How can I describe my feelings, preparing for my first ever dungeon in Tetra Chronicles? It’s similar to how I imagine it would be getting ready for a first date: exciting and nerve-racking, thrilling and absolutely terrifying.

I’ve never tanked in a dungeon before, but I know from playing other games the tank plays an important role in a raiding party—maybe even the most important role. As the tank, it’s my job to pull monsters, to keep them trained on me, and stop them from killing off the squishier damage dealers. Meanwhile the healers keep me alive, and the damage dealers pick off the monsters one by one, safely shielded by their stalwart tank.

That’s me. I’m their tank. Hehehe.

My fellow dungeon raiders will be impressed by my aura, which automatically pulls every mob in a radius of fifteen feet. But I’m worried it won’t be enough damage to keep the monsters aggroed, so after checking the online forums, I make my way to the Dustry guardhouse. Here in the tower I find a solid little man named Brickie in the crimson and rust checkered tabard of Lord Edge of Dustry, featuring the insignia of four drawn swords, alternating up and down.

“Something I can do for you?” he glares up at me through squinty, blackened eyes. Brickie’s got the look of someone who’s lived through more than a few barroom brawls. In fact if I had to guess, I’d say he lived through an especially rough one just last night, and he’s started his shift in the middle of a nasty hangover. Though he’s a head shorter than me, I can’t help but feel intimidated as he snarls impatiently, “Well?”

“Yes,” I clear my throat, embarrassed by my squeaky response. “Ahem, yes. I’d like to learn the Aggrovating Aura Skill.”

“Four silver,” the NPC glowers. I hand him the last of my coin and a light flashes where our palms cross, indicating I’ve learned the skill. “Anything else?” he asks. I examine his list of teachable skills. Shield Bash, Whirlwind Strike, Shield Boomerang. All useful skills, but not what I’m looking for right now, even if I did have the money.

“Then get going,” he grumbles, and turns to find a seat on a rickety wooden stool in the corner of the guard tower, short arms folded across his barrel chest.

I tiptoe out of the room and get all the way to the bottom of the stairs before I check my new skill.

[Aggrovating Aura level 1: Enemies have a harder time ignoring your punchable face.

Increases threat generated when dealing damage.]

Yes, this should help me tank nicely, though I’m not sure I like the part about having a punchable face. I grab my cheeks doubtfully, then catch myself and lower my hand quickly.

Well, then. JimmyTheThird said to meet him outside the temple at two o’clock sharp, and the clock tower in the center of town reads 1:45. Guess it’s time to get moving.

It’s nearly half a mile to the temple on the edge of town where I find a few other players loitering, presumably my fellow dungeon raiders. I’d like to introduce myself, but suddenly I’m anxious, tongue-tied. Can someone like me really hold a conversation under these circumstances?

That’s when a young woman appears suddenly before me with the name Cherry1, clad in one of those short-skirted sailor uniforms you see on magical girls, complete with a huge pink bow, thigh-high socks and a pink jewel encrusted magic wand. She has candy red hair in enormous curling pigtails and big, sparkling pink eyes with shifting rainbow stars in them. On one or two double takes, it occurs to me she’s an elf.

“Hi, Revelator,” she says in exactly the voice I was expecting to come out of her. “Will you be joining us today?”

[Heart rate accelerating. 131 BPM. Automatic system shutdown if heart rate reaches 150 BPM.]

Come on, Rev, cool it, I chide myself. This is a fellow raid member. Potentially a future fellow guild member. There’s no need to get all flustered. Even if she is cosplaying a cute magical girl.

It doesn’t take a genius to know her gear, clothes and visual effects are all skins she paid for in character creation, but unlike some players, I would never look down on her for it. Actually, I think her concept’s pretty solid, if a bit over the top.

“Revelator?” she prompts me in a cutesy, singsong voice, wiggling her fingers at me. “Yoo-hoo, anybody home? Or, don’t tell me—you were struck speechless by my adorable appearance?”

“K-kind of,” I manage, and she goes all to giggles. I guess that was the right thing to say, I think, pleased with myself. Somehow, I think I’m blushing a lot.

“Judging from your gear, you must be a tank? I’m a damage dealer, of course. Look for my name in the number one spot when the damage stats come out at the end of the dungeon. That’s Cherry, you know?” she says, and she winks at me with her tongue out and does a cutesy little pose with her magic wand.

Ohmygod. Is she flirting with me right now? Have I died and gone to heaven, to be flirted with by a magical girl?

“Cherry1,” I correct her automatically, certain my face is as red as her hair.

She drops her pose and her cute face goes flat. “What?”

“Cherry1, your name. I’m guessing Cherry was taken by the time you settled on your appearance. N-not that that’s surprising, you must have taken a lot of time on it. Your character is very—”

“Very what?”

Now why do I get the feeling I screwed up?

[Heart rate 141 BPM. Automatic system shutdown if heart rate reaches 150 BPM.]

“V-v-very cute. I’m sure you’re ten, no a hundred times cuter than the real Cherry.”

“The real Cherry? Humph!” is her reply, and she stomps off to a tall man in white priest’s robes. “Dario, he insulted me! Don’t you dare let him get away with it!”

The man, also an elf, turns his head and looks down his nose at me without a word. Cherry1 hangs off of him, whining and complaining, and he endures it stiffly.

“He was so mean to meeeee!”

I wasn’t! I want to defend myself, but the words won’t come out.

“Nice going,” a man’s voice at my elbow causes me to jump. “You pissed off Cherry. That priest is her boyfriend, good luck getting heals this round.”

Wait—boyfriend? Then, did she flirt with me just for attention? Sigh. I think I probably have a lot to learn about girls…

I turn my focus to the guy at my elbow. A dwarven fighter by the looks of him, heavily armored with a black beard that spreads across his chest and flat black eyes. The character name over his head reads WilliamBurnett, and like JimmyTheThird, he has the guild name White Striders underneath.

“This your first time doing the Edgelord quests?” he asks.

“Sorry?”

“That’s the name of the dungeon, well, what we all call it. Talk to these NPCs here, they’ll give you the dungeon quests.”

He indicates to two men, both elderly and finely dressed. One wears the garb of an ostentatious priest, the other a deep red cape lined in ermine with jeweled rings on each finger. Both wear anxious expressions.

“It’s my grandson, traveler,” says the second man, Maximus Edge, Lord of Dustry. “He’s not a bad lad, our Nemo. Oh, he’s always been a bit…strange. Likes to wear black clothing, shuns society, thinks he has special powers, a unique destiny, you know the type.”

Sure, I think. He’s a chunibyo, an edgelord. Weren’t we all, at one point? 

“Well, Nemo’s always going on and on about how one day he’d make the city recognize his greatness. So I thought nothing of it when I heard he’d purchased a grimoire from a traveling salesman, said to contain the secrets of life and death. But last night we got into a fight, and he ran off with the tome and…oh, I don’t care what the boy’s done. Just bring him back safely, I beg you!”

[Would you like to accept quest: Rescue Young Lord Edge?

Reward: 5 silver]

“Yes.”

“Thank you, traveler. I shall await your good report.”

I turn to the priest, Father Pater, who has a little more information.

“This is what becomes of indulgent upbringing! That thoughtless young lordling has made a fool of himself and his great family name for years, calling himself the Lord of Darkness—bah! Now he’s run amok and desecrated the hallowed ground where our ancestors have slept undisturbed for centuries! I tell you the dead walk, confined within the gates of the cemetery, thank the gods, but it’s only a matter of time before they make their way out into the streets and throw our peaceful city into chaos. I ask you to put an end to this catastrophe, traveler, but you must beware! The boy’s own ancestors guard the crypt where he was last seen, the four Edge Lords who founded our proud city of Dustry. Formidable warriors each, in life. Perhaps even more terrifying, in death. I beg you lay them to rest once more and put a stop to all this foolishness—before the Founder’s Day festival!”

[Would you like to accept quest: Unalive the Undead?

Reward: 3 Holy Water]

“Yes.”

“Blessings of the gods over you, traveler.”

“Got the quests?” asks my dwarven companion, WilliamBurnett.

“Yeah. You?”

“This is my forth time through the dungeon.”

“Ah,” I say, eying his guild name enviously. “Guess you made it, huh? Into the White Striders.”

“Yeah,” he shrugs his powerful shoulders. “Guess so.”

“You’re not wearing the tabard.”

“Costs money.”

“You saving for something?”

“Better gear, what else? It’s why I’m doing this damned dungeon again. Last time this epic sword dropped but it went to another fighter,” he says, looking definitely surly.

“What about the guild vault, don’t they have gear for you there?”

“Costs money.”

“I see…”

Silence. Feeling a bit awkward, I look around at the other players gathered.

“These all damage dealers, then?” I ask. “Besides the healer Dario?” I indicate to the elven priest who looks on with weary acceptance as Cherry1 flirts and poses for another guy.

“This is a fifteen man dungeon, Jimmy always goes in with at least two tanks. This time I’d guess it’s you and maybe that guy,” he indicates to a green skinned half-orc sitting alone on a stone bench with an enormous shield on his back and his chin in his hands, gazing blankly off into the distance. “What’s his name? Ilovetracktors? The f*ck…” he mutters, half annoyed, half bored. I laugh awkwardly.

“I’ve seen some crazy names in this world. But you’re a bit gutsy, no? Using your real name in game. William Burnett.”

“My name’s not William Burnett,” replies WilliamBurnett without emotion.

“What?”

“1:58,” he says, glancing at his status window. “If you need any buffs, get them in place now. Jimmy doesn’t like to wait around once the dungeon starts.”

“Right,” I say, going quickly to my inventory and the various food items I have stored there. “Good idea.”

“Ah,” WilliamBurnett grunts with a sound like satisfaction, nodding in the direction of a familiar looking gnome coming around the corner. “Here comes Jimmy now…”