Vincent stood there with the game in hand, reading the small comments on its back. Morrowind. It looked a fun enough game, but of course, he had to try it out to be sure….and then he might be tempted to use his ability.

Little known to the close world around him, Vincent could literally put himself into a story or adventure that he read, saw, heard about, or in this case, played. He didn't know why or how he could do it, only that he could. One thing useful he knew about it was, the longer he spent in the story, the harder it was to pull himself out. Once he had almost lost himself completely in a book about pirates.

Now, needless to say it was excellent fun, but the dangers were quite real, even if it was imagined up by someone. Morrowind, hopefully, would prove a most entertaining adventure.

Marching from the store with bag in hand, he slugged his way through the busy town, stopping at points to look through shop windows, or greeting someone he knew. Finally he reached his house/restaurant. His parents owned the restaurant, and the space upstairs had been spacious enough to accommodate the three of them. It made it easier than paying for house and eatery separately.

Vincent stepped through the doorway, and was met with the dull roar of a crowded restaurant. He wormed his way through the tables, dodged around his parents' waiters and waitresses, and whirled around the carts. He reached the stairs and sprung up them. He walked quickly to his room, twisted the knob and rushed in only to smack into his father's stiff chest.

"Don't think you can escape to your games so quick, Twig." He said with more than a hint of amusement in his voice. Vincent's finger twitched at the nickname. It had been a standing joke since he was 5, when his parents realized Vince had too high a metabolism to gain much fat. He was more than capable of gaining muscle, but he found sitting in front of his computer to be a winning factor in his mental arguments over what to do.

Sighing, he tossed the bag with the game to the desk next to the door, "Whatcha need?"

"For you to help out downstairs. As you noticed, we're full up today."

"Yeah, lucky you…." Vince said with a groan.

---------------------------------------------------

Vincent trudged into his room, took the game up absent-mindedly, and plopped down on the bed. He stared at it, contemplating over whether to play it or not. Nah, too tired. This inner voice startled Vincent, as he rarely ever said no to a game. Defying his brain's logic, he took the game over to his computer.

Booting it up, he brought up the home page, put the disc in the tray, and started the installation. His computer not being the most magnificent, it took a good bit, and Vincent kept finding himself drooping his head slowly, and then jerking it up quickly. When finally the game finished installation, he barely had time to read the title screen before his head dropped hard to the desk.

"I think he's waking up."

"He is, someone get the guard!"

"Oh, calm down Tiver, he's only a boy."

"A boy that practices sorcery. You weren't there when he dropped out of thin air right onto my roof."

Vincent climbed through the fog of slumber into the real world. The first thing he noticed was the fact that he was not sitting where he had fallen asleep, and the surface under him was cold and damp. Reaching a hand to his eyes to rub the sleep out so he could get a better look around, he was surprised to find a crowd of people standing there.

He would have thought someone had just played a joke on him, but for the fact that the closest person to him, a lady, had a dark, almost blue hue to her skin. He bolted upright and stared around him. There were seven people, five of them normal human men, dressed in worn rags, by the look, one of them a cat person, of all things, and the dark-skinned lady.

She stepped forward, "You should get up before the guards come, young one, they may think you a slave."

"Slave? Where am I?" He started to get to his feet, and the crowd made a visible shift away from him. However, the lady stayed put.

She gestured around her, "Dren plantation. I think that teleportation spell you used wasn't right on course. You were attempting to land in Pelagiad, right?"

He stared at her in pure bewilderment, "Lady, I have no idea what you are talking about."

She narrowed her eyes, "You were using a teleportation spell, right?"

This lady is crazy…..wait…..his mind struck gold, and he slapped his forehead in frustration. Of course he had managed to use his ability while he slept. It was so helpful like that. Problem was, he couldn't feel himself in the real world, as well as here…He was supposed to.

A sound of footsteps running fast towards the group caused the lady and Vincent to turn and stare at the incomer. The man was dressed in an odd armor, that didn't look to Vincent to be steel. More like pottery or yellow glass. The lady suddenly turned and began ushering him the opposite direction of the man, "You have to run, Temit will punish you badly if he catches you. You're not supposed to be here, and if you aren't here by teleportation, you have no excuse!"

Logic turned over in his head. Likely the lady wasn't lying, and he had no experience of the game to judge this Temit man. He turned and dashed towards the nearest opening in the walled area. It looked to be wilderness through it.

The man Vincent supposed was Temit shouted out, "Stop, you little thief!"

Thief? Oh, so much the better if he catches me! Despite the fear that the dark-skinned lady had inspired, he found it amusing that his mind could still find the presence of mind to produce sarcasm.