(I started this project as something to play around in when I had free time. I had initially decided that it wasn't going to be that big and that I would not publish it until I had finished it. (Boy, was I surprised when I hit 40 pages and that I wasn't even close to finishing it yet.) That said, I started this project on July 31, 2012 and it's almost 2 years later...

(O.o)

I had actually come close to finishing this last year and then my computer refused to turn on and all hard work I spent writing and polishing it disappeared. Discouraged, I shelved the back up copies until I was ready to come back to it.

Misdirection

By Deadly Off Topic

Part 1 - The Game

"Oh wow, the clock reads only 7:01. It's either incredibly broken or I'm incredibly bored out of my mind."

Alistair dropped onto his chair with a thump and a sigh as one hand idly tapped the armrest while the other rhythmically rubbed the brow of his nose with something akin to frustration. In front of him the monitor's lights flashed luminescent where a character creation screen, untouched in its pristine state, laid waiting to be utilized. "As it's unlikely that all the clocks in the house are wrong then I must be incredibly, oh so incredibly... BORED. I can't believe I let Zev talk me into playing this. What was I thinking? I could have gone to that Wine and Cheese tasting event that Leliana was hosting for the company, but oh no no no, "Play this," he says. "You owe me", he says. Blah. Save a guy's company from some hostile takeover and he thinks he owns you."

He leaned forward with a sigh. "And you... what the hell do I do with you? So many classes to pick from, so many races... and the colours and styles... who makes a game with so many choices?" He reached for his mouse- the little black spud with its faulty mid-wheel he'd been meaning to replace- and ran it over the options on the screen. "Bah, I'll just pick something. Random, random, random...yeah. I'll just sit in the game for a little before contacting him... chat for a bit and then I'll just log out. Hmm, yeah. Maybe I could even make it for some cheese tasting and sardines."

And at first that was exactly what Alistair did. He ran a few clicks over the options and ended up with a rather short, ugly looking little man whose idle animation would cough nastily and squint at him as if he had a lazy eye. It didn't help matters that the starting clothes for the disgusting little man made him stand out like a brightly coloured clown in the middle of a funeral procession. "Just hit return and do this...just hit return... spend a little time and be done with this."

But something held Alistair's hand, kept him from finalizing the monster he had created by a few careless strokes of the randomize luck jar. "I-I can't do it. This thing is... it's hideous. It's worse than mouldy old green cheese spread on fresh crackers. He'll know I wasn't trying. Beside this thing..." Alistair straightened slowly, his body stiffening with alarming realization that- "...is female? Oh wow, that's just sick. How do they expect people to want to play this. I know looks aren't everything and it's just about the stats, but...hmm, lets see how this looks on a mal- OH MAKER!"

In desperation to purge the image from his mind, Alistair nearly shut the screen off before realizing he could just as easily switch to another race model. "Dwarves should not - should never! - protrude like that." Taking a deep breath to steadied himself, Alistair wondered if he should go back to being bored and to staring at the clock again since sleeping in his nice, comfy swivel chair was looking a lot more appealing than scarring his retinas. "Only 7:13? That didn't kill much time - just my eyes and not sure if I'll ever see out of my right eye again. Man. He's gonna owe me. I just know the rest of these are gonna be bad."

Massaging some feeling back into his temple, Alistair gingerly tried to move his mouse, but the damn thing skipped and jerked across the desktop as if it was trying to kill itself. Was it possible for inanimate objects, even an old, small mouse like this, to see the screen and get traumatized? Of course it was a stupid thought worthy of his intellect, but after seeing that thing who knew?

"Since I don't plan to play this after today I'm just gonna pick something nice and not ugly. I mean looks aren't everything, but they could sure help the dwarves... I wonder how they even get together if they look like-" Alistair paused as he realized he was thinking about how two game sprites could get it on. Suddenly cheese tasting in a setting surrounded by real people who could offer good company and no visual scarring whatsoever (unless it was a drunken Oghren from Accounting doing the limbo at last year's Christmas party) was looking a lot more appealing.

"No, no no. Just get this done. Do it quicker and maybe I can still attend... fashionably late mind you, but better than never at all."

With a trembling sigh, he cycled through the remaining races and with each rejection he wondered how Zev could even like this game. Ugly dwarves shaped in ways the human mind should never imagine and now over-evolved dodo birds with buck toothed teeth. Teeth on birds? Who the hell came up with this crap? He clicked again and again. And now fish people whose half-call to humanity meant having legs instead of a tail... these forms were just so... so... ew. There, he said it. Man, this was going down hill so fast. Only two races left, but he didn't hold out any real hope. "Oh lets see what sort of horror they've visited on these guys. I'm sure you can top the ugliness. I should get a pair of sunglasses and just be prepared for the glare."

But no, he was mildly surprised. "Well, there's a saving throw earned here. I can pick one of these, get a name in and be done with it all in 10 seconds flat." The humans looked suave, sophisticated and a bit... condescending. "Not sure I'd like having my nose stuck up in the air like that. But they sure are nice to look at though... and they definitely made the females quite attractive." He let out a whistle. Wouldn't that be a laugh. Showing up as a chick... Thinking about Zev suddenly, Alistair's whistle ended up with a cough and a choke. No, definitely NOT. Don't want him getting the wrong idea...ever!

As for the elves...

Alistair found himself staring at the screen, his eyes running appreciatively over the designs. Sure, the humans were sexy looking in their regal manner, but the elves were... just hot. Embarrassed to admit it, he felt his ears burn. He knew he should explain it away as the elves being graceful, tall and lithe figures, but the simple fact was that the elves had all the right proportions in all the right places.

Wow, compared to the fiasco with the other three races, this was an incredible step up. He cycled between both races for a good ten minutes, switching back and forth as he tried to picture which would be the best to sink the one hour he promised to play the game with Zev with. In the end it was the idle animations, not the stats, that made the choice for him.

While the male human bowed in a polite and respectful manner, the elf's motion was clearly romantic. He would glance off to the side, cock his head thoughtfully and smile as if he had seen someone he liked. "Or seeing a loved one," Alistair mused with first a chuckle and then a groan. "First I think about dwarves dating and now I'm thinking about elves blowing kisses."

It was 7:30 before he realized he was still choosing details on the elf he'd opted for. "Oh crap. How'd I lose 15 minutes? Man, I knew I just should have picked something. That's it, I'll just go with this and... oh no, no, that'll never do." He undid his selection and shook his head thoughtfully. "It has to match... otherwise dwarf fiasco all over again." He lost an additional five minutes before finally settling on his character's appearance. A tall, attractive elven male with navy blue hair and sparkling eyes to match. "There... finally. No wait, they want something MORE?! Why?" He squinted at the screen before puckering up his lips in frustration. "A class? Why'd... oh geeze. I don't know what any of these do."

Thankfully the class choices were a little bit more limited than the races. Only 4 to pick from. A bard, ninja, knight or priest. "A ninja elf? Well... okay, I could see that - not for me - but I could see it. Hmm, the best way to pick this is by simple mathematics. Iney miney miny moe."

Fifteen minutes later...

Alistair was looking at his elf and the shiny metal harp slung to his back and wondering if he didn't look a bit too flamboyantly happy. He wanted to add, it wasn't like he'd be playing it after tomorrow, but he felt strangely self-conscious about it in the here and now. "I will BE playing with Zev so it's not like he'll be hitting on me... often. Man, he better not think I owe him after this."

One hour and a half minutes later...

Leaning back in his chair, Alistair surveyed the extent of his domain that flashed across his LCD display. "Okay. Elf made, levelled up and done exploring the starting area. I can safely tell Zev: Yep, I played. It wasn't much, but I did it. Honestly though, if I ran around with a harp in real life, I think I'd end up breaking it over someone's head first. Probably my brother's."

Thinking about Cailin made Alistair groan with embarrassment. It was just shameful how Cailin continue to nearly ruin his father's business even five years after his death. If only Cailin hadn't been born the eldest... "Well, I say that," Alistair muttered as he got up and padded over to the small little fridge wedged in a corner of his room, "But I wish someone else was running this business and also getting the well earned credit for it. Not have it in someone's else name and they run it right into the ground, right past the underground rivers and directly into the hot molten earthen core beneath while I'm righting this flailing ship, getting it back onto the seas and then he cannons me from behind taking all the credit as if he was the awesome one. Sheesh."

He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head, "Bloody, bloody moron. Even when I'm making him look good - look capable - he still tries to bankrupt us. Why, dear maker, did you not instill some common sense into him... give him the same drive for my dad's business that you gave me. I mean, practicality and know how should be inborn for him, he went to the best schools, had the best teachers and the best opportunities... the proper mother. Not like me, bastard child me. I wonder sometimes if dad's wife knew he had messed around on her... Don't think I'll ever know though... no one's around anymore." He seemed embarrassed for a moment and stopped to pull out the chain around his neck as if on instinct. His mother's pendant... the one - only - thing his mother had left him. "Sorry, mom. I didn't mean any disrespect. I know you did the best to raise me with the little you had."

Shoving it back into his shirt, he opened the mini fridge and took out a cold bottle of water which he twisted the cap slowly, thoughtfully. "It's not like you had the kind of money dad did and I guess I should be lucky that dad stepped up to the plate to claim me as part of the family." He rolled his shoulders and shook his head. "But you'd of thought he could have come in sooner... not let his other son falter through community college and shitty part time jobs before it was socially acceptable to say, 'hey all, this is my second son!'" Alistair couldn't help but feel a bit cheated and a little bit bitter about all the breaks his older brother got and squandered. Correction... breaks he continued to squander.

Who was it again that thought it was an exceptional idea to do skeet shooting on the roof of the company without any protective nets, reinforcements or otherwise?

Cailin.

Thinking about the fortune in replacing any shattered or cracked windows from neighbouring buildings alone just made Alistair cringe. If the company hadn't been so well-off, Cailin could have bankrupted them with just the lawsuits alone. Luckily Alistair had taken care of things and no one had gone lawyer-trigger happy even though their company profits took a big drop that year.

And if Alistair thought skeet-shooting had been bad enough, who could forget the time that Cailin thought it would be a 'fun thing' to land the company helicopter on the street heading for work. Aside from the startled passerbys and the concerned, well meaning policeman who happened to be passing that way at that exact, particular time, the street vendors had been up in arms, scrambling first for their scattered wares (who knew, sunglasses, jewellery and paintings could lodge into the company windows 5 floors up) and then with fists when they realized whose fault it was.

It was both a good and bad thing that the policeman had been there. At least someone was there to protect Cailin, but... "Did he have to give me a ticket for the illegal parking of the helicopter AS IF THAT WAS MY FAULT?! GAH!"

Bloody idiot!

And lets not forget the secretary Alistair had hired just 2 months ago. Who was it that thought it was just being a friendly gesture in taking Alistair assistant and banging her in the boardroom when Alistair had a super important meeting with some out of town big shots that same morning?

CAILIN! That good for nothing bast-

Cold water hit him in the mouth, pouring down his stubbled chin and onto his blue collar shirt. Damn it! He glared at the crumpled plastic bottle in his hand and cursed. "Calm down. This is not the time or the place to think about it. I promised to play this damn game and relax and that's not going to happen if I let these oh so fond memories from work bother me." Easier said then done, however.

Setting the damaged goods down, he jerked tissues from the box on the shelf and dabbed it at his face and clothes. "It's not like I even want the responsibility, but I can't stand to see dad's hard work go down the drain." And while his dad had not been there for most of his life - had come rather late into it -he had at least tried to make things right. He could have continued ignoring Alistair's existence - just introduced himself as the sperm donor and then moved on - but no. Perhaps his father had felt guilty and wanted to immerse Alistair into his business and the life that had been denied him. "Or you probably realized there was no hope for that assine jackass you call a son and thought you'd give a go on me."

He dropped into his chair with an oomph and swirled around to chuck the tissue into the little bin to his left. "If only you could see your legitimate son now... dad. You'd be so disappointed." Their dad was probably rolling around his grave.

Today's fiasco in the office had nearly devastated them and Alistair, furious and about to blow a gasket, had nearly punched his brother in the face. Which reminded him that the hole in his office wall was going to have to be repaired at some point though.

That stupid moron had almost sold them out to the Korcari/Cousland mego-conglomerate corporation simply because they had a lot of pretty faces and legs that wouldn't cross. If Zev hadn't done some quick negotiations with the vice-president of that damned corporation... both Cailin and him would have been kicked onto the curb with being out of a job just the least of their worries. Leave it to good old dad to leave the shares in both their names. At least Alistair had Zev looking out for his half of the business... although to be fair, Alistair wondered if it had more to do with trying to keep his job in this prestigious firm than having to go look for another job where his flexible hours and the ability to flounce himself among the eligible ladies and gents would be harder to do.

Thinking about Zev's practice to flirt with anyone and anything, Alistair found himself turning back to his screen where his pretty looking elf was. The pixels which resolved themselves into a rather attractive young man wearing a tribal kilt and silver chains over his bare chest was idly waving to the air again. "I probably should have made the dwarf, now that I think about it."

Ping.

"Huh, what's that...oh, an instant message, right." He'd played games in college like this before so the best bet was to figure out which key was the reply key. Could be T or R or could be something stupid like H. After all this was a game made by people who had made those dwarves.

Hey, Alistair, glad to see you could make it. It's me Zev. Press H for instant reply if you don't already know. :)

Figures.

Zev? How'd you know it was me?

Come on, you're playing an elf-

Zev-

Plus you told me you'd name it Nirieht even thought I told you not to, silly man. Someone's gonna read that in reverse one day... -_-+++ So, are you interested in doing your first instance?

Alistair blinked at his screen before he let his eyes run over the words a second time. Wasn't any clearer then either. My first what?

You totally don't have to worry about getting killed and whatever, I have a group of friends, we'll totally run you through. So what do you say?

Alistair was close to just shutting down the whole computer by its reset button before he took a breath to calm himself down. " Let me ask first what the hell he's going on about - don't over react, you'll be as bad as Oghren when he's had a few too many." So he typed: Run me through? Killed...or something else? What sort of game is this?

Oh Alistair, you're so naive. Now, you did download Brag© right? Will be a lot easier than typing every two seconds. Here, I'll patch you with the log-in info and everything, just get it loaded up AND plug in your headset. You're gonna love this.

About 12 minutes later...

"Oh I see, we can communicate through the computer." He was leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, casually chatting to Zevran as if he was on the phone at work. "Like a tele-conference without the phone set. You're right, this is easier." So okay, this part wasn't so bad. At least he could pass the time in conversation. Sure it was missing the fine touch a bit of cheese and what good old fashion wine could bring, but at least he had kept his promise.

"Well, yeah, except you can get more people in here. Speaking of that, I'm gonna start inviting my friends in. You'll get use to them and their quirks. Best people out there you know."

Might as well humour him, Alistair thought with a shrug. I'll meet these so called friends today... names I'll probably forget tomorrow as it's all a one time thing, remember. Just keep thinking that and it'll be over soon enough.

"Okay, is this on? Hello there?" A kind, matronly voice spoke; the kind of voice Alistair always associated with the absent mother figure he'd lost in childhood. He instantly liked her already. "Give this old one a few moments to get used to the confounded program. Brag© is such a pain at times, it's not as good as GroupTalk© . Ah there... So, A4Assassin said you're one of his friends . Any friend of his is a friend of mine. I'm HeavenlyTea. Nice to meet you."

"Hey there. This is Nirieht. " Polite and respectful back, Alistair just rolled his eyes to the ceiling. A4Assassin? Zevran! Bloody full of himself! And he thought Alistair's name had been bad?! He glanced at the screen where their own chat still hovered and caught himself from breathing a sigh of disbelief. Oh yes, there it was. A4Assassin.

"Young man, you should get your feet off that desk!"

"Huh whaaa?!" Jumping down, startled to say the least, Alistair was still in the middle of babbling an apology only to hear her warm laughter echoing back.

"Well, what do you know, I guessed right."

With a hand on his chest, his heart racing from the initial fright, Alistair gasped. Just who in the world was that old woman? "You mean you didn't know?"

HeavenlyTea chuckled. "Of course not, I just figured from your tone you were the kind of guy to do that... so I just thought I'd have a little fun. You can't fault a little old lady, right?"

The added chuckle made Alistair's face go beat red. "Yeah well..."

"I can't believe-"

"Oh damn. Incoming." Alistair barely heard Zev's warning as the newcomer threw herself into the conversation with a jarring and alarming flood of rudeness. It was like 100 years of crass, cold filtered meanness coalescing into 5 minutes of hell.

"-I have to be here to help run your crappy little friend through this stupid little instance. I have much better things to do with my time, thank you." If he didn't know better, Alistair would have assumed that the snooty and self-righteous voice belonged to the vicious woman at the takeover meeting. He was already typing to Zev when the incoming ping said:

Sounds like that bitch from this morning eh. Small world.

Tell me about it. It was like he was at that damned takeover meeting all over again. Listening to that snake of a woman as she jabbed her pen against her clip board, over and over again, pointing out shortcomings and failings with respect to him, his company, his business ethics... and more importantly, because it was worth saying it twice, him. Freaking lawyers.

Even now Alistair found himself squirming in his seat, actually wincing as this woman blathered on. Some legal representative... more like judge, jury and executioner... At least Zev was here, like he was this morning. He'd make sure that the oil oozing from this woman's voice stayed with that voice and didn't leave stains. Though that begged the quest of why did Zevran had bothered to invite her knowing how much her nasty voice would remind him of that horrible bitch.

Just breathe, Alistair. One time thing. You can easily disconnect now and never turn back.

"Oh come now QueenSpyder. Don't be so mean." The new voice drew Alistair to the alert so suddenly that his fingers drew away from the off button with a snap. Whoa, whoa, who was this? Unlike the matronly voice of HealingTea and the sarcastic and rude one of this QueenSpyder - aptly named no doubt - this new voice was completely different. "This is Zevran's little friend who he's been trying for ages to play this game with. Be a little nice. If you keep this up, he might not want to play with us anymore."

"Ohhhhh. Big lost there."

"Come now. It's only for a little bit. Then we can get back to farming Big Goliath for your rare cherry wood drop later. I promise."

"Fine, fine, BUT remember you promised. Only for a little bit."

He hadn't expected to hear such a friendly, confident and lets face it, sexy voice like hers. Especially with such a genuine warmth in it that it instantly put Alistair at ease. He dropped his face into his hands and almost sighed into his head phones. He couldn't help it, she had the kind of voice that you listened to. If she had walked into that office meeting instead of that insidious bitch this morning and demanded a merger between his company and hers... he would have listened...a lot.

And there had to be something said when even that rude QueenSpyder listened without complaint - without insult- to this new voice.

There was a ping on his screen and he found himself blinking. This wasn't from Zev at all, but from someone called TankingQueen? What the hell? Zev never warned him that other players could page him. Not, that Alistair realized with a bit of chagrin, that he shouldn't have realized that it was impossible, but who else knew his name?

The line read as: Hey, don't worry about QS. She's more bite than she is sting. :) We've been farming for her drop for 2 weeks, so she's a bit depressed that it hasn't drop. Damn rng...what's one more day, eh?

Alistair had no trouble typing a quick reply back. I'm not worried at all. I'm new to all this. Could the person paging be-

"Hey Ali-I mean Nirieht," and though Zevran quickly caught himself, it didn't stop him from laughing at his near slip up. "I'd like you to meet TankingQueen. She's our leader and goto person when we need a meat shield."

"Oh, hi. It's nice to meet you." Oh hi? Could I not say anything more friendly or dashing... I sound like a kid hitting puberty. "What's a meat shield?" Gah!

Aside from the general laughter and QueenSpyder spitting out the word idiot, the reply TankingQueen gave glittered with amusement. "It just means that I take damage for the party so they don't have to. You could say I'm its protector? Someone who wards them from danger..." At least if she thought he was an idiot, she was polite enough to not treat him as one.

"TQ plays a human warrior class called The Warden. She's awesome at what she does. But speaking of protectors... Me and Nirieht work at the same place. So if I'm not on it's probably because I'm saving his sorry butt at work." Zev's laugh was echoed by TankingQueen and HealingTea. "The things I have to do for this boy... But I do get paid well for great services. Heh."

Running his hand over his face and tangling his fingers into this headset as he did so, Alistair groaned at the joking done at his expense. "Hey, I'm not all that useless. I can make an excellent cheese casserole when I set my mind to it."

"Really?" It was TankingQueen who whistled. "A man who can cook? Now that makes me curious. Can you make anything else other than casseroles?"

"Well, of course. If it can be cooked, grilled, fricasseed, stewed and chopped up I can do it. I am called the King of the Kitchen-" No, he wasn't! What the hell was he saying? Flustered and red in the face he was thankful that he'd managed to keep his voice all boastful and brave. If she could only see him now, all butterflies and ready to throw up, what would she even think?

Rich with amusement and heavy with something else, Alistair couldn't help but lean forward as TankingQueen spoke again. She had the sort of the voice you could melt for. "Oh really? I'd like to see that. Maybe you could cook for-"

"Oh trust me, you don't. I know his kind. All bravado, but very little in the delivery department." Alistair could seriously see QueenSpyder taking a nice shove into an oncoming train. What was her problem with him anyway? Why did she had to interrupt everything with such crass and constant put downs. What did he ever do to her? "If you're really looking for someone's services, I could definitely recommend something more suitable to your pedigree."

"Hey guys, before you go there. Let me say something to Nirieht." there was a bit of a dramatic pause here from Zevran, making Alistair wonder what the hell Zev was doing.

"Yeah?"

"Nirieht, you like my services right. Enough to recommend me to our lady friends here." Dead zinger delivered cold and for a brief moment there was dead air time and then-

"Huh? Wait what?" The rail of conversation was spinning itself into a scintillation of directions and this latest direction mirrored off by Zevran grab for attention was so far the worse one. "What did I walk into here?" The nervousness in his voice brought on more laughter sans QueenSpyder who was probably rolling her eyes at him right now.

"I think your poor friend's been put through enough with us, Z. We should get him into the instance so that we can show off what we can do." TankingQueen's voice still had trails of laughter to it, but Alistair wasn't sure he minded her laughing. He didn't know how to explain it to himself, but when she laughed he didn't feel that it was necessarily at him, but with him. "You up for it Nirieht?"

"Me, oh yeah... I'm good ... good ...to go..." He scrambled to click the flashing message that popped on the screen and swallowed nervously. This was going to be a long night.