Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.

Here's the start of Arc one!

Arc 1 - To Protect One's Allies

Chapter the First - A Night on theTown

The next time the two logged on, they were in front of a town. A warning message was etched into the sky above their heads:

PLEASE SAVE IN TOWNS. SAVING FROM THIS POINT FORWARD OUTSIDE AN INN WILL LEAVE YOUR AVATARS VULNERABLE TO ATTACK, THIEVES, OR DEATH.

Thank you.

John gave a little sigh and opened the menu, checking his money. Five hundred "Col" were stored, presumably this world's currency. He checked his equipment, finding the items Cloak, Traditional Tunic, Leather Shoes, and Tool Belt, next to his weapons which included a Light Rapier.

"No firearms," Sherlock murmured to himself, "Combatants must duel by predicting the other's movements and taking advantage of weak spots, sometimes taking the risk and leaving themselves open to attacks. How interesting. Much better than just using a dull firearm and getting the shot over with."

"Of course you would prefer sword fighting," John laughed to himself. The two looked towards the quiet town, Sherlock with fascination and John with wide eyed excitement. The buildings were simple wood, but held doorways with high arches to accommodate any sized player. Lining the main street were stalls with various items for sale, from weapons to armor and from potions to food. A stray wind blew past the two players, carrying with it the scent of things spicy and sweet and voices of all accents and tones.

Sherlock seemed just as excited by the entirety of the game as John did, though he was able to restrain himself somewhat. "Come along, John. If we're going to explore any more areas, it would stand to reason that we should purchase better equipment and explore the mechanics of this world."

John was soon running up ahead, Sherlock having to try and keep up for once. As the two entered the town, a few people turned to them, waving and giving a smile. John gave a smile back and Sherlock turned a scrutinizing gaze on them. He tried to deduce something from their hair, clothes, expression. Nothing. He couldn't find any signs. Their expressions were always set in a way that was too blissful, their clothes betraying no stray hairs or dirt (and if there was any dirt, it looked painted on), and their hands were all the same.

John turned back to where Sherlock had stopped. His eyebrows furrowed at the completely flabbergasted expression on Sherlock's face, eyes betraying confusion and jaw slightly slack. He was a bit worried when he saw that. "Oi Sherlock, you okay?"

Sherlock was shocked out of whatever state he was in and looked at John, face suddenly blank. "John, I can't deduce these people."

"What people?" John raised an eyebrow, becoming concerned for his flatmate. Since when did Sherlock admit to not being able to deduce?

"The ones who have been so happy and friendly!" He groaned in exasperation, "They're perfect! It's as if they're not even real!"

John looked at Sherlock's distressed look and promptly began to laugh.

"John! This is not funny!"

"For a genius," John gasped out between giggles, "you can sure be clueless at times!" There were a few more laughs before John explained, "Those aren't real people, Sherlock. Those are Non-Playable Characters, or NPC's for short. The creators of the game just put them in to sell items and do normal people jobs so that the Players –us- can go off on adventures."

Sherlock processed this information and filed it away with a small oh of understanding. "Well. Now I just feel terribly silly."

"You often are," John nodded before noticing a few of the shops and flouncing off with an excited, "Come on!"

Sherlock followed, watching other players as they purchased items and enjoyed food. A couple was walking not far from where the two were, hand in hand. One was a Cait Sith, with the ridiculous cat ears and tail, while the other was an Imp, a large, burly fellow a bit taller than the detective and much wider. They were having an affair, which Sherlock could tell by the way they spoke to one another. The Imp was going on about forbidden love or some other such nonsense.

The consulting detective smiled a little to himself. Now that some of the visual cues (stray hairs, perfumes, make up, dirt, etc.) were missing he would have to find new ways to deduce people's personal details. It would pose a bit of a challenge, something he didn't normally have outside of cases.

John had gotten a few medical supplies (antidotes for poison, paralysis and the like), a sword for Sherlock, a few daggers for himself that were sturdier and a bit of information from the NPC's on spells and the surrounding area. He tugged on Sherlock's sleeve to drag him from his reverie and towards where a small bar was located. "Sherlock, I've just spent all my money on things to get us by in the wilderness. I think you need to buy me a pint."

"They have alcohol in this world?" Sherlock wrinkled his nose in distaste, "Must these people continue to make themselves stupid wherever they go?"

John sighed, rolling his eyes, "I just would like to loosen up. Besides, you never know. It could be a fun… experiment, let's just say. Can you get drunk without their being any actual alcohol in your system?"

"So this would be like a placebo experiment," Sherlock murmured, "Fine. I'll record what you've done as well as my hypothesis and the conclusion to this little excursion." He stopped by a stall and got himself a pen and some parchment. "Lead the way, John."

Sherlock quickly started to jot down points on his parchment, following John.

Placebo Alcohol Experiment

Is it possible for people to become intoxicated in a virtual reality game with no alcohol in their real bodies?

Perhaps, considering subject's occasional drinking and the Placebo Effect.

Sherlock sat across from his flatmate, ordering him a "Dulcis est Saltus" John took a hesitant sip of the golden beverage set in front of him, eyes widening with surprise.

9:00 P.M. Subject seems to have taken a liking to the alcohol of this world. It's a good thing these beverages are so cheap; I'm afraid I'll be spending a lot by the end of the night.

"Which is more surprising, John? The fact you can even taste at all here or the taste of your ale?"

"Sherlock, I don't think I've tasted anything like this," John was happily shocked, to say the least. He smiled and downed half the glass.

Alcoholic beverage known as Dulcis est Saltus (or "sweet forest" in Latin) is golden in color, most likely an ale. According to subject, has a sweet taste combined with a slight herbal tang and tasting a little like the forest. This description may be due to the fact subject is beginning to become "tipsy". Normal golden ale has alcohol levels of 3.5 to 5.3%. Considering the subject can hold three times this, I've calculated that the drinks may have alcohol levels of 8%. Better restrict his alcohol intake, as too much can lead to coma.

John had visibly relaxed and wasn't even done with his first drink yet. He was smiling, talking about some boring subject or another. Sherlock wasn't exactly paying attention. After getting done with his first drink, he ordered a second, then a third.

John is becoming increasingly euphoric. He keeps commenting on my eyes. I've had to remind him several times that this world is a video game, but he seems adamant on complimenting them.

9:45 P.M. John has been attempting to convince me to drink. No John, I'm in the middle of an experiment. What he said next will not be written down. Ever.

Let's just say that the dear doctor had quite a mouth and that Sherlock had never been redder in his life.

No John, I will not dance with you. Even if your hips do not lie.

John you are making me increasingly uncomfortable. I don't know whether I like it or not. If at all possible, sent help would be appreciated.

I have made the educated decision to never show this study to anyone. Science can figure all this out themselves for all I care.

John, please, not here. You are not in your right mind, this isn't even real life, and I refuse to take advantage of a drunk.

10:00 P.M. John tried to fly whilst inhibited. It is becoming increasingly difficult to write data for this as John continues to gallivant off.

He just knocked into some building. I caught him before he fell. John, you are probably the heaviest human being alive. Second to Mycroft, of course.

No more data will be needed. I think it's fairly obvious that you can get drunk in game. This is an experiment I will never repeat unless I, too, am extremely intoxicated.

Sherlock dragged his friend to an inn and paid for a room for the both of them. He was too tired to even try going into his own bed, so he laid John down and crawled in beside him. After his eyes drifted closed, a message asked him whether he wanted to log out. He gladly did so.

When John awoke in the real world, there was none of the headache that usually accompanied all the drinking he had done. He just had a fuzzy memory of everything. He looked at his bedside alarm. It was four in the morning. Having the day off, he decided to join Sherlock back in ALfheim until it was time for him to cook breakfast.

John wasn't sure at first if he would like the idea of the video game. It just seemed so childish to him. He had been happily surprised with how ALfheim was, and had no qualms about going back. Besides, it kept Sherlock out of his hair.

As he logged back in, he almost wanted to take everything back.

While his hangover didn't follow him into real life, it sure kept in the game. When he opened his eyes to the wooden ceiling, he winced, head pounding. Dear God, just what he needed. Sherlock was beside him, looking at him intently.

"What?" John snapped. He wasn't in the mood for his inquiries, no matter how scientific. God, last night must have been the worst mistake of his life (though he couldn't say that with any certainty, as he was drunk for most of it and couldn't remember a single thing).

"I was just about to say, we need to get going. There are things to do, places to explore; also, we're running low on funds and need to find a way to get more."

John huffed a small laugh and started to get up, wincing as his head pounded. He dug through his medicine and found the cheapest tonic, quickly using it to treat his hangover. The pain almost immediately disappeared, leaving him sighing with relief. "Well then Sherlock, I suppose we should be on our way."

So tell me what you think! The next chapter features two people no one wants to see and the mastery of spells and fighting. Let the game begin!