I just want to get to work

>>979848
>March onwards, try to chat with whoever that person is.

>>979848

You might want to check out the /qst/ board... Good writing quality, though.

>>979863

Oh sorry, thought I was in /tg/ for a second there. Carry on.

>>979848
>March onwards, try to chat with whoever that person is.

Without hesitation, you carry on, shielded in the invincible certainty that nothing can go wrong.
Very soon, you’ll meet the gorgeous woman you were waiting for, with a sculpted body, fine curves, an angelic visage and… a thick beard, apparently.

Turns out the person walking towards you was another guy. Your faith in your ability to control lucid dreaming started to waver, but you kept a hold of yourself, greeting the traveler.

“Good morning, sir! How are you on this fine day?” you asked.

“Mind your fucking business, you scrub,” he replied, without even looking at you.

Why would he be so rude to you? Or call you a scrub?

“No, no this all makes sense,” you realized. “I am dreaming to be inside that one videogame I was playing yesterday night. I suspected as much earlier, but now I am sure. After all, that’s the only place in which I am called a scrub.”

Somewhat relieved, you followed the path outside of the forest and through virtually endless plains.

“So I am inside Medieval Clash Online, huh? Sweet. I’ve seen a few fine NPCs around, I can’t wait to…”

You stop your blabbering abruptly. There’s something strange in front of you. A football-sized clump of green slime is baring its gelatinous teeth at you, growling in an attempt to look and sound more menacing.

You shrugged. It’s a mystery how you haven’t met mobs and critters earlier, but this is Medieval Clash Online after all. It wouldn’t be an MMO without all the tedious grinding.

A few months ago, you would have scoffed at the idea of ever engaging in such a Sisyphean task, but with time you’ve come appreciate its relaxing properties. It would definitely be much funnier with a party, and yet even your fellow beginners shun you.

You’re killed a thousand tiny slime balls, an authentic genocide. In fact, you probably hold a Hitler-like status among those creatures. Maybe the little dude in front of you is angry because you killed his childhood friend, or something.

Now, what will you do?

>Kill it, as usual
>Ignore it, you have places to go
>Try to tame it
>Write-in

>>980040
>Try to tame it

>>980040
>Try to tame it
Slime for best pet.

>>980040
>Try to tame it

>>980049
>>980060
>>980062

You reach for your left pocket in your jute trousers and produce a few grains of animal feed. The game has this ‘taming’ skill which allows you to make retainers out of enemies, and while yours isn’t particularly high, you invested a few points in it just for fun.

It looks like it paid off, though, as the slime ball eagerly eats the meal you’re offering, gurgling in satisfaction. Looks like its childhood friend wasn’t worth avenging, after all. You pet it on the head, and then with a whistle you invite it to follow you.

You breathe out in satisfaction. Having a companion makes you feel less lonely, and even more excited than you used to be. Only one thing worries you, in the back of your mind: the fact that you haven’t woken up yet.

People do say that the time flows differently in dreams and in real life, but this is taking to another level. More than anything, you’re afraid to wake up late and miss the meeting at the bank you’ve been planning for the past month.

“But that won’t happen, will it? Of course not,” you try to reassure yourself, laughing nervously.

You try to keep your wits about you. It’s difficult, considering that you have a short sword hanging from your right side and a chainmail over your body, but that’s the kind of thing that happens in a dream, right?… Right?

An occasion to dispel your fears presents itself a few hundred meters ahead of you. Two fellow adventurers are loudly arguing with each other, about a topic you can’t seem to fully grasp or understand.

The argument however does involve a fair share of epithets and derogatory remarks, as is customary, and it seems to be quite a heated one. You wonder whether it is prudent to interrupt them with trivial questions.

>Try to talk with them anyway
>Wait until they're done talking, and then ask your questions
>Ignore them, disturbing them would be too risky
>Write-in

>>982899
>draw short sword and threaten them

>>982899
>Try to talk with them anyway

>>982899

>Try to talk with them anyway

You muster your courage and boldly move forward. You have a sword by your side, and in any case, this is all a dream. It’s all a dream Galvanio, all a dream, it can’t be otherwise.

The two fighting men are now growing closer and closer, and their shower of reciprocal insults doesn’t show signs of stopping. You stand in between them and clear your throat loudly.

“Excuse me gentlemen, do you happen to know what the time is?” you ask, your palms sweaty and your voice stuttering, as you struggle to keep your composure. You have asked an utterly stupid question, but that’s just what you do under pressure. Perhaps you should work more on your self-control.

“Who is this guy?” the man on the left inquires.

“I don’t know,” the man on the right answers, seemingly no longer interested in fighting the other fellow. “Why don’t we bring him to princess Marianne?”

They draw their swords at once, and that’s when you realize that they’re stronger and better equipped than you are, probably even a few levels higher. You gulp, thinking of what to say to persuade them to let you go.

“Hm, I am sure you have gotten the wrong fellow, gentlemen. Besides there’s no need to threaten me with your swords, I will follow you to the princess willingly,” you stammer.

The two adventurers exchange looks, then move behind you and put their swords against your back.

“Sorry mate, ain’t gonna trust ye on this one,” the one who was on the right says. “Yer gonna follow us, and we’re gonna make sure of that.”

With your hands held high and escorted by the brutes, you walk back into the forest where a few men are gathering around a beautiful woman.

Her hair is dyed an unnatural bright pink, and her clothes match that color.
‘Is this a person or a cupcake?’ you sarcastically remark in to yourself, given that expressing that opinion out loud would probably entail a quick and painless death.

“Princess Marianne, we brought you a prisoner!” one of your jailers proudly proclaims.

“Ah, let him come closer, I am going to interrogate him,” she placidly responds.

But something isn’t quite right. You have heard that voice before, and not just once. You have heard it very often in the past, basically every day.

That voice… belongs to your secretary, Mary Jopkins. Is this dream replicating her voice and assigning it to a person who seems to be as annoying as as your secretary is?

What if you were really transported into the videogame, and not just you, but the rest of the players too? In that case, maybe the person in front of you is miss Jopkins. Still, do you dare exposing her for who she is, and risk your life?

>Do it
>Play it cool, she will recognize us anyway
>Write-in

>>983570
>Play it cool, she will recognize us anyway

>>983570
>Play it cool, she will recognize us anyway