I went left again as I reached the top of the first flight. The landing circled the entirety of the stairwell, and a thin layer of dust on the polished hardwood floorboards didn’t seem to have been disturbed in quite some time. The whole room was lit by the north-facing windows, revealing a spectacular view of the hill behind the house. Six doors headed away from the landing, two on each of the remaining cardinal walls. The first door, directly opposite the flight I had used, opened into a large study that I had assumed the McCoys had made use of. Two large wooden desks had been located facing each other underneath a large double window. One Patchwork leather executive chair was pushed under its desk, while the other was rolled back as if the occupier had simply left it be when they last stood up from it.

  I approached the desks to find them covered in piles of papers, a mix of reports, hand-drawn maps of various islands and one of an archipelago which looked almost identical to the one I had been shown for the Navigator test, only without names on any of the islands. This might help me to get to Landing, but I would need more information…not to mention a boat. A quick look at the reports revealed overviews of the various islands, but nothing immediately valuable. Sadly, in my quick look, I also didn’t find a map or a report for the island I was on. The desks’ drawers contained additional stationery.

  On the wall next to the door, there was an oil painting of a distinguished older couple. Him stood behind her chair. They were dressed much as I imagine Victorian-era explorers would have dressed. There was something about her face, like an older version of the echo, Wendy, that made me wonder if this was what they looked like when they came here.

  The next room was a sitting room. There were the remains of a log fire on the south-facing wall. Several ornamental cabinets were spread across the northern side. Spread evenly around the room, there were portrait paintings of two men and two women. Each held a marked resemblance to the McCoys. Surrounding those paintings were several landscape pictures of them with a partner and children. In front of the fireplace, two comfortable-looking armchairs sit angled towards each other, with the skin of a large beast laid between like a large, fluffy rug. The skin had become the bed of the largest rat I had yet seen, at least twice the size of the ones I had fought downstairs. It was on its back, paws in the air, twitching. I could hear the low rumbles of its snore. A trail of soot stemming from the chimney to the rug revealed how the rat got into this room. I carefully closed the door as silently as I could. I had a suspicion this would not be an easy fight, and I should come prepared for it.

  The doors on the southern side of the stairwell led to another large open-plan office which stretched across the full width of the building. The cubicles had been broken down and shifted into piles on the east side of the room to clear a space on the west. A fireplace sat opposite the one in the sitting room, probably sharing a chimney, and there was a gramophone on a table with a box of records near it. Along the southern wall, there were several doors mixed in with large windows, leading out to the balcony.

  I stepped out onto the balcony and looked around. There were ten small tables surrounded by four metal chairs, reminding me of an outdoor coffee shop sitting area. I imagined if indoors was an office area, out here was where they came for lunch or tea breaks. The seasons hadn’t been kind, but nothing a good cleaning wouldn’t fix. Combinations of debris, leaves, and probably animal droppings made it look untidy. I was about to head back in when a beam of light just hit something shiny at the right angle to catch my eye. I found a small key on the ground near one of the pulled-out chairs. I dropped it into [inventory] before looking out onto the town below. I loved the view. I wondered what it had been like when this place had been occupied, when the large port was being used, and the buildings were a hive of activity.

  Institute of Further Technology and Engineering. The passage from the diary had said they were more than just a place of learning. A research institute as well? A university? I leant against the railing, and contemplated if I would have enjoyed spending 3 years studying technology with this view…nah…I probably wouldn’t have appreciated it back then…probably be practically living on the beach…

  From here, I had a better look at the bay the dock was located in, the cliffs circling it like protective arms, allowing for several piers to be jutting into the relatively calm waters. In the far distance, I could just make out a sail. What did shipwrecked people use to do? Smoke signals? I should add making a signal fire to my list of things to do…which would also mean finding a source of firewood…right, I’m expanding my to-do list, first I should finish exploring this place and knock something off it before it gets too long.

  The first door on the eastern side of the building was the bedroom. There was a pair of wardrobes flanking a chest of drawers on the southern side of the room. The McCoys had created a walk-in closet along the north wall. A large four-poster king-sized bed, complete with curtains, sat between two of the windows of the room. She had said to equip better gear… A walk-in wardrobe is probably my best shot. I crossed the room and pulled open the door. The hinges gave an almighty squeak. I winced, and then I heard the bed springs move. Through the net curtains of the bed, I could see that another of the larger giant rats had made the bed its nest, and unlike its sleeping companion, this one was awake and looking right at me.

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  It came at me fast. Too quick to get off a . I thrust forward the walking stick. It jumped. The end of the walking stick crashed into the snout of the medium-sized rat, then shattered. It did some damage as it knocked the beast off course, bloodied its nose and caused it to go into a roll. Right into the edge of the half-open closet door, slamming it shut, knocking me into the closet with it. The momentum forced me back against the far wall. I looked down at the remaining two feet of shattered walking stick…well…damn, I tossed it aside.

  The scraping noise against the door reminded me that it is only a matter of time before it gets through or works out that the door is a pull sort. I looked around for a replacement weapon. The closet occupied roughly a quarter of the original space of the room. The hand-carved wooden planks stand out in comparison to the way the other walls had been crafted. Light trickles in through slats in the door and a single large window. A couple of hanging lanterns looked like they could be used when it was darker. The far wall had a variety of clothing hanging from hangers on a rail. The wall with the doors had a variety of shelves towards the window. Two chests sat underneath it. On the opposite side of the room to the window stood two dummies. On the left was a male mannequin. Leather mid-calf boots, leather trousers, a white shirt, and a leather trench coat hanging open over the top. It looked armed with a rapier, a brace of pistols across the chest and several daggers in sheaths located in various places. Next to it was a female one, my height, knee-high boots, in tighter trousers, a loose blouse sticking out the top of her buttoned-up full-length coat. Upon its head sat a wide-brimmed hat, reminiscent of what Indiana Jones used to wear. There were three staves on hooks on the wall next to it.

  Instead of stripping the mannequin, I tried to just store the female outfit straight into [Inventory]. It mostly worked. Only the hat and coat didn’t get stored; they appeared on me. As did a pair of gloves I hadn’t realised the mannequin had been wearing. Equipment slots? I opened up the HUD and tried thinking ‘Gear.’ Nothing. ‘Equipment,’ ahh, that worked. Resembled the old paper doll most games used for representing gear slots. Only with an image of my avatar doing a t-pose instead of something more generic. Tabs across the top for equipment, cosmetics and underwear. I’ll explore those later when I’m not worried about a humongous rat breaking through the door. Accessing my [Inventory] page, I was able to drag the new gear into the slot for it, replacing what I had been wearing in that slot. My ripped top and trousers were easy enough, but the boots caused me to rise into the air slightly, and my foot moved into a different position to account for the new, slightly raised blocky heels. With the final item, some text appeared in a box on the screen:

  ‘Set Bonus:

  

  4/7 Mana regen bonus

  6/7 Minor bonus to spell damage

  7/7 Mana shield’

  It struck me how much better these clothes felt in comparison to what I had been wearing. I tried bouncing on my feet. I felt lighter, easier to move. Looking at my health bar, there was a light blue line covering about a third of it, but it looked like a fifth of my mana pool had been reserved to cover it. The scraping at the door stopped for a moment, and there was a loud thud as the rat tried to break through the door’s slats. I looked at the staves, I’m not sure how to describe it, but only one of the three felt compatible to me. It was light blue and almost looked like it was sparkling. As my hand closed around it, I could feel the power surging through me.

  I kicked the door open, and the force smacked into the rat as it was charging forward with an almighty bang. I followed it up with a thrust of the staff into its momentarily stunned face, and I unleashed the spell I had prepared, channelling it through the staff. I followed it up with a two-handed swing attack, which felt satisfying to land. Then I started alternating attacks and mixing things up as I had on board the ship. Mentally adding in the dings when I felt a particularly solid blow had landed. This thing was tough. It got a bite on me at one point, but it couldn’t get through the blue shield before I had managed to get away. I made sure to be more careful in my dodging and was relieved when the blue part of my health bar started refilling.

  The thing I realised about and as I fought the rat was just how similar those two spells were. There were some differences at the start and end, which was why I hadn’t noticed it before, but the middle was almost identical. I dodged another jump from the rat. Hitting it in the back with a as it landed. The similarity between those bits meant that I was actually getting quicker and quicker in my casting. I quickly checked my Mana, half left. Stamina, about 65%. I could see what Wendy meant now about how mixing it up, so both pools could regenerate, would let you fight for longer. I prepped a shocking grasp, channelled it into the staff and then, as it sprang, I ducked to the side and thrust the end of the staff into its belly, releasing the spell at the same time. The blow caused its hind quarters to go up into a flip, and it came down on its back. I released a and realised I hadn’t said a word when I did so. It charged at me once more, to take a two-handed strike for its efforts. Then, as it spun to take another charge at me, the end of the Staff came around in a wide swing, and it collided squarely on the beast's head. There was a loud crack, and it fell over with a loud thud, its neck at an awkward angle.