Interlude:

The train car creaked and shook as it moved along the rail, making for a noisy and uncomfortable ride. However, Stine knew that it would have been far worse if there had been an actual engine on the train. Of course, the train would have been moving a lot faster if there had been an engine as well.

Stine glanced out the window as the New Mexico landscape slowly rolled past. It was a short but scenic ride, even if it was also uncomfortable. They were almost to their destination, Huevo Frito, a small town that had developed around a Labyrinth entrance. The area used to have another name before the Labyrinth had arrived, but Stine hadn’t bothered to remember it.

After taking a few seconds to admire the scenery, Stine looked around the inside of the small train car. His companions shared the space with him, along with all of their luggage, which mostly consisted of arms, armor, and supplies.

Frank was wearing a nice suit and had her hair up in a professional looking bun, looking more like some kind of office worker than a player. This was the look that she seemed to prefer whenever she was outside the Labyrinth.

Jag, on the other hand, was dressed in casual clothing which included a black leather jacket with motorcycle patches. He knew that she would have preferred riding into town on her bike, and would have done exactly that if it hadn’t been for the Labyrinth zone.

Stine himself wore jeans, a long sleeve shirt, and a cowboy hat, the kind of outfit that wouldn’t stand out too much in this area. He liked to blend in and avoid notice, until it was time to get loud. He smiled faintly, looking forward to cutting loose and doing just that.

“The clients are still meeting us in town?” Stine asked.

“Three of them,” Frank answered evenly. “Two from this batch have backed out.”

“Chicken shit NPCs,” Jag grumbled dismissively. “Don’t even have the balls to try improving themselves.”

Stine merely nodded at that, not at all surprised. A lot of their clients backed out, even after paying the non-refundable fee. Once the reality of the situation hit them and they stared down the idea of actually going into the Labyrinth themselves… Well, a lot of people had second thoughts.

“NPCs are all the same,” Jag spat out. “At least we made them pay up front.”

“The pay is very nice,” Frank admitted with a pleasant smile. “But you know that this is only a side business, something to help pay the bills while we collect resources.”

“I know,” Jag agreed. “If this was only about babysitting NPCs, I wouldn’t be here”

“Well, you can also think of it this way,” Frank told her with an amused look. “We are reducing the number of NPCs in the world and increasing the number of players.”

“We’re almost there,” Stine announced as he felt the speed of the train car start to decrease.

“Why, so we are,” Frank agreed pleasantly.

The car continued to slow down until it came to a complete stop just a short time later. Stine grabbed his luggage and climbed out, stepping into the town of Huevo Frito. He paused to look around, taking note of what had changed since the last time he’d been through there.

Most of the buildings were short, being only one or two stories tall with white adobe walls and red tiled roofs. There were a couple buildings that were taller and built of more modern materials, but those were older buildings, ones that had been there before the Labyrinth entrance had appeared.

Stine turned and looked back at the train, which was pretty small as far as trains went and it only had three cars. The passenger car that they’d just emerged from was in the middle, while the car at the end was for hauling general supplies to and from the town. And then, at the front of the train, there was the handcar, where two players pumped a crank to move the whole thing along the tracks.

“When are we supposed to meet the clients?” Stine asked, turning his attention back to Frank. “You said that we’re supposed to start our delve tomorrow morning.”

“They should already be here,” Frank answered, only to pause and gesture off to the side. “In fact, I see them now.”

Stine looked up and saw three of the men that he’d previously met. They were dressed in similar military style fatigues as the last time, though one of them had a gun strapped to his hip. The player chuckled faintly at that since the weapon would be completely useless there much less inside the Labyrinth itself.

“Hey,” the leader of the group greeted them as he approached. “I was a little worried you might not show.”

“We have an agreement,” Frank responded, taking the man’s hand and shaking it. “And I take that seriously.”

“Good to know,” the man responded with a nod of approval.

“You’ve already met Mitch, Jack, and Antony,” Frank said to Stine and Jag, gesturing at the three men.

Mitch was the leader of their little group, not that this meant much to Stine and his companions. He was a white guy in his mid-thirties, with well-tanned skin and rough stubble on his jaw.

Beside him, Jack was an athletic guy with a short military-style haircut, a couple years younger than Mitch. He was the one with the gun, though Stine could also see three separate knives on his body.

The last of this group was Antony, a stocky man with dark skin and a short black beard. He was giving Jag an appreciative look, though he hadn’t bothered flirting with her. Fortunately for him, he was wise enough to read her body language.

“This is Stine and Jag,” Frank told the clients. “They’re very good at what they do.”

“I should hope so, for what we’re paying,” Antony muttered.

“We’re going to find our room and unpack,” Frank continued pleasantly, ignoring Antony’s comment. “Afterwards, we’ll meet up for dinner and then discuss the plan. We will be leaving first thing in the morning.”

---------

Stine stood in front of the Labyrinth entrance, staring at the shimmering tear in space itself. Even after five years, he still wasn’t used to the sight, and he doubted that he ever would be.

“There’s something seriously creepy about that thing,” Mitch commented from the side.

“It’s a doorway to another dimension,” Antony reminded him. “Of courses its weird. This is literally as alien as it gets.”

“You’ll find weirder on the other side,” Frank said.

Stine looked around at the group, each of whom was armed, armored, and ready to go. Well, he and his crew were ready to go, but he was less confident about the clients. The clients were never as prepared as they seemed to think they were.

At the moment, Stine was dressed to fight. He wore leather armor over most his body, though he had no sleeves. Instead, he wore metal bracers on each of his wrists. His only weapon was a knife, though he rarely ever used that to fight. No, he was a brawler, one of the warrior variant classes. His class was all about punching things…hard, fast, and repeatedly.

Jag wore similar armor, though she also wore her leather jacket over the top. A pair of large knives hung from her hips, ones that could almost be considered short swords.

And then there was Frank, who wore a suit of leather armor that had been dyed red. Her armor had chain mail and metal pieces mixed in to give additional protection, and her hair had been pulled back into a braid to keep it out of the way. A large axe was held I one hand with a casual ease.

The clients, Mitch and Anton, were both dressed in more of their wannabe military garb, with the kind of gear that soldiers might wear into combat. At least, the kind that soldiers on Earth might wear. However, their weapons were a little more reasonable. Mitch had a compound bow with a quiver of arrows on his back while Anton had a crossbow. Both of them carried katana style swords, though Stine wasn’t confident in their skills with the weapons.

As far as Stine was concerned, neither of them was properly trained or equipped. Not for the Labyrinth. Then he reminded himself that the Labyrinth was sink or swim and always had been. Their preparation…or lack thereof, was not his responsibility.

“So,” Antony asked, looking directly at Jag. “What exactly do you guys do?”

“I kick ass,” Jag snapped back, her eyes narrowing dangerously, “and I don’t bother taking names.”

Mitch and Antony stepped back, a little surprised by Jag’s vehemence.

“That was how your friend Jack ended up in the infirmary last night,” Stine told them. “Asking questions he shouldn’t have…of someone he shouldn’t have.”

“Players are very protective of their privacy,” Frank explained with an almost predatory smile. “Especially respawned players. If…when you become players yourself, you may appreciate that a little better.”

“Sorry,” Antony apologized, holding his hands out as he tried to calm things down. “I didn’t know I was crossing any lines.”

“Just something to remember for the future,” Frank told him. “Especially when you’re talking with players you don’t know.”

“Cool,” Antony responded with a serious expression and a nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Now, before we go in,” Frank said pleasantly.

With that, Frank pulled out a pair of bronze colored metal rods, each about a foot in length and with crystals embedded on the ends. These were scepters, simple in design and identical to each other. Stine had been offered one of those as well, but he’d turned it down. He didn’t like to use scepters.

“You may use these while in the Labyrinth,” Frank said as he handed the scepters to Mitch and Antony. “Consider them a loan from our supplier.”

“Are we ready now?” Jag asked impatiently.

“Yes we are,” Frank responded, swinging her axe through the air once before she turned and marched through the Labyrinth entrance. Everyone else followed right behind her.