Who I am in real life doesn't matter; who I am in the game is what counts.
Before it happened, I bumbled my way through the virtual reality massively multiplayer online role-playing game The Greenwood, made crap builds, and wasted my time.
Then I got murdered. A shadowy figure took my hard-accumulated possessions and left me to die. I admit, I did a rage quit and deleted my character. Then I wondered what kind of person that rage-quit made me? Maybe I was a quitter? And maybe I really was someone who would let a bully get away with disrespecting me?
But then again, no: I respected myself too much for that. I rolled a new character, I vowed to get good, and re-entered The Greenwood. I took on the name Barcud and the profession of ranger. I vowed to rise through the levels, hone my skills, hunt down the shadowy figure, and grind his face in the dirt. This is my story.
