the Dwarven District smog... and that you've brought the Blade into it! <3

I love this. The description you use to well, describe the surrondings, is amazing. That's how I see SW as well, and well, it's amazing. Do keep up the good work, I'll be following this with intrest!
Also yay, The Blade.
"Some tough looking patrons were smoking outside, and they eyed me suspiciously."
That made me giggle a bit ^^

Part 5 - Now with 20% more flashbacks

The doctor kept starting at me, sinking me further into the chair. The silence was eventually broken with a particular gurgling scream of a patient. Rentarn looked past me and rose. I looked over my shoulder to a man in white, facing away from me, over a cot where the twitching patient lied. I looked back up front, not wanting to see more than I bargained for. The doctor moved over to the source of the agony, as I went back to inspect his desk from where I was interrupted: A letter addressed to Ledgic Caan. An idea rushed through my head and I grabbed it without thinking of the consequences. I looked at the letter on my hands.

I looked up from the sealed parchment up to the general scenario of the Smoking Blade. The air smelled of alcohol and cheap tobacco, and was fogged with smoke. The floor was sticky beneath my feet and there were empty mugs all around: over the rails, on the tables, on the floor… Somehow I imagined the Blade to be much cleaner. Then again this was a tavern, and not a very ‘sober’ one.

The patrons that sat on the tables were busy with drowning their thoughts in booze and smoke, in the shaded corners of the tavern. Crooked dwarves and scarred humans leaned over the tables, silently rolling dice, murmuring or simply holding their heads in depression. However, there was a source of commotion over at the bar: laughs, loud talk and mugs being harshly set down on counters. From where I stood I could make out two figures behind the counter, all female. One was short, thin, but toughened. She had her hands at her hips, talking to a man with towering dark armour. The other was a red head aswell, sporting a pony-tail, a tad shorter than average too. They all caused a ruckus as they served drinks to the patrons, ogling from the other side.

“'Ey sunshine, wha' can I get ye?” I was asked when I got close to the counter, avoiding placing my hands over a puddle of spilt beer. I looked at the barmaid, already used to the feeling of familiarity. After taking an awkward moment to eye her clothes and haircut, I realized I stood before Aniane Fox. I had the urge to ask for mead, but realized my wallet didn’t have gold coins inside.

“If ye wan’ to stare some more ye're going t' have t' drink somethin' luv'.” I snapped out of the daydream, looking at Annie. After a glance at the patron that looked menacingly at me for interrupting his chat with his favourite drink dispenser, I asked:
“I’m an envoy from Doctor Rentarn… erm… I need to give something to Mr Caan.”
“Ye do, do ye, fella?” I quickly turned my head to a third figure I had missed behind the counter, shrouded in the darkness under the stairs, sipping whiskey from a mug saying ‘Brandy Here’.

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Spot on with the Blade - I've always thought of it as darker, dirtier, and dingier that it looks in-game. I love the line 'crooked dwarves and scarred humans leaned over tables,' and your descriptions of Annie and Nox and Led! <3 Avidly waiting for more!

Really enjoying this so far and.. yeah, I laughed pretty hard at the "brandy here" glass.

Loved it! Keep it up!

Beautiful stuff...And alittle worrying, I would hate to end up in the Undercity, Human and right next to Vectoria.

Thank you all, seriously. Having my noob work complimented by expert writers is both a [Epeen Booster of the Tiger] and great support. <3 Srsly u gais.

Part 6
I followed Ledgic down a couple of muddy wooden steps, into a small division with a cosy fireplace. The piles of unwashed mugs, bottles and plates on a stone counter, the shelves of "washed" ones, and the dirtier floor led me to believe I was in the Blade's kitchen. Then again I already knew that. Ledgic had already broken the wax seal and was reading the letter, leaning against some open crates that previously held kegs of rum. I took the chance to eye him knowing he wouldn't eye me back. He was young, altough the smoke and alcohol had given him a couple of extra years to his face. He had remnants of an unshaved beard slattered around his face, and a cropped black stubble on his chin. He sported a black headband right below his hairline, most of it concealed by the two wings of charcoal hair that fell around his head down until shoulder lenght. Ledgic donned dark leather clothing, held in place by a multitude ofbelts and small buckles. On his waist - and probably in concealed locations - he had sheathed two wicked looking daggers. The weapons reminded me of who I was facing: a criminal ring leader. On the game I was someone he would never raise his hand against. Here, I was unknown and possessed a body so easy to dump somewhere.

"A'ight. Tell Ren I'll do it." I woke up from my thoughts, and found him staring at me as I was staring at him. I felt like nodding and just running away, before my windpipe was 'encouraged' to be filled with blood. But somehow I mustered the courage to speak.

"There was another thing..."

"Yeah?" Ledgic set the letter aside and eyed me while sipping from his wedding gift.

"The doctor told me you were... very streetwise..." I choked when I saw Ledgic's brow frowning curiously. Immediately tried to misdirect. "I-I guess that is one of the perks of being the manager of a... tavern in such a busy city..."

Ledgic looked at me for a moment, as if waiting for me to just drop on my knees and admit I'm a spy. I quietly breathed of relief when his eyebrows leveled again. "Annie takes care o' tha', fella. But yeh, go on. What's it to ye?"

"I would really benefit from knowing... if there is word of... a strange magical anomaly, like a portal oppening around in Stormwind somewhere?..."

Ledgic shaked his head, placing the now empty mug aside. "The Cartel ain't bright 'nough. Tell Rentarn to not worry 'bout magic from them. Ta' answer yer question tho', nah. Nothin' I heard."

I didn't really understand the reference to the Cartel, another criminal ring in Stormwind, but I pulled my ashes from there.

"Doctor Finje still wants to be sure, mister Caan... Do you know of any mage that specializes on..." I thought about what I was going to say, making it look like I was trying to remember what Rentarn supposedly said to me. "World jumping?..."

Ledgic coifed his stubble and grumbled to himself. "Ye migh' want ta try the Mage Park, or District, whatever they call it. Not m'cup o' whiskey to go there anyway. I heard o' a mage tha' was laughed out th' Council chambers fer sayin' somethin' 'bout how the 'weave o' th' world' is collapsin'. Ren told me th' ministers didn't have time fer doomsayers, so. His name's... Zedlo, or Zeldo, or somethin'. Gnome. Figures."

I nodded slowly, theorizing my coming to this world wasn't unnoticed. Maybe I went through that collapsed 'weave'. With magic you can't really tell. It was worth a shot. I tried to get away from Ledgic the fastest and most cordial way possible, though he paid no heed to my bows and 'thank you's'.
I rushed out to the Dwarven District, dark as ever. Nightfall had already settled and the only light came from the lamp posts scattered around, some of them unlit. The sounds of hammers and forges were replaced with the quiet whispers of drunk patrons with mug in hand trying to persuade women to escort them back home, and the metallic footsteps of the guard patrols. After some directions and a warning that I shouldn't be out at night on the street by a guard, I was on my way to find the Mage Tower and the humiliated gnome that resided inside.

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Loved it, as ever. Two parts espeically had me laughing out loud;
"The Cartel ain't bright 'nough."
And
"he sounds of hammers and forges were replaced with the quiet whispers of drunk patrons with mug in hand trying to persuade women to escort them back home,"
Which again, is just how I envision the Dwarven Disctict. Keep it up!

So I just read this with Led sitting next to me, and we think it's great!

Lolific. Hope you peeps are having a blast over there in that developed hell hole. <3

Part 7
“Who are ye? And this time, the truth, lad.” The question had the point of a blade on my gut as an ally.

I threaded through the canals at the peak of the night. The moon was perfectly round and pale, and either much bigger or much closer than back on Earth. The moonlight illminated the calm dark waters of the canals, disturbed only by the occasional chilly breeze. The only people outside were sitting against the walls and crates, either sleeping their day of drinking or contemplating their shattered and homeless lives.

A creeping feeling kept accompanying me through my journey to the other side of the city. Footsteps, sometimes heard above, sometimes heard from two different sides. I breathed of relief whenever I saw a patrol of plated guards, oil lanterns in hand and conversing between themselves, loudly, but hearing their voices certainly calmed my nerves. The feeling would come back though, as soon as they passed by. I started to rush my step, tripping over my own feet. I sealed my doom when I fell on the floor, near the Cathedral. I hastily looked around for both guards and my shadower. A hand gripped my shoulder and I whipped my arm in a shove as a reflex. I hit someone's face and heard a grunt of pain. I crawled away and turned to see Jean-Pierre holding his nose.

“Jean-Pierre? Are you following me?”

“N-no... sir, I saw you fell...”

“Oh.” I quickly got up and walked to him. “I'm sorry, I think there's someone following me... I don't think I'm too used to this world yet. That must be it.”

Jean-Pierre got up, holding onto my arm, and tilted his head back holding his nose. He slowly walked the steps up back to the Cathedral. I watched him go up, and once he disappeared into the darkness of the Cathedral's entrance, I had sealed my doom yet again.

I was shoved back-first into the Cathedral's side walls, outside. My attacker was hooded, and kept me in place with a strong grip to my shoulder. With his free hand he unsheathed a dagger:

“Who are ye? And this time, the truth, lad.” The question had the point of a blade on my gut as an ally.

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I like what I've read so far. You have a very nice and pleasurable style of writing, well done !

This is so very enjoyable to read! The descriptions of all the places in the city do so much to bring it to life. Very well done ^^

I absolutely -love- this story. I'm very captivated by it!

Please continue it!