《Medic!~》 Hello, I Must Be Going. The Florida sun slammed down on him as he trudged from the bus stop, past the New Health Deli (¡°You¡¯ll think it¡¯s actually meat!¡±), smelling the not-chicken and not-barbeque beef wafting in the air, past the failing Dutchess Bakery (aka ¡°Diabetes Bakery¡±) and now he was smelling way too much sugary frosting, the kind of frosting that no matter what color it was tasted like baking soda and water. He hurried past the STAR GAMES!!! game shop that felt it needed that many capital letters and exclamation marks to sell just gaming gear and subscription cards, since all games were online-only now. He tried not to look at the new DIVE VX9+ deep immersion helmet, ¡°GET THE ENHANCED TOUCH DLC! ONLY $99.99 WITH PURCHASE!¡± There was a time he could have afforded such nice things. It wasn¡¯t like he was ever going to get married. He was too old now. Too old, too fat, too bald, and he had long since given up on women. And then he got fired. Oh, the companies may SAY that there¡¯s no such thing as a blacklist, but when the smiles and handshakes go from ¡°Well!¡± to ¡°Well¡­¡± it became pretty obvious. The word was out. He was worthless goods. So no more income. So no more game gear. Only endless ¡°Walks of Shame¡± in this hot summer weather from each failed job interview. He had to wait at the curb to let another one of those Edison cars roar by. Asshole, he thought. Sure, no matter how many houses you could buy with that kind of money it¡¯s still in the end just an electric car like all the rest, but some people missed the roaring gasoline engine sounds so now Edison owners can download and install a DLC and the car will faithfully reproduce the V8 ear-popping-make-everyone-call-you-an-asshole roar as they drive by. It roared into a handicapped parking space. Double asshole. A rather buff gentleman wearing a rather expensive suit flicked away a REAL, still-lit, expensive cigarette as he climbed out from under the air-conditioned gull-wing door and sauntered into the AlbertSmiths supermarket, probably to buy some imported beer for the weekend with multiple beautiful lady friends. Triple asshole. The air was typical Florida muggy. He pulled his sweat-stained shirt away from his sticky chest as he made his way into the residential block. Finally home he grunted the front door open (damn humidity), ripped off his job interview clothes, grabbed some quick-and-unhealthy food and drink from the fridge, and wearing only his ¡°tighty whities¡± underwear pants, turned on the computer. Then he cursed when it complained about ¡®no connection¡¯ yet again. Blasted thing. He unplugged the power and plugged it back in again. It used to be computers didn¡¯t need to always be online. Finally it booted up. He had to spend the next minute clearing the notifications to update this program, that program, the advertisements for this or that DLC for every single application he didn¡¯t use (and couldn¡¯t uninstall without violating his agreement with the internet company), and after killing the pleas for new ink cartridges from the built-in printer (that was broken anyway), he was finally ready to access the internet. A game¡­ what kind of game do I want to play to get my mind off things? He popped a pizza-flavored breaded ravioli-like thing into his mouth, dribbling crumbs onto his pasty thighs. Unconsciously he wiped them onto the floor. Something I could play with this twelve-year-old computer. Old games¡­ MMOs still playable¡­ He drank the caffeinated generic soda straight from the 3-liter bottle. ¡°Legendary Tales Online¡±? Oh yeah¡­ good ol¡¯ LTO. It¡¯s been years¡­ Where did I put that diving helmet? Legendary Tales Online used to be one of the first full-immersion MMORPGs out there. It was a rare sandbox game, meaning you could go anywhere and be anything you wanted to be. Yes, you had to choose a class or two, like Fighter for instance, but you weren¡¯t condemned to solve all problems with a sword. In fact, you didn¡¯t have to fight anything at all if you didn¡¯t want to. Far cry from today¡¯s MMOs which were all ¡°theme park attraction rides¡± where EVERYONE saw the same cut-scene, EVERYONE went to the same portal to the same town to get to the same dungeon, EVERYONE was the ¡°only one who could save the world¡± -- along with all the other million-or-so players. LTO got a little too popular, it¡¯s fans got a little too fanatic, and so eventually it got bought out by one of those multinational mega-corporations, and the first thing they did was turn the popular game into yet another ¡°theme park¡± MMO. Betrayed players left in droves, and the servers shut down forever three years later. Now many, many years later LTO was back, sort of. The original source code ¡°accidentally¡± got leaked and the ¡°Legendary Tales Online Resurrection¡± project was born. Updated graphics, new quests, many bugs removed, and re-activating the hidden ¡°mature rating¡± option so players could be as (ahem) adult as they wanted to be without anyone getting sued. Fan-made servers sprung up everywhere. Best of all, mods! You could now play a ¡°zombie apocalypse¡± LTOR-TWD, a science-fiction LTOR-SW set in a galaxy far, far away, or perhaps the LTOR-LOTR version with a certain magical ring of invisibility that must be chucked into a certain volcano. There was even ¡°LTOR - Thank You Japan¡± where the NPCs were all anime characters and the monsters had tentacles. No, let¡¯s just play a vanilla game. Just a little bit of nostalgia¡­ After waiting for the game launcher to finish downloading he¡­ had to wait for the game updater to download an entirely new set of data and then he¡­ had to wait for the game updater to update the game, and finally he¡­ had to wait for the loading screen to finish loading the game and FINALLY he¡­ had to sit through the ¡°Executive Produced By¡± screen (with animation and short, quirky music), a ¡°Produced By¡± screen (more animation and a *Tadah!* tune), a ¡°Buy THIS¡± ad for when the game was still subscription-based¡­ *Bang!* *Bang!* *Bang!* Hitting the keyboard couldn¡¯t make the program skip ahead. Typical... Finally, finally, FINALLY he¡­ had to wait for the game to load the title screen. Finally! Finally! FINALLY! FINALLY! He¡­ finished his pizza snack things and drank about half the bottle of soda, when¡ª MASSIVELY OVERDRAMATIC MUSIC started to play with OVERLY EXCITED BACKGROUND ANIMATION! Right, first thing I¡¯m going to kill: this damn music! Options, options, sound, ah! Background music: Off. Game Options¡­ Mature Content: On. Subtitles: Off. Game Controls¡­ Wait, what was my helmet¡¯s make again? Let¡¯s see, does it support VX5? Ah, good. It does. Okay, set controls to helmet, and¡­ He carefully untangled the black helmet¡¯s cord and plugged it into the computer. Then he had to drag the computer closer to his bed since the cord wasn¡¯t long enough. Then he had to drag the bed closer to the computer because the computer¡¯s power cord wasn¡¯t long enough to allow much dragging. He flopped on the bed, gasping for breath, his heart pounding away madly. This damn body¡­ Should I take a shower? ¡­ No. Too tired. Play first. Right now, he didn¡¯t have a job. Right now, he didn¡¯t have anything worth a damn. Soon, he¡¯ll run out of money, and be kicked out onto the streets with the rest of the losers. Heh. I haven¡¯t even started and already I¡¯m at Game Over. Enough. Play. The black plastic immersion helmet was hard and scratchy against his neck and scalp (the cheap foam padding was long gone), but no matter. He shimmied and twisted, cramming a sock into the helmet and a pillow under his neck until things were, if not comfortable, at least reasonable. Clicking on the power, a new picture overlay the sight of the ceiling. He used the helmet¡¯s built-in tests to set color, brightness, sound, and the like. Finally he pushed the button that sent his real body away.
Welcome to Legendary Tales Online Resurrection v3.2.0a Please Stand By¡­
In the background hum he vaguely heard the computer chugging away, loading his body¡¯s dimensions into memory. He wasn¡¯t looking forward to this bit. GAH! There he was, a bald, fat, mostly naked tub of lard. Amazing LTO got that many subscriptions if every user had to sit through their own personal torture show¡­ Various buttons popped up: Face, Body, Sex... Sex? That¡¯s new. LTO couldn¡¯t do gender-benders back when I played it. I wonder what patch it¡ª Virtual him coughed politely, an obvious ¡°hurry up¡± ploy. Various things jiggled unpleasantly. Ugh. Right, first things first:
Body Type: Athletic Weight: 159 lbs (American Weight Units)
Not sure what class I should go for¡­ and still, there¡¯s that thing¡­ Like practically all players before him, he was consumed with the thought of, ¡°How would I look as the opposite sex?¡± A virtual button was pushed, and: Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
Sex: Female
Huh. I wasn¡¯t expecting that. I¡¯m not my own type. The ¡°tighty whities¡± don¡¯t look good on female me either. ¡­ Well, at least I have hair now. Somewhat insulted by his own lack of sex appeal even as a thinner, better-built female, he twiddled with the game¡¯s slider controls, transforming the old and plain woman into a guy¡¯s wet dream: a much younger girl with curves and long red flowing hair and DEM LEGS and VAVOOM. He ditched the underwear. Much better. Virtual him coughed politely, an obvious ¡°hurry up¡± ploy. Various things jiggled QUITE pleasantly. There was a minor twinge at his conscience, letting him know that he was being VERY childish right now and that any psychiatrist peeking in would likely want to have a word with him about his repressed sexual feelings. Oh shut up. I¡¯m single. It¡¯s allowed. Even so, he reduced the settings, changing the girl¡¯s figure from ¡°Succubus¡± to ¡°Hello Nurse¡± to ¡°Porno Model¡± and finally to ¡°Girl at Gym¡±. Still, do I really want to play as a girl? He remembered he had activated the ¡°Mature Content¡± before switching to the helmet. Knowing his luck¡­ Guess not. Sorry dear¡­
Sex: Male
Surprisingly, male him looked¡­ rather good, actually. Not with that flowing red hair, but a young, thin athletic body, with sensitive eyes¡­ He could play in a boy-band looking like that. Actually¡­ Why not? How adorably cute can I make myself? Hmm¡­ race¡­
Race: Halfling
Male him was now MUCH shorter and lighter. ¡°Squish¡±. Not quite. Don¡¯t care for large furry feet either. I want to be something more elegant¡­
Race: Dwarf
Oh HELL no.
Race: Elf
THERE we go¡­ Let¡¯s see¡­ Sea Elf, Wood Elf, Cave Elf¡­ ah.
Race: Elf Sub-Race: High Elf Considered by many people to be the most beautiful of all elves, they can live for thousands of years. Smaller and slimmer than normal humans and even other types of elves, they have finely chiseled and delicate features and speak in melodic tones. Due to their focus on cultural and intellectual pursuits, High Elves make excellent Bards and Wizards. Although they can play as most classes, they are not allowed to become Berserkers.
Pfft! Hahaha! Oh yeah, I can just see it, a willowy-thin elf berserker trying to lift a battle axe larger than himself¡­ ¡°Conan! What is best in life?¡± ¡°To crush these walnuts, see their shells driven before me, and to hear the lamentations of the housecleaners.¡± Yeah, so not a melee type. Not with those arms anyways, and I don¡¯t feel like being a ranger. So that leaves the spell-casting classes: Druid, Bard, Cleric, and Wizard. Hmm¡­ I don¡¯t want to play a wizard again, and I never could get a hang of druids, so that leaves the bard and cleric. So¡­ a buffer-caster or a healer-caster¡­ I wonder if I can find a party¡­ Let¡¯s see, bard gets wizard spells (good), cleric gets priest spells (also good). If I go with the bard, I COULD actually start a boy-band. Just like that ¡°teen heartthrob¡± Jus¡ª (*Shudder*) Actually, let¡¯s just go with a cleric. Yeah. That way I can heal myself and work up to resurrecting everyone. Good idea. I dodged a bullet there. I¡¯m not good with crowds and stages anyway. He switched to the face controls. Away went the flowing red hair, replaced by short white hair. Hmm¡­ no¡­ I want hair a little more ¡°fluffy¡± than that. This? No¡­ no¡­ HELL no¡­ Not bad¡­ Hm. No¡­ THAT¡¯S more like it¡­ No¡­ I guess it¡¯s that one after all, but not white. Blue? Nah. Silver? Close¡­ How about silvery-blue? Huh. That looks pretty good, actually. Eyes should be¡­ green? No blue. Purple? Yeah, purple looks best. Or blue. No, purple. Well¡­ Time passed¡­ Liking the ears here. Very ¡°fascinating Captain¡±. Skin¡¯s the wrong color though, so¡­ this? Ugh, it¡¯s ¡°Night of the Living BRAAAaaaaaaiiiiins¡±. This? No, that looks unhealthy. Change the hair to black and other players will drive a stake into my heart before I can say anything. More time passed¡­ Finally, he was (mostly) satisfied with his work. In front of him stood a somewhat short, slender but healthy looking young elf boy, no class selected yet, with fluffy silvery-blue hair, PURPLE eyes, and long legs. He looked adorable enough to make young girls blush, get cougar women salivating, and motherly types to want to adopt him on sight and feed him sugary things. He wore a white cotton sweater with a red ¡®plus¡¯ sign on the chest, and white pants with white business shoes.
Do you accept these settings for your avatar?
I guess that¡¯s good enough for now¡­ I can always run up a new character if I don¡¯t like it. Verbal input was required now. ¡°Yes.¡± His point of view changed. He was now an elf boy.
Please state your avatar¡¯s name: __________________
Well, that¡¯s easy. ¡°Medic.¡± Whoa, that¡¯s my elf voice? Nice! * Bong! *
Sorry, that name has already been taken.
Huh? ¡°Cute Medic.¡± * Bong! *
Sorry, that name has already been taken.
¡°Sexy Medic.¡± * Bong! *
Sorry, that name has already been taken.
Oh come on! ¡°Healing Feelings.¡± * Bong! *
Sorry, that name has already been taken.
Seriously? ¡°Playing Doctor¡± * Bong! *
Sorry, that name has already been taken.
What the hell? Has all the words in the English language been used already? How many players are on this damn server anyway? ¡°Doc Holiday.¡± * Bong! *
Sorry, that name has already been taken.
Well, if I can¡¯t use proper English, how about slang? ¡°2L33t4U.¡± * Bong! *
Sorry, that name has already been taken.
You fricking sunova¡­ ¡°Healz Pleaze.¡± *Tadah!*
Welcome to Legendary Tales Online, Healz Pleaze! To enter the world of Lamyltash say ¡°Launch¡± or press the green arrow on the bottom right!
Ugh¡­ Can I change it? ¡­ No. Not without starting over from scratch. Damn. Well, whatever. ¡­ I really hate that name¡­ ¡­ ¡­ ¡°Launch.¡± And Going... And Going... And Going...
LAUNCHING, PLEASE WAIT¡­
¡°Don¡¯t mind me and my lovely voice. I¡¯m just going to be waiting here¡­ singing show tunes¡­ Or just falling asleep¡­ Because COME ON ALREADY! Just how long do I have to wait???¡± Time enough for one show tune and a commercial apparently as the loading update messages flashed: Loading figures, artifacts, monsters, walls... Partridges... pear trees... Eventually, the world turned light blue and wireframes and gridlines starting appearing everywhere. Contours, pillars, roundish things hanging above him. Then colors: yellow-green floor, dark brown pillars, and bright green things. Finally came sound, movement, and clarity. He was standing alone on the yellowish-green grass next to dark brown trees with bright green leaves. The wind blew the grass and leaves gently, and invisible birds chirped away from¡­ somewhere. The sky was light blue and puffy white clouds traveled to the right, occasionally covering the bright sun. He was finally in the game. He turned his head to look around. Damn. I was worried this would happen with my old graphics card¡­ ¡°Ooppttiioonnss.¡± Even his voice was in slow motion. Finally the world paused and the options screen came up. He reduced the resolution. The leaves on the trees lost a lot of detail and the bark became smoother. The ¡°fog¡± that was the limit of his distance vision (and the computer¡¯s ability to display) jumped closer. ¡°Exit.¡± The options menu went away and the world started up again. He turned his head to look around. Much better. He swung his arms around and ran forward ten feet to test the graphics some more. Alright. Looks like I can finally play this game. Let¡¯s see, if I remember correctly¡­ ¡°Map.¡± A slightly-tattered brown vellum map appeared floating in front of him displaying the continent. He pressed the ¡°+¡± sign until it was zoomed in close enough for him to see the nearby village¡¯s structures. After a bit, small colored triangles started moving around, white for NPCs, blue for trainers (such as for sword-fighting, archery, etc.), yellow for passive monsters (the type that won¡¯t attack you unless you attack them first), and green for fellow players. Red triangles for aggressive monsters (that attack on sight) moved in and out of the edge of the map. He looked over the map, looking over names, looking for trainers. Alchemist, black magic, scout, smithing, where¡­? Ah. Owata Gila the Cleric Trainer was a rotund man in a black robe with a white cross emblazoned on the chest. If he had a round bald spot he would have made a good Friar Tuck character. He was standing outside a shrine-like place, tapping a brick wall with his quarterstaff, and alternating between picking his nose and scratching his butt, when he was approached by an adorable-looking elf boy. He wasn¡¯t impressed, but that was because he was an NPC. There were attempts to get an NPC to recognize attractiveness, but players always just laughed at the barmaid swooning over the half-orc player wearing makeup. One player famously had quite a successful date while holding a bronze bust of Captain Kirk in front of him. Eventually the programmers ended up just leaving things well enough alone. As long as you can hold a semi-decent conversation with an NPC then that¡¯s good enough. Owata smiled the smile of a businessman. ¡°Hello! Have you come for healing?¡± If you want something from an NPC, then you must be polite. Any player who walked up to a female NPC saying something along the lines of, ¡°Yo BITCH! Gimme a kiss!¡± would quickly discover the entire town refusing to talk to him for at least a day. No talking means no buying or selling. No buying and selling means time spent NOT making money. No income means no new magic items, healing potions, or spells, and an inventory rapidly overloading with drop items during game play. Multiple offenses would increase the time required before anyone would deal with the offender, and eventually other towns would ¡°hear¡± and also refuse to deal with that person. Since all NPCs are immortal in order for people to buy and sell from them, a player had no recourse but to be polite the next chance he got. It literally paid to be polite to NPCs. ¡°No sir,¡± he replied in a monotone, ¡°I come to you for training.¡± No need for role-playing when it¡¯s just an NPC. ¡°Oh ho! You wish to join the honored ranks of healers, do you?¡± ¡°Yes sir.¡± ¡°100 gold pieces.¡± New players start with 1000 gold pieces to buy everything they need, so this was actually a fairly small expense. Coins exchanged hands. ¡°With this, you are one of us. Don¡¯t die, and don¡¯t let anyone else die.¡± ¡°Thank you, sir.¡± Now where is the weapon trainer? I didn¡¯t see one on the map¡­ Since there was another player fairly close by he decided to sprint in that direction to ask. Moving around a rock he¡ª Slammed face-first into a wall. -2 hp helpfully flashed in front of his eyes. ¡°Ow. Ow. Ow.¡± He rubbed his nose. A faint ¡°I want to have a nosebleed¡± feeling came from it, but fortunately the game didn¡¯t think he hit hard enough for that to occur. Wait¡­ Suspicious, he checked his map again. He was right; he had suddenly teleported backwards about twenty feet. The wall he hit was one he had passed earlier. ¡°Goddamn lag¡­¡± Sometimes in MMOs there is a difference in processing speed, due to slow computers, slow connections, or a server with a heavy load. When the difference becomes too great ¡°lag¡± occurs, and what the computer assumed happened (running ahead in this case) gets corrected by the server (no, you¡¯re actually at these coordinates). When that happens, noses meet walls. A light tinkling laughter came from behind him, and when he whipped around he saw a gorgeous woman with long curly blond hair wearing completely inappropriate gold armor molded around massive cleavage. A massive golden greatsword¡¯s hilt peeked from behind her shoulder. A tiny garter belt strap crept out from under the royal blue cheerleader-like pleated miniskirt. Sexy white stockings clung lovingly to DEM LEGS that went A-L-L the way up. Naturally, she wore high heels (golden, of course). Over her head was the name ¡°Delightful Delilah¡±. Obviously, she was a GIRL, as in "Guy In Real Life". ¡°That just got saved to video. Smile, you¡¯re on NewTube. Oh, wait. Seriously?¡± She gave him a you gotta be kidding me look, now that he had turned around enough for her to see his choice in body and clothes. ¡°What?¡± He was already starting to dislike her. ¡°Fail.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Fail. Total write-off. Complete loss. Zero out of ten. What part of that didn¡¯t you get?¡± ¡°What¡¯s wrong with me?¡± He demanded. Damn it, this body is freaking cute, you know! ¡°Seriously?¡± She repeated herself, clearly doubting his intelligence now. He looked back at her, his temper rising. She sighed the sigh of Give me strength, Lord while covering her eyes with her hand. ¡°Right, look. One: You¡¯re an ELF cleric. Everyone knows dwarves make for better clerics. Elves are made for magic slinging and archery, not prayer.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t want to be a dwarf.¡± ¡°Obviously.¡± The sarcasm was scathing. ¡°Two: You went for the cutie-pie boy-band face, which nobody here cares for, because actual pretty boys wouldn¡¯t be playing this game anyway and everyone has lost a girlfriend or sister to that goddamn Interview with the Twilight series. Expect to get back-stabbed every day by random people ¡®just because¡¯ and by your own teammates, assuming you find a team -- which you won¡¯t because you¡¯re toxic.¡± ¡°What do you mean, ¡®toxic¡¯?¡± She sighed the sigh of math teachers forced to explain how one plus one equals two to dumb kids who couldn''t get it. ¡°Three: If you¡¯re going to be joining a team, especially as a support-caster like a cleric -- and with a name like ¡®HealzPleaze¡¯ (seriously?) -- it¡¯s obvious that¡¯s what you¡¯re trying for, so you have to look the part. That means looking like a dependable man, or ideally a beautiful woman, because beautiful supportive women are everywhere in fantasy and have always had a place on a team. And here you are, a beautiful BOY.¡± His face tried to eat itself as he slowly sank to his knees. Was it really THAT bad? ¡°Four: Joining a team means fighting other player teams, and unlike monsters players know to target the squishy wizards and support-casters FIRST. So it makes sense for them to dress like something else. Wizards here dress like assassins or monks, and support-clerics dress like fighters even if they can¡¯t fight. And here you are, with that name, and a freaking RED CROSS on your chest! Everything about you is screaming, ¡®Hey! Come kill me!¡¯¡± His head throbbed from pushing all available blood into making his face blush. His ears were roaring as they burned red from the shame and embarrassment. ¡°And finally, five¡ªMurderous Slash!¡± With a strength and speed impossible for a normal person, the greatsword swung down on his head, chopping his entire body into two equal pieces. ¡°I want to kill you too.¡± -58 hp His life went to zero in an instant from damage that hit in the hundreds. The newly separated pieces of his body fell to the left and right as blood splashed out and pooled into a puddle. Dramatic ¡°you goofed¡± music played as his world turned to red, and then black. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.* Dunh dunh dunh! *
You have died and lost 50gp. Please wait 1 minute for revival. 0:59
What? But¡­? ¡­ ...HOW? ¡­ I just started! You aren¡¯t supposed to be able to kill new players like that! Isn¡¯t there supposed to be a ¡°duel request¡± or something first? When the thirty seconds were up the world reappeared along with his body¡­ or rather, his naked ghost body. If he had the Mature Content option turned off, he would have kept at least his clothes. ¡°Map.¡± He was back at the start point. On the map now was a new marker: ¡°HealzPleaze¡±, his actual body. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- LTO ¨C Newb Fail LOL! Delightful Delilah Subscribe -> 2,043,015 59,821 views Uploaded 1 minute ago Bahahahahahahahaha!!!! I bitch slapped the guy bad at 6:00 xD. All Comments (85) -.-I-is][Mighty\| Evil Pixie For all these dumb asses out there this is an example for why you should wear a HELMET!!!! -.-I-is][Mighty\| Kittypoo Aww¡­ he was cute¡­ -.-I-is][Mighty\| RICHARDRICHARDRICHARD +Kittypoo you are so fucking stupid for feeling sorry for him that you need to get beaten like a stupid bitch and make me a sandwich -.-I-is][Mighty\| MagicHax0r What village this in game? I wanna kill him too! -.-I-is][Mighty\| Mighty Nesmith Race you! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nobody was around when he finally made it back to his body. When he touched it the corpse disappeared and all of his items and gold (now at 850 gps) reinstalled themselves. Suddenly a foot of steel projected out from his chest as a sword buried itself into his back. ¡°Ninja, bitches!¡± said someone from behind him, and as his world faded to black he discovered that his killer¡¯s name was ¡°Mighty Nesmith¡±. -60 hp * Dunh dunh dunh! *
You have died and lost 100gp. Please wait 2 minutes for revival. 1:59
WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR??? He made his back to his body once more, this time taking the long scenic casual route¡­ Well, as casual as a buck naked person can do, moving from tree to tree. He was feeling clammy, like his body was sweating a lot. When he made it to his body finally, he double-checked his map. No green triangles. Nobody around. He zoomed it out a bit. A number of green triangles, facing his way. Damn. Tag and dash then. He resurrected (now with 750 gold) and turned to run in the opposite direction of the players listed on his map. Suddenly a green triangle appeared on the map at the same time as a flash of light. In front of him was what looked like an assassin¡­ ninja¡­ guy. He was dressed in loose black and red desert clothing with a black turban on his head, a black scarf mask covering his nose and mouth, and wearing dual scimitars on his back. With a flourish ¡°MagicHax0r¡± pulled his swords out and, with a "WHHoooooaaaAAHHH" spun them about flashily before pointing one at an entirely too-cute elf and saying, quite calmly, ¡°Fireball.¡± Elf chunks flew everywhere as the rest was blasted into a fine red mist. -60 hp * Dunh dunh dunh! *
You have died and lost 200gp. Please wait 4 minutes for revival. 3:59
WHAT. THE. HELL. SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL? He started to feel sick, like he had indigestion, but he was too angry and upset to care. The seconds ticked away far too slowly, and his breathing became a little shallower with each minute. Occasionally he tried to belch on purpose to relieve the bloated feeling coming from his stomach. Finally he was back in the game world. Just get my body, and log off. There were five players camping near his body. However, standing obliviously near them was NPC Mick Smaster, Alchemist Trainer. Maybe¡­ ¡°Guys, he¡¯s here.¡± Said a heavily-muscled pirate thug named ¡°Arrrgh Arrrrrrrrrr¡±. ¡°Come on over, we won¡¯t hurt you¡­ much!¡± Laughed a certain dandy ¡°Captain Mycaptain¡±. The other three just drew their weapons, and aimed them at his body. Gotta time this just right¡­ He knelt next to his body, not covering up his genitals this time. One hand reached out to touch his corpse, the other to¡ª ¡°ICOMETOYOUFORTRAINING!¡± The world turned chaotic around him as multiple spells and sword slashes attacked, but NPCs are immortal and trading with one means you too are protected¡­ but only while you are trading. Of course, spell damage still has to go somewhere¡­ ¡°OW, MOTHER FU¡ª¡± ¡°GODDAMN WARMAGES!¡± There were two new corpses behind him now. The other three glared at him. They may have been slightly kidding before, but this time they were serious. They wanted him dead. Mick smiled the smile of a businessman. ¡°Ha! You wish to join our chemist brotherhood, do you?¡± NOW I can role-play. ¡°Oh yes sir! It¡¯s been my lifelong dream to learn about¡ª¡± ¡°100 gold pieces.¡± Nuts. Damn NPCs¡­ Money... exchanged... hands¡­ slowly... ¡°Welcome to the pharmacy club. May all your potions be potent!¡± ¡°Thank¡­ you¡­ sir.¡± As the last word left his lips, he was simultaneously beheaded, electrocuted, and impaled from crotch to neck. Of course, this meant that the two carrying swords got electrocuted as well, and two more bodies joined the first in hitting the ground. HAH! WORTH IT! -60 hp * Dunh dunh dunh! *
You have died and lost 400gp. Please wait 8 minutes for revival. 7:59
His indigestion was getting worse. Pain was starting to fill his chest, and his left arm was beginning to feel numb. Just a little more, and then I can take some anti-gas medicine and aspirin. By the time the world came back he was already gasping painful breaths. Walking casually towards some monsters in the distance was Delightful Delilah. Finally, some answers. He teleported backwards twice due to lag, but eventually he caught up. ¡°HEY!¡± She turned to look at him, sword flashing into hand¡­ and then made a disgusted face. ¡°Dude. Eww.¡± He was past caring about modesty. ¡°Tell me, how can you all kill me? I thought you couldn¡¯t kill a new player without a duel request or PVP arena or something like that!¡± Her eyes boggled at him briefly, looked at the monsters walking away, and then she sighed the sigh of a husband who¡¯s just been told to take out the trash¡­ in the rain¡­ while the Big Game was on¡­ ¡°Seriously?¡± ¡°TELL ME!¡± ¡°Did you look at the options under [Mature Content]?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°What, did you think ¡®Mature Content¡¯ only meant sex? Get real. It includes ¡®Violent Content¡¯, meaning blood and guts, and ¡®Realistic Mode¡¯, meaning you¡¯re okay with as much realism as possible, and THAT includes friendly fire and PVP. Got it, dumbass?¡± With that, she huffed off into the forest, one-hit-killing everything in her way. He slowly trudged back to his body. It was getting difficult to focus. He no longer noticed his gasping. His corpse was completely naked. Someone had stripped him of all his possessions. ¡°WHAT ARE YOU GUYS, TWELVE?!!¡± Immediately following that outburst the pain in his chest became a squeezing. The squeezing became a clamp. The clamp became a vice. The vice became his entire existence. His existence turned into white chaos. The white chaos turned into black nothingness. In the game world, both the body and ¡®spirit¡¯ of HealzPleaze the Cleric/Alchemist lay on the ground, the letters ¡°AFK¡± ("Away From Keyboard") floating over them. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- LTO ¨C Newb Dies Many Times Delightful Delilah Subscribe -> 2,043,325 127,029 views Uploaded 9 minutes ago Idiot left the Mature Content on the whole time xD. All Comments (125) -.-I-is][Mighty\| Age of Anarchy lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol I liked the part where you said seriously -.-I-is][Mighty\| MagicHax0r That¡¯s me at 6:15 :) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nipple-Forts and New Arrivals Reality is far more malleable than you may think. The laws of physics can be altered. The world may be both billions of years old and also only a few thousand. It¡¯s not a matter of who you ask; it may actually be that way. Can only two people populate an entire planet? Of course that¡¯s completely impossible¡­ except when it happens. Under certain conditions the impossible can become possible. Each universe resides in its own dimension. Each dimension is like a soap bubble floating in the wind. Inside each soap bubble, a Supreme Being exists, born during the dimension¡¯s creation. In a way, perhaps, it could be considered sentient. Although it is self-aware, it does not think, because it knows. It knows everything in the universe, because it is everything in the universe. It has one job, one reason for existence. Everything it does is to preserve its bubble, to keep itself balanced. Sometimes a Supreme Being creates sentient entities to help keep the balance. Sometimes those entities create life, and with it, people. Those people tend to call the entities, ¡°Gods¡±, even though each one is merely a tiny part of a much greater whole. A God of Good, along with a God of Evil. A God of Law, and a God of Chaos. A God of Life, and a God of Death. Minor facet gods can appear, like the Goddess of Crops, and the God of Disease. Sometimes a god can be two facets, such as Law and Good. It doesn¡¯t matter, as long as the all-important balance is kept. And sometimes¡­ two dimensions meet. When that happens, the barrier where the two soap bubbles touch becomes thinner, and information, energy and even souls can transfer. At that moment, all reality in each dimension changes. If both dimensions are similar in size and ¡°flavor¡±, then they become mirror-like, where Dimension A is where the North won the war, and Dimension B is where the South won the war, or where the Federation expanded peacefully through the galaxy in A, and the Empire conquered its way through the galaxy in B, and it has always been that way. If Dimension A has a better ¡°flavor¡±, then Dimension B becomes a twisted version of A. Perhaps B turns into a ¡°looking glass¡± version with disappearing Cheshire Cats and giant talking drug-addicted caterpillars. Perhaps B turns into a dystopian version of A, with total war and devastation. Perhaps B becomes ¡°Hell¡±, and its ¡°demonic¡± inhabitants try to cross over and conquer the other, more prosperous dimension. If the barrier is allowed to be breached enough, the walls between the two soap bubbles may come down, and the two dimensions (along with their Supreme Beings) merge to become one. When that happens, reality shifts again to a more normal, more stable footing, and it has always been that way. Whenever two dimensions meet and connect, a certain kind of energy is released, and tends to collect in the smaller of the two. It is a chaotic type of energy, and if there¡¯s enough of it reality in that dimension becomes extremely unstable. The laws of physics are forced to change into something much more basic, and suddenly it¡¯s possible to have fantasy kingdoms with elves and fairies and zombies and Demon Lords and kidnapped princesses and the occasional summoned-or-reincarnated hero, and of course, it has always been that way. The destabilizing, chaotic energy that can warp reality is called ¡°magic¡±. So what happens when multiple soap bubbles meet? In Dimension M, an ordinary, boring human dies an ordinary, boring death while playing an MMO game. Perhaps an exchange was made. Perhaps a soul was carried over somewhere else. Perhaps something was removed. Perhaps something was added. Meanwhile in Dimension E¡­ Teresa awoke with the dawn, the sun¡¯s reflected light making its way into her room. In this world where an attack can come from anywhere, windows only invite invasion. She gave her morning prayers to the Goddess Ilya while still wrapped in her blankets. Her room wasn¡¯t freezing in the autumn weather, only cold enough that one would want to wear a sweater. The nipple-fort was well made, after all. ¡°Nipple-forts¡± are one of humanity''s many answers to this world. For there is magic here. At any moment your home can be destroyed by monsters coming from the north, east, west, or south. Death can come from above, and it can come from below. Death can come from inside. A nipple-fort is a defensive fortification of three rings: The central tower, where the important people live and where magic casters can fire their spells with the best line of sight; the inner ring, the slightly shorter wall where most of the residents live and which provides covering fire for attacks from above or inside; and the outer ring, which is the shortest of all and serves as the guards¡¯ barracks and the first line of defense against attacks from land. All rooms are made compartmentalized with almost no windows, much like a medieval submarine, to protect against poisonous gases, sudden fires, or vaporous intruders. Underneath the fort is a cistern for keeping fresh water, and a special holding area for subterranean creatures: a welcoming gift for anyone or anything attempting to burrow in from below. Viewed from above, the nipple-fort looks like a certain part of the anatomy, hence the name. After thanking the Goddess Ilya for her daily spells, Teresa cranked cold water from the pump that was built into the floor into her wash basin that doubled as a bath during warmer times. Lavender filled the air as she washed her body, burn scars and all, with the scented soap (a luxury around these parts) she got a month back from the last merchant caravan that passed through, still trying to keep her lethargic body warm. Quickly weaving her long blond hair into its usual ponytail knot with her cold fingers, she pulled out today¡¯s clothes from the oak drawer by her bed and the tall white wooden cabinet that stood against the grayish-brown brick wall. First to be worn was her ¡°protection¡±, a soft black linen half-mask that was made to cover the ruined part of her face. No sense in scaring the children any more than she already does. After putting on the white long-sleeved woolen underwear blouse and the matching underwear leggings, she donned her blue-and-white nun¡¯s habit. She hid her hair under her usual nun¡¯s coif that covered her head. Finally, she shrugged her way into her plate armor. It wasn¡¯t a full set, the gauntlets and legs were missing and the helmet didn¡¯t fit her anymore, but that was okay. She preferred the ability to run without sounding like somebody¡¯s kitchen was escaping and not having one¡¯s vision blocked by a visor is helpful when one only has one eye to see with. She went through the day¡¯s schedule in her mind as she dumped last night¡¯s clothes into the wash basin, to be washed in the evening when the heat from the ovens downstairs warmed it up to the fullest. Today is the funeral for old Farmer Johnday. Also, I need to prepare three scrolls, check on those two who got into a drunken fight last night and make sure they¡¯re healing alright, bless Farmer May¡¯s new calf¡­ As a priest, she had to preside over functions such as weddings and funerals. As a cleric, she had to bless and heal. As a user of magic, she had to pay taxes in the form of spell scrolls. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The more magic you have on your side, the safer you are. This is a fundamental truth of the world. Most people won¡¯t even consider living in any place that doesn¡¯t have at least a magician or cleric residing there. However, magic does not come easily. Only one in a thousand are born with the natural ability to become a magician. Although apparently anyone can become a cleric no matter how young or old, male or female, human or other, each god can only have up to a thousand or so clerics at best, depending on whatever currency or power source it is that a god must use. As a god grows stronger, the number of clerics serving him or her grows too. The next best thing to having a caster in residence is to have a stockpile of scrolls that can be cast by any person with the ability to read. As Teresa left her bedroom and entered the main hall of her church, she had to sigh. ¡°Bitsy¡± the dog was sleeping next to the altar, having pulled the tablecloth down again to make a bed with. The statue of the Goddess Ilya was somehow still okay on top of the altar (a minor miracle to be sure). The Holy Truths of Ilya wasn¡¯t so lucky, having fallen onto the floor, opened to the Divine Prophecies. ¡°1.2.4 And there came unto the People a GIRL that was not born of Woman, and a Boy that could melt all Hearts. And all Bodies were Cleansed in the Light of Hope.¡± Bitsy thumped her tail ¡®tap tap tap¡¯ on the floor upon seeing her, but didn¡¯t move an inch. Her swollen belly, not full of food but of puppies-to-be, quivered a little. Almost time for you to pop, huh? Not on THAT you don¡¯t! ¡°Yeah, yeah, ¡®tap tap¡¯ to you too. You DO realize the cloth you¡¯re sleeping on is supposed to be clean and pure, to symbolize the clean and pure image of Great Lady Ilya, RIGHT?¡± Arguing with dogs is rarely productive. Bitsy raised her head and looked at Teresa. A small whine came out, and her tail thumped ¡®tap tap TAP TAP¡¯ in a clear, ¡°please feed me,¡± message. Teresa sighed again, the sigh of all pushovers at the sight of needy adorableness. She left the church floor of the central tower, and walked the stairs down past the almost empty second floor (to be given to the magician Lord Bowen was trying to attract) and down to the ground floor where the storage rooms and kitchens were. Most of the community¡¯s dogs and cats were already begging the cooks, who were preparing breakfast. Dogs and cats are essential for home defense. Dogs have keen senses of smell and hearing, making invisible and phased intruders far easier to spot, and cats can see ethereal creatures and enjoy hunting small vermin, such as insects, rodents, and the occasional gremlin. As such, both are welcome and raised by the community as a whole, with early training so that they will know what their duties are. The trickiest part has always been to teach them where to relieve themselves. Emilya Evans was a cook who could easily be mistaken to be a man. She had large, thick arms from her work, no makeup (¡°It might get in the food, idiot!¡±), and only bothered to shave off her mustache when it annoyed her enough. Her light brown hair was cut very short to avoid the heat from the many stoves and what was left was tucked under a large plain scarf. Like a man, she focused on only one thing at a time and desired nothing more than to get back to her work ¡°without so much jawing¡±. However, she always made time to pet her ¡®babies¡¯. The first meal of the day was a light breakfast for them, since the other villagers will most likely share some of their meals as well. Emilya grunted at the Teresa when she saw her, pointing her head at a counter top where two dishes sat, a large one for the nun with potatoes and ham, and a slightly smaller one for Bitsy, made of the meaty mash of spare parts and grains that served as pet food. Having fed herself and a pregnant dog (and swapped a blanket for the tablecloth after some effort), Teresa left the nipple-fort and headed out to the graveyard¡­ or rather, to the furnace on consecrated ground. The dead can rise from their graves (even with proper precautions), and rather than bury their loved ones again most families opt to simply burn the bodies completely to ash. Ghosts are remarkably more difficult to deal with than zombies, but vampires are on another level completely. It¡¯s best to be safe. She spoke words of comfort and hope to the bereaved families of Farmer Johnday Evans and finally left near lunchtime. Stopping by the General Store in the inner ring of the nipple-fort, she bought a number of blank scrolls and some more ink from Robin Evans, and spent a nice hour sharing lunch and chatting with the busty brown-haired gossip about who did what to who and WOULD YOU BELIEVE that such-and-so was secretly seeing THIS person? George and John Evans were NOT happy to see Teresa, and she gave them good reason to not be happy as she sternly and thoroughly lectured them on self-control and drinking in moderation while seeing to a broken arm and cracked head. Their wives Hilda and Kathy nodded and agreed and added some ¡®percussive enhancement¡¯ to the lecture. The baby calf was, of course, adorable. Farmer May Evans beamed as if she were the mother instead as Teresa gave a formal Blessing and asked Goddess Ilya to watch over this farm and to please bring prosperity to her worshipers. It was evening when she got back to the central tower. It was far warmer inside now that the kitchen was in full swing for the evening meals, but oddly¡­ no dogs or cats around. Emilya shoved a number of buckets of what seemed like pet food and a plate of plate of real food at her and said, simply, ¡°Dropped eight, one scroll.¡± ¨C Meaning that Bitsy had given birth to a litter of eight, but that a spell scroll was required to save either the mother or a puppy. ¡°How did--¡± (you get your hands on a scroll?) she almost asked but a rare blush on the cook¡¯s face told all. Kitchens have first-aid kits in case of accidents, and Emilya obviously ransacked one to help out one of her beloved ¡®babies¡¯. Make that FOUR scrolls I have to make now¡­ Mike Evans gallantly offered to carry the buckets with a handsome smile, his wavy brown hair glowing golden in the magical light that illuminated the stairs. She smiled a flirty thank you to him as the two eventually made their way up to the church level. Every single dog and cat in the community looked up at them. They were seated in a full circle around¡­ ¡°What the hell?¡± asked Mike. ¡°Oh Great Lady.¡± Teresa gasped. In the center of the animals slept Bitsy and eight puppies on a rumpled blue blanket....and a naked person, wrapped in the tablecloth that had been pulled off the altar. The statue of the Goddess Ilya was somehow still okay on top of the altar (a minor miracle to be sure). The Holy Truths of Ilya wasn¡¯t so lucky, having fallen onto the floor, opened to the Divine Prophecies. ¡°1.7.4 And lo our LADY ILYA didst say, ¡®I wave MY Hand, and create Fields of Grain. I give a Breath, and create Life. Who is to say that I, your Goddess, cannot Do so again?¡¯ and the people rejoiced, for though Death comes to all, new Life can come as well.¡± The person had silvery-blue hair, pointed ears, and was clearly not human. Sex in the Citadel? Humans. The best one can say about them is that they are average. And that¡¯s the problem. Orcs are much stronger and more ambitious. Elves are more intelligent, have more magic, and live longer. Dwarves are more durable, closer to the divine, and brew better beer (a major selling point). Halflings are sneakier and friendlier and thus live much quieter lives. Goblins are FAR more¡­ shall we say, fecund? However, humans have somehow reached the special balance between intelligence, life-span, magical power and breeding potential, and by being so exceedingly average, can live almost anywhere. So they live everywhere. A race that has never met a human before does not exist. Humans are also extremely varied in their personalities, so you never know if the next human you meet will smile and be helpful, or will pull out a weapon to kill you with. Even if the human you met once was nice, that does not mean his children will also be nice. While the human population boom is rapidly becoming a problem for the other races and species on the planet, humans have another, far more disquieting tendency: Humans are SLUTS. Half-elf, half-orc, half-dwarf, half-halfling, half-goblin, half-dragon, half-demon¡­ it seems almost anyone can breed with a human. One-third of all human writings celebrate the act of slaughtering their foes. The rest celebrates the act of mating with them. This fact has not gone unnoticed. How does one deal with such creatures, knowing that the other side most likely out-numbers you, rivals you in power, and may be imagining you dead? Or worse, naked? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He was in deep trouble, and he was naked. His body was¡­ ¡°wrong¡± is perhaps the best word for it. It wouldn¡¯t move. It couldn¡¯t move. There was just no energy to move with. Even existing was something his body really didn¡¯t want to bother with right now. It was also not his body. He had lived with his old body for some sixty-odd years, and had accordingly gotten somewhat attached to it, so he could tell this was NOT his body. It was smaller, lighter, thinner, and his senses were far sharper. There was some sort of cloth wrapped around his body, but it didn¡¯t do much to keep him warm. His arms and legs were completely uncovered and cold. He was lying, paralyzed and naked, in what seemed like a church. It had the echoing, wide-open spaces feeling that most churches he knew had. There was the smell of varnished wood for pews. The stone floor had the smooth, dusty feel as if from the feet of many a church-goer, and it had the aura. He felt like he was drowning in it. It surrounded him, pressured him, and tried to get inside of him, only instead of water it was faith. Faith and the divine power of... Well, it could only be a god, right? Hi God. You wanna lay off for a minute? Trying to exist here. Arguments with gods (and churches, for that matter) are rarely productive. There was a whole lot of somethings next to him. They didn¡¯t speak, but from their movements it seemed like there were two types of creatures. They were all four-legged, but there was a large type that ¡°pad pad¡± walked (a high-speed type?) and a smaller type that ¡°click click¡± walked (claws, those are definitely claws). I am completely surrounded, I¡¯m in a church, and I¡¯m naked. This can¡¯t be good. * STAAAAAAAAAAARE * And they were staring at him... a lot. Occasionally one of the ¡°pad pad¡± types panted loudly as it shifted position. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. There were various noises going on elsewhere. Something sizzled. Many things clinked and clanked. Something called out something, and something else replied. It could be speech; it could be mating calls for all he could tell. He couldn¡¯t spare the energy to listen properly. It was taking all his energy just to keep breathing. Any normal person from this world would probably chalk up their reincarnation as magic (since magic can do anything), and might idly wonder if it was accidental or intentional. The creatures surrounding him hadn¡¯t done anything yet, and the aura the church was exuding was of one of the more benevolent gods, so it was safe to assume they weren¡¯t going to. But he was far from normal. Magic didn¡¯t exist in his original world. Gods who were very THERE didn¡¯t exist in his original world, and things like reincarnation just simply didn¡¯t happen, outside of fiction. And speaking of fiction¡­ In his world he had pornography. As a man in his late sixties who had been single most of his life, he had quite the collection of pornography. Church + Paralyzed + Naked + Creatures + Surrounded = BAD NEWS. * STAAAAAAAAAAARE * He could feel them. * STAAAAAAAAAAARE * If he had the energy his skin would be raising in goosebumps right now. And then he heard footsteps climbing the stairs up towards him. Two sets of footsteps. Bipeds? Or some sort of boss creature? The creatures surrounding him turned as one to look. ¡°[What the hell?]¡± Exclaimed a voice. ¡°[Oh Great Lady.]¡± Gasped another voice. Apparently they were bipeds after all. People. A male and a female, from their voices probably both adults. They sounded surprised to see him. Well, that¡¯s fair. I¡¯m surprised to be here too. I¡¯d get up and shake your hands, but I¡¯m kinda paralyzed right now. And naked. A little help please? ¡°[Mike, I¡¯m going to report this to Lord Bowen. You keep watch over here?]¡± ¡°[Got it.]¡± Unknown language. He had no idea what they were saying. Female Voice turned and ran out of the room and up more stairs. A cacophony of whining and meowing erupted from the creatures surrounding him as they moved as one to beg from Male Voice. Oh. So they were dogs and cats, huh? Geez, don¡¯t I feel silly. ¡°[Okay. Okay! OKAY! DOWN! You¡¯ll get fed¡­ Damn, I don¡¯t have any plates. Well, you guys are just going to have to share for today.]¡± * Clanketty-clank ka-tunk * Something metal¡­ maybe¡­ buckets? A number of them. I smell something food-like. ¡°[Okay cats, these are for you. NO. I said these are for the CATS. Go over there. Go on!]¡± His language sounds¡­ Gaelic? Mixed with Russian, perhaps? I¡¯m hearing ¡°nura-da¡± mixed with ¡°buro-shu-ke¡± and ¡°oleh-leh¡±. Maybe it¡¯s this world¡¯s version of ¡°English¡±, a hodge-podge of words from different languages mixed together. Male Voice stepped away from the animals, and started walking slowly towards him. Hey¡­ guy? I could use some food too. And clothes. And maybe you could turn the volume control on your GOD down a little? Male Voice knelt down on one leg beside him. ... The animals growled and hissed at each other over the food. There were more metallic sounds as the buckets got shoved around. ... Male Voice didn''t say anything. ... ... Uh... guy? Buddy? ... And then he felt the hem of the cloth covering him being lifted up. Seduction, and Fun With Tongues On the church floor of the main tower in Bowen Village, there existed a strangely beautiful elf boy, a human man, and a large group of dogs and cats. An odd grouping to be sure, but something more odd was happening... On one knee, the human Mike Evans leaned over the prone elf boy. His breathing got harsher. Slowly, very slowly, his hand reached out¡­ Touching the single white cloth covering the elf¡¯s perfect porcelain-like skin¡­ Lifting it up¡­ The boy had been unmoving all this time. In fact, he couldn¡¯t move at all. He had the appearance of being asleep, but his mind was completely awake, and afraid. NO! STOP! SOMEONE! NOT LIKE THIS! I DON¡¯T WANT TO LOSE MY ANAL VIRGINITY LIKE THIS! OR AT ALL, ACTUALLY! He still couldn¡¯t move his arms and legs, but perhaps he could move something smaller. Fingers? No, useless to try. Toes? Get real. Lips? Maybe... Vocal cords? Yes! A scream for help! That might work! He took an extra deep breath. Channeling all his fear and hope, he: ¡°Nnnnnnnaaaaaaaaaaaaooooooooo¡­¡± It wasn¡¯t a scream. Not really. It was more of a breathy sigh. ¡­It might even have been a little erotic. Outside he was motionless, a beautiful doll once more, but inside he was mentally bashing his brains against a wall in total anguish. I¡¯m screwed¡­ literally¡­ ¡°BAROOOOOWOOO!!!¡± It¡¯s in a dog¡¯s mentality to bark at strange sounds, especially if one has something to protect. Bitsy was awake, and not having any shenanigans around HER LITTER, thank you very much. ¡°GAHH!!!¡± Screamed a surprised Mike. GAHH!!! Was the internal scream of an elf whose sensitive ears just got temporarily deafened by a large dog. ¡°ROWOO-RUF-RUF-RUF!!!¡± Titus, alpha dog and Bitsy¡¯s mate, rose to defend his turf. ¡°Rowf!¡± ¡°Riff!¡± ¡°Bowoool!¡± Dibbs, Frisky, and Goldy barked mostly just to bark, but also to get in on whatever fun was happening right now. For the most part the cats left the Early Warning System to the dogs, although a few of the younger kittens did wander over to investigate. One cat, Benito, took advantage of the confusion to help himself to some unguarded food. ¡°WH-WHAT AM I DOING???¡± In a panic and in total mental confusion, Mike hurriedly yanked his hand away. Mike Evans was a handsome ladies man. He liked the girls, and the girls liked him. It was his pride. It was his identity. He could count the number of unattached females in the village he hadn¡¯t had on one hand, and still have fingers left over. So what in the Nine Hells just happened? Was he actually going to do the deed with a BOY? No. No way. It was just a fluke, right? He looked down at the BOY again. His fingers were caressing the elf¡¯s perfectly kissable lips. Such a lovely face¡­ How did that song about elves go again¡­? His fingers travelled up the boy¡¯s chiseled cheek to the adorable pointed ears. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. He leaned over to¡ª Titus leaned in to sniff the situation. Goldy burrowed under his arm so she could lick his face from below. Mike growled unconsciously. Damn dogs, interrupting him when he¡¯s about to¡­ Oh crap. ¡°GAHH!¡± This time he propelled his whole body backwards. Goldy and Dibbs followed. Human on his back = Play Time! GET HIM! ¡°Ack! Thpth!¡± Mike¡¯s sexual confusion was not helped by being accidentally French-kissed by two dogs in a licking frenzy. Sister Teresa¡¯s habit whipped and flapped as her legs pelted down the stairs. Lord Bowen in his evening robe followed, a bit slower but in no less a hurry. He was worried. A strange non-human suddenly appearing in a church? Now? Before the arrival of the Sentinal? It was an Event. It had to be. This could be very bad. The fact that it was Sister Teresa (the only magic caster in the village) who found the body, most likely meant she had something to do with the stranger in the near future. Teresa had her¡­ quirks¡­ but she was still better than nobody at all. We could lose her. That thought made him even more worried about the safety of the village. HIS village. He hurried past the suddenly stopped nun, entering the church and¡ª To the left there was a writhing pack of wagging tails, a literal ¡®dog pile¡¯ of bodies covering someone. Occasionally, sounds of ¡°Ackthpth!¡± and ¡°Stop!¡± came out from underneath. In the center of the church on a blue blanket Bitsy lay exhausted, her new puppies yipping and struggling for milk and warmth. To the right was an incredibly beautiful elf boy, looking around ten or twelve ¨C although who can tell with elves? His unconscious naked body was only partially covered by a white cloth and the proof of his maleness peeked out from underneath. Benito waddled over, purring happily as he pressed up against his leg¡­ and then burped loudly. Ignoring the cat, Lord Bowen walked over to the boy and knelt on one knee. Silvery-blue hair¡­ That¡¯s unusual even for an elf¡­ Teresa came over, carrying Benito in her arms. ¡°Um, your Lordship? What shall we do with him?¡± Hmm¡­ Let him stay with Sister Teresa? No. Let¡¯s keep them separate for now. Perhaps¡­ ah, right. ¡°Let¡¯s put him in the unused quarters on level two for right now. He should be fine there until we can finally get ourselves a mage and we can keep an eye on him as well.¡± ¡°Yes sir.¡± Teresa didn¡¯t move. In fact, she looked a bit embarrassed. Benito purred himself to sleep. ¡°Is there a problem?¡± Teresa''s face turned a little more red. ¡°Um, sir¡­ your hand¡­¡± It was only then did he realize that he was ruffling the boy¡¯s hair, with a relaxed and contented smile on his face. My apologies for the delay again. Apparently cold + crappy cold medicine + lack of sleep = +100 to difficulty! Counting the Bed Visitors, From Nun to Three From the Diary of Blake Bowen, Lord of Bowen Village: Autumn, in my 35th year and the 19th of my rule: I still await the coming of the Sentinel. I was told that the final installment was properly paid and a group of guild adventurers will be bringing it this month. I pray to Ilya that nothing unforeseen happens to it, for it is my hope that the increased security that it will bring to my village will attract more tradesmen to stay here. We need more people who can read and write. Johnday Evans was put to rest today. He was a good friend and will be greatly missed. His laugh was the loudest I have ever heard and could make even the cattle happier. I gave three silvers to his wife so that she may hire additional farmhands until winter comes. On this evening a naked elf suddenly appeared in the Church of Ilya, of amazing beauty, absolutely fluffy hair, and oddly compelling body. When I had him moved to the unused mage quarters on the second level, I had to direct Sister Teresa quite severely lest she molest the boy as she carried him. I have ordered the servants to watch over his movements but not to come near. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Teresa dropped her armor onto its stand with a ¡®kathunk¡¯, and tiredly wiped it clean with a damp cloth before giving it a light coating of oil to protect it from rust. It had been a long day, and a longer night. After putting the elf boy to bed (and yes she had accidentally confirmed it was most definitely a BOY), she discovered her dinner had been eaten by cats¡­ or perhaps just Benito. She had to sneak down to the pantry to make a sandwich, no easy task when wearing plate armor. Well, Emilya owed her a favor anyways after burning a scroll for the sake of Bitsy and her puppies. She set out the blank scrolls and ink pot for tomorrow¡¯s writing, and after giving thanks to the Goddess Ilya for the day, asking for wisdom with regards to the new elf, and praying for the next day¡¯s spells, she scattered her clothes onto the floor and dove under the bedsheets. She was almost instantly asleep. Joan opened her eyes and sat bolt upright in bed. She quickly gathered the scattered clothes from the floor. Going somewhere? ¡°Just to get some answers.¡± Joan put on the long-sleeved woolen undershirt, still slightly smelling of sweat. Teresa won¡¯t be happy if you get too violent again. ¡°I won¡¯t. I serve the Truth.¡± She pulled on the matching woolen underpants. Were you serving the Truth when you broke George¡¯s arm and cracked John¡¯s head? ¡°YOU were the one who broke George¡¯s arm.¡± Was that me? I can¡¯t remember. We were pretty drunk at the time. ¡°He called Teresa a slut for having sexual relations with that Mike person outside of wedlock.¡± She slipped into the blue nun¡¯s habit. Ah. I was wondering why I didn¡¯t feel guilty about it¡­ ¡°Personally, while the wording was harsher than I would have said, I also don¡¯t approve of it. She could do better than that¡­ guy. As for John, he made an improper advance to a lady.¡± You think ANYTHING is ¡°an improper advance to a lady.¡± ¡°I do NOT! His hand clearly touched my¡­ my¡­¡± Joan started blushing. Your what? Speak clearly. Joan blushed an even more red. ¡°My br¡­ bre¡­¡± Your breast? Oh my gosh! He¡¯s lucky to be ALIVE! ¡°Don¡¯t be sarcastic!¡± Oh what a smooth operator he must have been, to touch your breast through PLATE ARMOR. Seriously Joaniekins, you have to get over your fear of men. ¡°Don¡¯t call me ¡®Joaniekins¡¯. You know why I distrust them.¡± Grumpily Joan stomped out of the bedroom for the main hall of the church. She was forced to switch to a much less noisy walk when Bitsy looked up at her with a ¡®why are you up so late¡¯ look. Titus thumped his tail at her. She made sure the puppies were properly covered by the blue blanket and patted the new parents before quietly leaving. Lord Bowen is sure to have left someone watching the elf. You KNOW who, right? ¡°Ugh. I¡¯m not good with him.¡± You¡¯re not good with ANY man. He knows me better than you, so I¡¯ll do the talking. Okay? Joan sighed the sigh of one agreeing to something stupid, but with no alternatives. ¡°Fine.¡± Joan closed her eyes. Cynthia opened them. ¡°Plus, I¡¯m a WHOLE lot better at moving quietly than you. He¡¯ll never know we were there.¡± Daniel sat in the chair by the door to the bedroom, staring deeply at the elf, licking his face with his eyes. His fingers wrote feverishly. ¡°No! You mustn¡¯t!¡± screamed the elf princess, her tears making her face only more appealing. However, the throbbing bulge in her wet panties said otherwise. Quickly he grabbed her soft, silvery-blue ponytail, pulling her onto the altar and ripping off her¡ª Daniel Bowen is a very happy man. That¡¯s not what he¡¯d tell you, but it is (more or less) the truth. Born the bastard son of Edgar Bowen (the current Lord Bowen¡¯s uncle) and the commoner maid Meg Evans, his ¡°half-breed¡± heritage showed itself in his brown (but not black) skin, and dark (but not curly) hair. An outsider to both Bowens and Evans, his childhood was¡­ unfortunate. A distrust of people and a need to prove his superiority over his childhood ¡°friends¡± somewhere¡­ anywhere¡­ made him dive into books for solace. He learned how to read, write, and do math before anyone else of his age, and do it far better than them as well. At the age of eight, Edgar Bowen finally accepted him as his own son and heir. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Naturally, this made his childhood¡­ much worse. When Lord Blake Bowen came to power, partly as an apology and partly in recognition of Daniel¡¯s mathematical prowess, he quickly put him in charge of shoring up the weak family finances, granting him full access to the family library. It was there, that Daniel found salvation¡­ in porn. As one of the few who could both read AND write in the village, he devoured the stuff. He reviewed the stuff. He even wrote the stuff. Daniel Blake (his penname) is legendary in certain, highly influential circles in more than one capital. His An A to Z Guide to Porn while written a long time ago and now quite out of date is still referred to as the ¡°Bible of Blush¡± by many demi-human races. It¡¯s also on the master list of ¡°Books to be Burned¡± by many religious groups. The Nun¡¯s Unholy Obsession, a book about a young blond nun named Tabitha who kidnaps her playboy boyfriend Michel (some names MAY have been changed to protect the innocent) and winds up chopping off his body parts to keep him at home and to herself, only to awaken to a new, dark fetish, is rapidly becoming a bestseller in multiple countries. As a person who would rather be left alone, he was also perfect as a sort-of night manager for the entire nipple fort. Number of screaming children annoying him: Zero. Number of so-called ¡°childhood friends¡± still bullying him: Zero. As a person with responsibility over financial matters, he had some personal power. People didn¡¯t come to him if they didn¡¯t have to, which suited him just fine. Number of adults who could bother him: Zero He jumped when his eyes were suddenly covered. ¡°Gueeeesssss Who?¡± sang a female voice. Number of adults who could bother him: Zero Two. Hanging is too good a punishment for people who interrupt writers caught by the muse. Daniel sighed deeply. ¡°Why are you up, Cynthia? It¡¯s late.¡± And what was that about ¡°he¡¯ll never know we were here¡±? Cynthia removed her hand from his eyes. ¡°We came to see the elf.¡± ¡°You saw him earlier. I believe that it was your sister Teresa who put him to bed?¡± ¡°Gnn¡­¡± Tell him I can sense things Teresa can¡¯t. ¡°Well so can I, but fine. Look, Dannyboy. We know nothing about that elf. Teresa¡¯s out of spells and asleep right now. For all we know the kid could be an evil shape-shifter. What¡¯s the harm in letting us have a closer look?¡± ¡°The fact that if he¡¯s an evil shape-shifter I¡¯ll be giving him the body of the village¡¯s only magic caster in the middle of the night when nobody else is awake?¡± ¡°Gnn¡­!¡± He does have a point. ¡°You¡¯re not helping!¡± ¡°Why would I be helping you?¡± Daniel cocked one eyebrow at her. ¡°I¡¯m talking to her, not you!¡± Enough. Let me try convincing him. ¡°¡­ Fine.¡± Cynthia closed her eyes¡­ Joan opened them. ¡°Good evening. I¡¯m Joan. If I¡¯m understanding your concerns properly, you would prefer we not talk to the elf unprepared and unmonitored?¡± ¡°Good evening, Joan. If I may add, it would also be best if we were both armed. For example, with these daggers I just happen to have with me.¡± He lifted his writing pad to reveal two sheathed knives on his lap. What? That¡¯s it? We can go? What was his freaking problem then? ¡°Probably you calling him ¡®Dannyboy¡¯, I would think.¡± Joan muttered quietly. The magical lights were unsheathed in the bedroom, destroying the darkness. The elf boy had still not moved, but his breathing had gotten slightly stronger than when he was in the church. Joan stared at his face, searching with her senses. He didn¡¯t seem evil. She didn¡¯t feel that coming from him. Well, of course not. Not with that beautiful face¡­ and those adorable ears¡­ and that fluffy-wuffy hair... JOAN! ¡°Whoa!¡± She yanked her hand away from his head. ¡°What is it? Did you sense something?¡± Daniel unsheathed his weapon. ¡°No. It¡¯s just¡­ uh, no, the boy isn¡¯t evil. Hang on, I¡¯m going to try something.¡± She gathered the Light within her, focusing it to her left hand. Gently, she touched the boy¡¯s forehead and willed the Light to enter him. To heal him. ¡°Uhhn¡­¡± Slowly, the boy¡¯s eyes opened. He looked at Daniel Bowen. He looked at her. His eyes widened as he saw the burn scars on her fully-uncovered face. Beautiful purple eyes¡­ JOAN¡­ ¡°I¡¯m okay. Right. I''m sorry child, but I have to get some answers out of you. In the Light of Truth, none may hide, all must submit to the Command: Confess your true name and identity!¡± The spell slammed into his defenseless body. He moved weakly to get up, the bedsheets falling away from his naked chest, and with a surprisingly melodic voice he said, ¡°[Um, I¡¯m sorry. I have no idea what you just said.]¡± I noticed some people use the swapped palette (white background, black font) when using this site. Should I pander to them, say by making double chapter releases (one regular, one inverted)? Shameless plug: I''m attempting to be ambitious by adding a second series! (Don''t worry this series has priority) Making a Mark in the World http://www.royalroadl.com/fiction/2997 Its Always Darkest Before The Joan In The Beginning, There Was Darkness¡­ And Touching He was touched by a guy¡­ that way. The guy screamed. Then he came back and touched him again¡­ that way. Another guy came, and despite the deep porno-actor voice only ruffled his hair. ¡°¡­And there was much rejoicing.¡± He was carried downstairs by a surprisingly fit woman¡­ or perhaps not. His new body seemed MUCH lighter now. Leaving the pressure of the church gave him slightly more energy as well. She touched him too¡­ in that way. He hoped she was cute, because he couldn¡¯t help reacting to it. ¡°¡­And there was much rejoicing.¡± He was put into a bed, still naked, and left alone. Situation Report: I am in a new, smaller, lighter body, and I¡¯m still male, thank God. ... Wait, which god? ... I guess it doesn¡¯t matter¡­not right now anyways. What DOES matter is that I have fluffy hair and apparently EXTREMELY SENSITIVE pointed ears. If that girl who groped me had touched my ears as well I think I would have stained her blouse. It¡¯s a damn good thing I didn¡¯t have any energy in the church or a certain place in my rear would have been opened a whole lot wider. Wait. Fluffy Hair? Pointy Ears? I¡¯m an elf? Am I still in the game? The last thing I remember¡­ Oh crap. That¡­ that was a heart attack, wasn¡¯t it? I¡­ died, didn¡¯t I? So why am I an elf? Did I just become my MMO character? Everything feels far too real. LTO could never manage THIS level of sensory immersion. Not to mention everyone was speaking that strange language. I¡®ve never felt an aura like THAT before either. So¡­ another world? LTO the World? A different world? Either way, this could be HUGE. Do I still have my character¡¯s stats and skills? Is the interface still working? ... Then again, why would a level one newbie be transferred instead of a level Godly with Epic Gear? ... And why do I feel someone staring at me? There WAS someone else nearby. Someone was looking at him¡­ in that way. Damn it, not AGAIN! You¡­ You just stay over there, okay? Don¡¯t you DARE come over here! Then another woman came and interrupted that person¡¯s concentration. ¡°¡­And there was much rejoicing.¡± There was some sort of quiet argument, and then suddenly the woman¡­ changed. Her voice became lower in timber, and her manner of speaking sounded more thoughtful and polite. Then the two agreed on something and approached the bed he was laying in. THIS can¡¯t be good¡­ There was a slight wooden creak as the woman sat down on a chair next to him. That¡¯s when he felt it. She had an aura. Not like in the church, her aura was more quiet¡­ warmer¡­ it was like sunlight. You could trust this person. She was a good person. That¡¯s how it felt. And when she touched him, it wasn¡¯t filled with lust. First she ruffled his hair playfully. The second time¡­ LET THERE BE LIGHT Energy filled his body, and he unconsciously moaned. He couldn¡¯t help it. Light had exploded in his head and chest, and suddenly he could BE. HE EXISTED. ¡°¡­And there was MUCH rejoicing.¡± He could finally move! He could finally open his eyes! +6 hp floated and then disappeared from in front of him, almost too quickly to see. He lay in what must have been the largest bed he had ever seen¡­ not. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. That¡¯s right, I¡¯m smaller now. Still, this must be the king-sized version. The bed clearly had a wooden frame, and from what he could tell from laying on top of it, not stuffed with springs. Perhaps¡­ wool? Two blankets covered him, a white linen one, and a colorful quilted one of green and brown on top. It was quite warm. At the foot of the bed stood a man with chocolate-brown skin, straight black hair receding from his forehead, dressed in a royal purple medieval tunic and brown leather pants. He was holding a very large, very pointy knife in one hand, not the kind for cutting bread but clearly one for stabbing people, and what looked like a wooden clipboard in the other. Hispanic? ¡­Probably not. The guy looked very guarded. The dagger was pointed directly at him. I¡¯m NAKED and clearly smaller than you. What are you expecting me to try? Don¡¯t answer that! The woman sitting next to him was¡­ GAH! Two-Face¡¯s sister! No wait¡­ She¡¯s the one who helped me. The woman was wearing a blue dress ¨C no, a blue nun¡¯s habit. She chose to wear her blonde hair freely, without tying it up or shaping it with loads of hairspray. She actually looked quite cute in a natural way¡­ well, half of her face did. The other half had that angry red and brown melted wax look common to burn victims. Her left ear was just a bumpy hole on the side of her head, barely covered by small clumps of wispy white hair. Her left eye was just a leathery milky white ball, barely being held in by what was left of her eyelids. It looked like she couldn¡¯t close that eye anymore. Her left eyebrow was missing. The burn scars covered a large chunk of her forehead, just barely missed her nose and lips, and traveled down her neck down into her dress nun¡¯s habit. From what he could see, her left hand and wrist had also been burnt badly. Her other eye was sapphire blue. She looked at him like she had just seen something wonderful on his face, before abruptly changing into a serious mood. ¡°[I¡¯m okay. Right. I¡¯m sorry child, but I have to get some answers out of you.]¡± She suddenly pointed at him. ¡°[In the Light of Truth, none may hide, all must submit to the Command: Confess your true name and identity!]¡± Something happened¡­ Nothing happened. Miss Good Aura continued to look at him. I should say something, right? His system hadn¡¯t fully rebooted, so his arms still didn¡¯t want to move much, but he managed somehow to lift his body up off the pillow to look at her directly. ¡°Um, I¡¯m sorry. I have no idea what you just said.¡± A look of total confusion came over her face. ¡°[Eh?]¡± He shifted in the bed slightly, carefully pulling the covers back up over his chest and moving his legs to hide a certain problem that had sprung up. Perhaps it was because his body was really excited to be alive, but his body was REALLY EXCITED to be alive. ¡°¡­And there was MUCH rejoicing.¡± He prepared himself to start reciting prime numbers in his head. ¡°Um, yeah. Sorry, I don¡¯t speak your language, so¡­ Wait. You just healed me, you have an aura, and you just cast a spell at me, right? Are you a paladin?¡± THAT got her attention. A smile broke out on her face. She pointed at herself. ¡°[Yes! I am a] paladin. [My name is Joan.]¡± It was sudden, it was small, it was at the bottom left of his vision, and it moved when he moved his head, but he could see writing appear: Language Comprehension (Common): + 1 Here''s where we finally start seeing the MMORPG vs Fantasy stuff. The quote is from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. NARRATOR: And so Arthur and Bedemir and Sir Robin set out on their search to find the enchanter of whom the old man had spoken in Scene 24. Beyond the forest they met Launcelot and Galahad, and there was much rejoicing. ALL: Yaaaaay! Yaaaaay! NARRATOR: In the frozen land of Nador they were forced to eat Robin''s minstrels. And there was MUCH rejoicing. ALL: Yaaaaay! I''ll be updating my other series tomorrow. Language Grinding and Loot Drops Language Comprehension (Common). That WASN¡¯T in LTO. No wait¡­ we did have language skills¡­ People in Legendary Tales Online could talk in other languages, but it was never really used much. If you wanted to speak a particular game language, you just had someone teach it to you and you were done. There was no real learning process, as that would have been annoying, and no MMO wants to be annoying. The only reason anyone learned Elvish (if they weren¡¯t elves to begin with) was to pick up quests from an elven NPC. Some players used to use other languages as an anti-server measure. Back when he first played LTO there used to be a bard he knew who, whenever he went AFK while doing some mundane grinding like leveling up his Mining skill, would spout random limericks in various languages so the server wouldn¡¯t boot him from the game for wasting time. ¡°There once was a man from Knave,¡± (English) ¡°Who kept a dead whore in a cave.¡± (Elvish) ¡°Gargulh Gulgeh Urkin,¡± (Orcish) ¡°Hashaaaah Arrrrh Grawah,¡± (Draconian) ¡°But think of the money I save!¡± (Dwarvish) Of course, sometimes players would talk in other languages just to be jerks to newbies. One annoying person used to insult him in Spanish using the Orcish Language skill. So the language everyone uses is called ¡°Common¡±? THAT, at least, I know wasn¡¯t in LTO. And what¡¯s with the ¡°+1¡±? I have to grind a LANGUAGE now? Ugh, does that mean I have to buy the next level of language skill too? Legendary Tales Online was, to put it nicely, a grindfest. Everything cost gold. Everything required grinding. Want to learn a new skill? Spend gold. Want to get good at that skill? Grind. Depending on the level of that skill it could take a day, a week, a month, several months, or a year. Want to upgrade that skill to the next level? Spend more gold. Ditto for weapons, armor, crafting, spells, and so on. Players were constantly kept in a state of not-poverty, where even if you had 900,000 gold that just meant you needed another 600,000 for whatever thing you wanted to buy or upgrade. Naturally, there were shortcuts¡­ if you wanted to spend REAL money. All MMOs are geared towards the impatient and the narcissistic. You could spend a couple of months doing nothing but grinding that one skill, OR you could spend real money and get it leveled up in that day. You could wear the same armor as everyone else, OR you could spend real money and get the full Lord of the Evergreen Set (pieces sold separately). You could ride a horse, OR spend real money and jet around on your own personal griffin. Dying costs you much needed gold and experience, OR you could spend real money on an Instant Resurrection Kit. ¡°[And? What¡¯s your name?]¡± Oops. The paladin nun person was talking and he wasn¡¯t paying attention. ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Joan.¡± She pointed at herself. ¡°[You?]¡± So her name is Joan. ¡°I am¡­¡± Healz Pleaze. Wait, that¡¯s wrong. My real name is Healz Pleaze. What? Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.Oh come on, it was printed on my Driver¡¯s License. State: Florida. Name: Pleaze, Healz. Something¡¯s going on here. My brother¡¯s name is Chris. Okay, good. Chris Pleaze. Dammit! My parents were John Adam Pleaze and Mary Katherine Pleaze. NO THEY WEREN¡¯T! ¡°¡¯I am?¡¯ [Your name is] ¡®I am¡¯?¡± ¡°No¡­ It¡¯s¡­¡± ¡°[Hmm?]¡± Language Comprehension (Common): + 1 It seemed that ¡°[Hmm]¡± meant ¡°Hmm¡±. He had learned another word. That seemed¡­ irritating, for some reason. How can ¡°hmm¡± be considered a foreign word anyways? She was still waiting for his answer. Shifting uncomfortably, he muttered: ¡°...Healz Pleaze.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°Heeyalspless?¡± It would have looked cuter if she had tilted it towards the scarred side instead. ¡°Healz Pleaze.¡± ¡°Helzpliess?¡± This is mortifying¡­ ¡°Healz. Pleaze.¡± Stop making me say it! ¡°Healz¡­ Pleaze?¡± Finally! ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°[Definitely an elf, with a name like that.]¡± She pointed at herself again. ¡°Joan. Joan Gedder.¡± She pointed at the brown-skinned man standing by the foot of the bed. ¡°Daniel Bowen.¡± Startled, the man waved his weapon in a sort-of-friendly greeting. ¡°[Oh. Um, nice to meet you.]¡± Well, why not. Playing along, he pointed at the man. ¡°Daniel Bowen.¡± ¡°[Yes.]¡± Language Comprehension (Common): + 1 He had learned ¡°yes¡±. Only a million more to go¡­ He pointed at Joan. ¡°Joan Gedder.¡± ¡°[Well done.]¡± As his finger moved away from her it aimed towards the oak dresser next to his bed. It flashed. The hell? He pointed at the dresser again. It lit up, outlined in light. He moved his finger away. It turned off. He pointed at it again. It lit up again. Slowly, he leaned over, letting the blankets fall from his naked chest again. ¡°[What? What is it?]¡± Joan watched him as he went to touch it. As soon as he did-- All of the drawers opened, simultaneously, as if pulled by an angry person. ¡°[Ahh!]¡± Joan was forced to dodge as two things catapulted out. There was a *clunk* as a dagger, still in its sheath, hit the carpet. A gold coin made a small *tink* as it landed. ¡°Um¡­ Heh heh, that wasn¡¯t supposed to happen.¡± It sounded lame to him as well. When Cuteness Attacks! Dumb. Dumb. Dumb dumb dumb. DUMB! Way to go, you moron. They already knew you weren¡¯t human, but now they know you aren¡¯t really an elf either. Wait. Do elves even exist here? That Joan girl reacted when I said ¡°paladin¡±, so it seems there are SOME sort of RPG rules in effect... He watched as Joan leaned over to pick up the fallen dagger and the shiny coin. She held out the coin to Daniel. *Sigh* If only things could have worked out. After glancing at a suddenly depressed elf, Daniel got up to take it from her. Joan definitely seemed to like me. I¡¯m stuck in a new world and she might have been my ally. You know, ¡°beginner village tutorial¡± and all that. Joan unsheathed the new dagger. A variety of expressions flowed across her ruined face: Astonishment, puzzlement, confusion, and realization. And then I had to chuck a freakin¡¯ DAGGER at her head. ¡°[This dagger,]¡± Joan said quietly, ¡°[isn¡¯t possible.]¡± Oh great. She¡¯s muttering now. Daniel Bowen pulled out a touchstone from his pocket. Rubbing the gold coin against it, he also had a change of expression: Amazement, then something similar to greed. That was when he realized Joan had said something. ¡°Hmm?¡± Here we go. It¡¯s started. ¡°He¡¯s not one of us¡± is going to become ¡°We should get rid of him¡±. If only¡­! It was then he noticed that a white kitten had appeared from under the bed, curious about the noise and the things landing on the floor. ¡°[This dagger is impossible. Look at this metal.]¡± She held the blade up to the light. ¡°[It looks like iron, but it isn¡¯t. Iron isn¡¯t this shiny. Also, this blade. It¡¯s completely symmetrical. I doubt even dwarves could make a blade this even on both sides. It¡¯s razor-sharp, but there are no sharpening marks anywhere. Everything about this dagger is wrong. It¡¯s brand new.]¡± D¡¯awwwww! Who¡¯s a cute little kitten then? Come here¡­ Good kitty¡­ up we go¡­ Aww, you¡¯re so cute¡­! ¡°[That makes sense.]¡± Coochy coochy coo! Thanks for being my distraction, so I can check something. ¡°Character.¡± ¡°[What?]¡± Joan exclaimed. ¡°[In what way?]¡± A popup window appeared in front of his eyes.
HEALZ PLEAZE Level 1 Medic (Cleric / Alchemist) Elf (High Elf) Male Strength: 25 Dexterity: 60 Constitution: 30 Endurance: 50 Mind: 75 Spirit: 70 Charm: 75 Luck: 60 Health: 6 / 60 Mana: 77 / 150 Experience: 0 (500) Advantages: Adorable: You are just too cute! +10 to First Encounters with humanoids. Beautiful: You turn heads. +10 to First Encounters with humanoids. Virgin: You are pure and unspoiled. +10 to First Encounters with unicorns, good dragons, and followers of Good Religions. Disadvantages: Adorable: You are just too cute! -20 to Intimidate. Beautiful: You turn heads. -20 to Stealth. Virgin: You are pure and unspoiled. +30 to First Encounters with vampires, evil dragons, and followers of Evil Cults.
Daniel held up the recently-scratched coin. ¡°[As near as I can tell, this is pure gold. Absolutely pure. Judging from this touchstone, I¡¯d say it¡¯s worth, roughly, one gold and two silver in our currency. More, if we sell it to an alchemist. If that dagger is superior to a normal bronze dagger in a similar way, then an enchanter might buy it at nearly the same price as a mithril one.]¡± So they can¡¯t see the whopping great window floating there, huh? That¡¯s good. Wait, ¡°Virgin¡±? Like HELL I am! ¡°[So Helze ¨C I can¡¯t say his name ¨C so this elf boy touched a drawer¨C]¡± ¡°[An EMPTY drawer. I checked this room earlier.]¡± ¡°[¨C And made a brand new dagger and gold coin worth far more than a normal dagger and gold coin spring out by magic, is it?]¡± No wait. THIS body is a virgin. Hmm? Oh, sorry, little kitty! I ignored you. Rah! Raaarrrrwwrr. Gotcha! ¡°Close.¡± The popup menu disappeared. ¡°[So as Lord Bowen thought, he is part of an Event.]¡± ¡°[He may BE the Event.]¡± So. I have stats. And mana. That implies I have skills ¨C Rawr-rawr-rawr-rawr! Wheeeeeere did my hand goooooo? RIGHT HERE! Coochy-coo! ¨C and possibly spells. I might be able to escape after all. ¡°[Either way, if he can do that again¡­]¡± Joan mused. ¡°[He¡¯d be extremely valuable for the village¡¯s finances. We can¡¯t afford to let him go. ]¡± Daniel replied firmly. So let¡¯s see who we¡¯re dealing with¡­ POUNCE! Haha! Gotcha! You¡¯re mine now! Joan and Daniel turned. An adorable elf boy was play-fighting with an adorable white kitten. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.Time passed¡­ Joan winced, as if someone suddenly shouted right next to her ear. ¡°[Um. Right. Helssepoleese--]¡± ¡°Medic.¡± ¡°[What?]¡± Language Comprehension (Common): + 1 He had learned ¡°what¡±. He pointed at her, while making ¡°air quotes¡± with his other hand. ¡°Select. ¡®Joan¡¯, ¡®Joaniekins¡¯, ¡®The Joanmeister,¡¯ ¡®Joanario¡¯. ¡± Joan Gedder Level 6 Paladin Her name and title appeared over her head. There was a red bar, but no blue bar for mana. So Select worked¡­ When playing an MMO, it is VITALLY important that the spells you cast only hit who you want to hit. By targeting someone with Select you can ensure only that ONE person gets the spell, and that you didn¡¯t accidentally blast the party member who just ran in front of you instead. He pointed at himself, again making ¡°air quotes¡±. ¡°¡¯Medic¡¯, okay?¡± He pointed at Joan again, mixing another command into his speech. ¡°Examine you try it. ¡®Medic¡¯.¡±
Joan Gedder Level 6 Paladin Human Female Strength: 15 Dexterity: 10 (12) Constitution: 12 Intelligence: 12 Wisdom: 14 Charisma: 14 (18) Hit Points: 35 / 35 Experience Points: 37,557 (75,000) Armor: None Weapons: Bronze Dagger, Dagger Items: Holy Symbol Money: G: 0 S: 0 B: 0 Level 1 Cleric Spells: Command (used) Scarred Body: -4 to Charisma, -2 to Dexterity
What the hell? Those aren¡¯t LTO stats. They¡¯re from a completely different game! ¡°¡¯Medic.¡¯¡± ¡°Good! Isn¡¯t that easier to say?¡± He happily smiled at her, immensely relieved. He CAN be called something other than (ugh) ¡®Healz Pleaze¡¯. SUCK IT, UNIVERSE! For some reason she started blushing, but he couldn¡¯t afford to give up this advantage. ¡°Close now you. Select. ¡®Medic¡¯. Examine?¡± The popup window closed, and then re-opened with new information.
Daniel Bowen Level 4 Aristocrat Human Male Strength: 10 Dexterity: 15 Constitution: 12 Intelligence: 17 Wisdom: 15 Charisma: 14 Hit Points: 18 / 18 Experience Points: 9,050 (18,000) Armor: None Weapons: Bronze Dagger Items: Writing Board, Pocket Quill, Ink Bottle, Drying Dust, Touchstone, Scroll of Sleep Money: G: 1 S: 0 B: 0
¡°[Oh, I can say your name perfectly well, Healz Pleaze.]¡± Damn you. He picked up the kitten and held it to his naked chest. I didn¡¯t want to try this, but you forced my hand! With his best puppy dog eyes, he asked in a quiet and sad voice, ¡±You can¡¯t?¡± ¡°Mew?¡± asked the kitten. Daniel¡¯s face immediately exploded into a nicely bright red color from the cuteness overload. ¡°[KUH! I just have to say it, right? That¡¯s all, right? ¡®Medic¡¯.]¡± ¡°Good! Well done! Close.¡± He smiled, and all was right with the world again. One more time: SUCK IT, UNIVERSE! ¡°[Damn it, this boy could make married men switch sides¡­]¡± Daniel Bowen pulled out a scroll from underneath the newest chapter of his novel. ¡°[Using the Will of Somnus I cloud your mind, steal your energy and close your eyes. Sleep!]¡± And the elf went down, his head hitting the pillow once more. ¡°[And THAT should keep you quiet until I can tell Lord Bowen in the morning everything that¡¯s happened.]¡± He got up and headed for the door. Cynthia blinked. ¡°[Joan? Joooaaaannn?]¡± Picking up the tiny white kitten, she got up to go as well. ¡°[Hmph. It looks like she went to bed already. Good night, kid.]¡± She turned off the lights on her way out and closed the door. THIS FREAKING CHAPTER. I swear, the characters all wanted a smoke break or something because it took far longer than I wanted to write it, and for some reason the line ¡°¡± kept getting replaced by the command to start italics when I double-checked my formatting.[/i] Side Chapter: The Vengeance of Daniel Blake He walked back to his room in a daze, completely forgetting that he was supposed to be guarding an elf. He played me. Daniel Bowen, aka famous porn author Daniel Blake, was very angry. He freaking PLAYED me! He didn''t so much as sit as collapse into his chair, fuming. He had been distracted by his greed. An elf who can make gold coins and weapons, superior to actual gold coins and weapons, appear out of empty containers? The possibilities! What else can that boy¡­? ¡°[¡®Medic¡¯.]¡± ¡°What?¡± Joan had looked confused. Perfectly natural, if you don¡¯t speak the same language. Healz Pleaze the elf pointed at her, making a weird curling motion with the first two fingers of his other hand. ¡°[Select. ¡®Joan¡¯, ¡®Joaniekins¡¯, ¡®The Joanmeister,¡¯ ¡®Joanario¡¯.]¡± He pointed at himself, again making that strange hand gesture. ¡°[¡¯Medic¡¯, okay?]¡± Ah, so a nickname, huh? Why that, though? What¡¯s a ¡®medic¡¯? The boy pointed at Joan once more. ¡°[Examine you try it. ¡®Medic¡¯.]¡± ¡°¡¯Medic.¡¯¡± Joan reluctantly said. ¡°[Good! Isn¡¯t that easier to say close?]¡± For some reason Healz Pleaze looked really happy with himself. Oh dear, I think Joan is starting to fall for him. Look at that blush. ¡°[Now you. Select. ¡®Medic¡¯. Examine?]¡± Me? A normal man would have noted the blushing girl and given that some more thought. For some reason, that irritated him, as a man, and as a writer. ¡°I can say your name perfectly well, Healz Pleaze.¡± Hah! THAT ticked him off. I wonder how much he hates his name. Perhaps it means something embarrassing like ¡°Butterfly dancing on the morning dew¡±¡­ Then the elf picked up the kitten he had been playing with and held it to his naked chest. With moist eyes, and in a quiet and sad voice, the boy asked, ¡°You can¡¯t?¡± ¡°Mew?¡± echoed the kitten. TOO. DAMN. CUTE. *Badump!* In one heartbeat he could feel his face turn completely red. ¡°KUH! I just have to say it, right? That¡¯s all, right? ¡®Medic¡¯.¡± He could hear the roaring in his ears as they too burned with embarrassment. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Once more, the elf smiled a satisfied, happy smile. That was on purpose. He did that cute play on purpose! ¡°Damn it, this boy could make married men switch sides¡­¡± Angry at himself, angry at this manipulative elf, he pulled out a scroll from underneath his most recent work. ¡°Using the Will of Somnus I cloud your mind, steal your energy and close your eyes. Sleep!¡± The scroll disappeared into blue flames ¨C And the elf went down, his head hitting the pillow once more. ¡°And THAT should keep you quiet until I can tell Lord Bowen in the morning everything that¡¯s happened.¡± He staggered out the door. When he calmed down enough, he looked at the last thing he wrote. The despoiling of a pure elf princess: ¡°No!¡± The princess panted, her tongue hanging out, ¡°It¡¯s so shameful, and yet I¡¯m so aroused!¡± ¡°Hahaha!¡± He laughed scornfully, ¡°You can deny it all you want, but your body is honest!¡± What utter crap. He threw all the pages he had written, a good two-and-a-half hours¡¯ worth of work, into the trash. Innocent? Pure? That elf? That BASTARD? He began writing again, from page one. The words of his anger, the desires of his revenge, made the quill flow quickly across the paper: Volume 1 ¨C The Cat-Eared Princess After a good three hours of solid work, he realized four things of major importance: 1) Nobody was guarding the elf; 2) Joan still had both his bronze dagger, and the newly-created dagger; 3) It was morning, and that means Teresa will be waking soon; 4) And so will Lord Bowen. He propelled himself out of the room, uncertain which door he should head to first. Many years later, The Humiliations of a Wandering Elf Princess series would become known as THE quintessential work of pornography, the one by which all other works would be judged. It sold incredibly well across the world, and was translated into 52 different human, demi-human, and even some non-human languages. Checking Out and... Checking Out It is a well-known, but unremarked, fact that MMO characters do not share the same weaknesses as their human players. When he used Examine on Daniel Bowen, he figured that the Scroll of Sleep the man carried would most likely be used in the near future, and that it would most likely be used on him. So when he felt the spell go off, it was easy to pretend that it worked. It is a well-known, but unremarked, fact that MMO characters do not sleep. He lay there, in the bed, in the darkness, thinking. Well now, I¡¯m finally alone. I should use this time to figure out some things. ¡°Options.¡± Nothing happened. Of course not. That would only be helpful¡­ ¡°Skills.¡±
SKILLS CLERIC: Holy: 0 Healing: 0 ALCHEMY: Knowledge (Reagents): 0 Chemistry: 0 Medicine: 0 GENERAL: Intimidate: -20 Language Comprehension (Common): 4 Stealth: -20
Okay, so I DO have abilities I can use. ¡°Close, Cleric.¡±
CLERIC
Level 1 Spells:
Holy LightTargets: Self, Other. Beams restorative energy, healing a portion of one ally''s injuries. This skill defaults to healing the caster if no target is selected, and can be used on undead enemies to cause damage.
Level: 1Heals 30 pointsCost: 5 ManaCooldown: 1 Second
¡°Good. Close, Holy Light.¡± -5 mana His body glowed briefly, covered in effervescent light. +30 hp MUCH better. Not one hundred percent yet, but he could fix that. ¡°Holy Light.¡± -5 mana +24 hp I am SO glad I picked the Cleric class right now¡­ ¡°Alchemy.¡± A popup menu opened up, showing all the alchemical tools available for him to use: alembic for distilling, a cold trap for sublimation, a furnace for heating and melting, a mortar and pestle for grinding, a crucible for mixing, and a filter for¡­ er, filtration. ¡°Close, Recipes.¡±
ALCHEMY RECIPES
Oh come on! Not even the smallest basic mana potion or heal potion? ¡°Close, Inventory.¡± A new popup window opened up. An ornate wooden frame with a grid of empty boxes inside it appeared before his eyes. There was some small text on the bottom of the frame, saying ¡°Gold: 0¡± and ¡°0/250 lbs¡±. EXCELLENT. I have my own portable dimension to store things in. Shame about the maximum weight limit being only 250 pounds though. He sat up in bed, pulling the pillow onto his lap. He pointed a finger at it. Nothing happened. He touched the pillow. Nothing happened. ¡°What? Oh for crying out loud¡­ Close.¡± The inventory screen went away. He pointed at the pillow again. When his finger was about an inch away, the pillow disappeared. Pillow, Small ¡°Inventory.¡± There was a picture of a pillow in the top left grid box. Typical. If it¡¯s open then you¡¯re expected to ¡®drag and drop¡¯ instead. Oddly, the weight stayed at 0/250 lbs. So does the pillow not weigh anything ¡°officially¡± or did it round down? He pointed at the picture, and it became the pillow itself, floating in front of him. He dropped his hand. The pillow backed away, becoming a picture once more. He pointed at the picture again, and when the pillow appeared he took it and put it back on the bed. I can see I¡¯ll have problems later if I ever find a place to settle down¡­ If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Hey Medic, can you get me a pen from that drawer?¡± ¡°Huh? Oh sure¡ª¡± *BANG!* *Thunk!* ¡°Um¡­ Heh heh. would you like a dagger instead? It¡¯s fresh!¡± ¡°I say my good man, how much is this¡ª¡± *Poof!* ¡°Hey! You just stole that! THIEF! THIEF!¡± On the other hand, if I turn to a life of crime you can¡¯t beat an inventory window you can just throw gold and jewels into. ¡°Go ahead. Search my body for the stolen loot. You won¡¯t find it!¡± ¡°Fine by me!¡± ¡°Hey! Where are you putting your hands?!¡± *Sigh* Great. I¡¯m even getting sexually harassed in my imagination now. ¡°Close, Map.¡± Another popup window appeared, this time showing a circular outline of the level he was in. Only his room was shown in detail, and a small white arrow listed his position. He was alone. EXCELLENT! My chances to escape just tripled, now that I know I can never get lost! ¡­ Huh. Am I in a tower? ¡°Map.¡± The large map turned into a floating mini-map on the upper right of his vision. He got out of the bed. Although it was night and the lights were out, he could see perfectly well. It is a well-known, but unremarked, fact that there¡¯s no such thing as complete darkness in an MMO game. Being an elf also helped though. The lamp on the other side of the bed was strange. Instead of turning a knob or yanking on a small chain, you simply twisted the lampshade itself. There was no ¡°on¡± or ¡°off¡±, the lampshade was connected to a shutter that exposed the core (a brightly glowing spherical rock) from which light came out. There was no plug for the lamp either. The elf reflected in the mirror was darker and browner, but that was because the mirror was made of polished bronze. Okay, so I¡¯m definitely my elf character and not some other elf. Although the drawer underneath the lamp also flashed when he pointed at it, he decided to leave it alone. Let¡¯s not make a racket before I¡¯ve even left the room. He put the lamp into his inventory. The room became dark once more. I still don¡¯t know why anyone would¡­ resurrect? Reincarnate? The closet also flashed at him when he pointed at it. Whatever the word is, why would ANYONE want a level 1 Cleric / Alchemist? I mean, I can understand why you wouldn¡¯t go for a muscle-brained warrior, but how about a level 100 Druid / Cleric or a Pyromancer / Necromancer? The ceiling lights were like the lamp. However the shutters were connected by a pulley system instead, ending next to the door in a couple of velvet ropes with tassels. Maybe it was cheaper that way? It¡¯s not like I was carrying a whole lot of magic items¡­ He felt mildly disappointed that pulling one would most likely only turn on the lights and not make a loud *BONG* sound instead. For that matter, why did I appear in a CHURCH? Shouldn¡¯t I have appeared in front of some royal person saying, ¡°Oh great hero! Please save us from the dreadful Demon King!¡± or something like that? The door to his room was surprisingly unlocked. Was it because I had died? A number of games do have churches as respawn points. Outside was a circular hallway with a number of doors and two sets of stairs, one going up and the other going down. That doesn¡¯t explain why I couldn¡¯t move and had zero hit points. There were more of those lamp-things hanging over head, but these looked like they were supposed to stay on constantly. Well no, NORMALLY people with no health don¡¯t move. As he reached midway on the stairs down, his minimap suddenly lit up with tons of yellow triangles, the symbol for passive monsters that normally don¡¯t attack. So these are the cats and dogs who were with me in the church, huh? The cats were a mix of the small and VERY fluffy type with sad eyes and the ¡®if they were any larger I¡¯d be delicious¡¯ spotted type with predator eyes. The dogs were a mix of the husky type that always looked at you as if you might be something worth chasing and the large-mouthed mastiff type that look like they could bite off a body part in one go. Some looked up at him, then went right back to sleep. If he had known anything about the normal behavior of cats and dogs, then this silent greeting and acceptance would have bothered him a great deal more than it did. Hey, over there. Isn¡¯t that¡­? Hanging over the still-cooling ovens, on a jury-rigged line, was a small white dress, a large white loincloth, three towels, and two aprons. Apparently they were left there to dry. It is a well-known, but unremarked, fact that MMO characters can wear any item of clothing, no matter what their body size is, no matter what size the clothes are. So it was that a beautiful elf wearing a white loincloth underneath a white girl''s dress left the central tower of the nipple fort in the dead of night. The outside air was almost freezing cold, but it wasn''t uncomfortable for him. After all, it is a well-known, but unremarked, fact that MMO characters are not affected at all by the weather, unless it is magically made. Checking Out 2 - When Drunken Molesters Attack! It is often said that it is far easier to break out of a fortress than to break in. It just depends on how paranoid the fortress builders are. Are. You. Kidding. Me? In the middle of a cold autumn night, a certain elf HAD thought he had escaped. He had successfully fooled his watchers into thinking he had gone to sleep. He had successfully made it out of his surprisingly unlocked room. He had successfully secured clothes. Maybe. Granted, they were a young girl¡¯s clothes and they were a bright white in color, it was still better than nothing, right? Maybe. Then again, he clearly was not a human, had easy-to-spot silvery-blue hair, and his stealth capability was already in the negatives. Wearing a white dress straight out of a laundry bleach commercial couldn¡¯t make things any worse, right? Maybe. The massive front door of the tower, built to withstand direct attacks by catapult (or the occasional rock-throwing giant), had also been surprisingly unlocked. He had successfully grunted the damn thick thing open. One might forgive him for thinking he was all clear. Unfortunately, the people of Bowen Village were FAR more paranoid than he expected. He was completely surrounded by walls again. While the tower was a four-story building, the inner ring was three stories. The bottom floor was mostly wall, with the occasional door for the residents, while the upper two floors had fenced balconies for fresh air -- and for ease of anti-air archery should the tower be attacked. Also in front of him were two huge doors, just like the ones he had just passed through. ¡°Map.¡± He whispered. The minimap turned back into the large scroll-looking version. He wasn¡¯t alone. White NPC triangles moved sluggishly nearby. Due to the miracle known as ¡°BLOODY COLD WEATHER¡±, they hadn¡¯t noticed him yet, as two were pointed at each other to his right (he could hear quiet conversations), one on the opposite side of the tower moved back and forth (probably trying to stay warm), and the last one¡­ The last one was just to the left of him, less than fourteen feet away. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mike Evans was NOT having a good night. He hiccuped a bit. It''s all that damn elf¡¯s fault. He liked LADIES, dammit. He shouldn¡¯t be having thoughts about anyone other than Sister Teresa¡­ and Robin¡­ and May¡­ and Janet¡­ and Nancy¡­ ¡­ and either way, he wasn¡¯t one of THOSE, alright? When Lord Bowen chewed him out for leaving his post and not guarding a possible intruder properly, he wasn¡¯t aroused AT ALL, alright? It''s all that damn elf¡¯s fault. He had to do tonight¡¯s shift walking the perimeter on this godforsaken night, in this godforsaken weather, freezing his ears off¡­ Ears¡­ The elf had those ears¡­ That song was right. Those ears were the elf¡¯s weakpoint. And when he had touched those ears¡­ NO! Don¡¯t think about it. Do your job. Stand out here and guard. Look at that wall and make sure it doesn¡¯t try anything. Lean against this door so it doesn¡¯t get stolen. Stand out here and freeze. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. He took another gulp from his bottle. It''s all that damn elf¡¯s fault. He yawned, and then hiccuped again. The cold always made him feel sleepy, but tonight he was too wound up to sleep. Thank goodness he found that bottle of white liqueur Daniel Bowen hid behind his chair in the hallway. Somebody was looking out for him, because this was EXACTLY what he needed. He yawned once more. He drank once more. The crouching position he took swiftly turned into a sitting position. The wind didn¡¯t blow around this section of wall. Perhaps he was¡­ having¡­ a good night¡­ after all¡­ -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Perhaps he WAS having a good night, after all. The guard next to the main doors looked asleep. He just sat there, next to a small alcove between the main arch for the doors and the rest of the wall. He was cradling a bottle of¡­ milk? ¡­in his arms. Now¡¯s my chance! As quietly as he could, the barefoot elf crept towards the main doors. They were locked. Of course they are, dammit! ... ¡­ He looked at the guard, still asleep. Perhaps¡­ he has a key? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mike Evans awoke to cold, but not unwelcome, fingers in his pants. He remembered this feeling¡­ Kathy used to greet him this way. She said she liked saying ¡°Hi¡± to his better half. How nostalgic¡­ The hands¡­ were wrong though. They were gentler than Kathy¡¯s. Smaller. Who¡­? He opened his eyes to see a beautiful elf fumbling in his pockets. You? I had the worst day because of¡­ The elf was wearing a white one-piece dress. Oh. Oh. So ¡°he¡± was a ¡°she¡± after all¡­ The elf was a girl. There was nothing wrong with him. This sudden turn of events made him VERY happy¡­ in more than one way. What a light dress though. Aren¡¯t you cold? She leaned over, and the baggy top part of her dress showed him a small paradise: Two erect nipples. The breasts were much, much smaller than he would have liked, but when a girl offers it is QUITE ungentlemanly to refuse, after all. His right hand grabbed hers, and led it to the proper spot to rub. His left hand plunged down her dress, and played with the closest nipple. ¡°[EEP!]¡± The elf leaped away as though hit by a lightning bolt. A small bit of metal flew into the air and landed between the two. A key. He chuckled the chuckle of a dirty old man as he unsteadily got up again. "Now, now. YOU came to ME, after all..." My apologies to Alkanyseus, but the village layout will have to wait until next chapter, and how magic works -- I do have it worked out and am looking forward to describing it to you -- will have to wait until my character successfully escapes the village... with or without his virginity... "Where am I?" "In the Village." "What do you want?" "Information." "WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON?" "That would be telling. We want information... Information... INFORMATION..." -- The Prisoner Checking Out 3 - Feet Dont Fail Me Now! In what would be called late September in another world, there is the holy week that is known as Saune (pronounced like ¡°sound¡± without the ¡°d¡± ending). It celebrates the end of harvesting, the remembrance of fallen friends and family, and the coming of winter. Fruitcakes are made, there are parties and games and gambling and feasting, and presents are exchanged on the last day of the week (Mickelmas Day). For a single man, it¡¯s a chance to hook up with that special someone at the Mickelmas Eve¡¯s Dance. For a married man, it¡¯s a chance to laugh at all the brats trying to hook up with that same special someone at the Mickelmas Eve¡¯s Dance. It¡¯s also a damn good excuse to drink lots of alcohol. It was not yet the week of Saune, but even so the time-honored tradition of ¡°celebrating early¡± is still strong in certain places and with certain people. Mike Evans staggered slowly towards him, confident and leering. That voice¡­ ¡°[What the hell?]¡± ¡°[Got it.]¡± That voice¡­ ¡°[Okay. Okay! OKAY! DOWN! You¡¯ll get fed¡­ Damn, I don¡¯t have any plates. Well, you guys are just going to have to share for today.]¡± ¡°[Okay cats, these are for you. NO. I said these are for the CATS. Go over there. Go on!]¡± ¡°[WH-WHAT AM I DOING???]¡± THAT VOICE¡­! "[Now, now. YOU came to ME, after all...]" THAT VOICE! OH MY GOD IT¡¯S HIM! On an instinctual level, he KNEW this was the man who had almost raped him when he was paralyzed and alone in the church. For the first time in both of his lives, a certain elf felt his sphincter suddenly clench tightly all on its own. His mind stopped working as adrenaline and fear moved his feet in the opposite direction. Somewhere. Anywhere. Away from HIM. A sudden cold wind whipped at his eyes as he ran for his life¡­ and virginity¡­ -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Herschel and Tomas Evans walked around in the near-freezing weather, turning away when a cold wind blew by, and completely ignored the front gate. This was intentional. Mike Evans had been put on late-night guard duty. With them. Mike Evans is a handsome man. Because of Mike Evans, many a young boy in love had to settle for second best (or AS second best) at every Mickelmas Eve Dance. Herschel knew all about that... from personal experience. Because of Mike Evans, there hasn¡¯t been a virginal bride for the last fifteen weddings at the village. Because of Mike Evans, many a husband and father had to face the very real fear that their wives and daughters may NOT, in fact, be ¡°visiting friends¡± as they said. Tomas could explain that feeling in quite explicit details. How they HATED Mike Evans. They hated him with a passion. Some day, they believed, some jealous man will stick a knife in him. Unfortunately, just as Mike Evans loved the ladies, the ladies also loved him, and didn¡¯t tolerate anyone picking on him. Sister Teresa liked him as well, and NOBODY wants to tick off a cleric of Ilya, especially if she¡¯s the only cleric in the village and a close personal friend of Lord Bowen himself. So they left Mike Evans alone. If they had to spend much time with the man who always laughed off accusations with, ¡°Hey, THEY came to ME!¡± the jealous man with a knife might suddenly be one of them. Also, leaving the bastard alone increased the chance that someone ELSE would come and do the deed for them. Since they could honestly say ¡°we didn¡¯t see anything at the time", it would practically be the perfect crime. Win-win. Eventually Mike Evans will put the moves on the wrong woman, and pay the price. They hoped they would be nearby to (not) witness it. So when they noticed ¨C how could they not ¨C a stunningly beautiful elf, wearing a white one-piece dress¡­ Running towards them with tears in her eyes¡­ (which was actually from the cold wind just now) Looking pale and terrified¡­ Followed by a lumbering, staggering, red-faced, drunk, and obviously aroused Mike Evans¡­ Who was holding a bottle of what was obviously alcohol in one hand and fumbling with his pants with the other¡­ Well. One plus one was looking an AWFUL LOT like two now, wasn¡¯t it? Years of repressed hatred, what could only be a elven princess straight out of a epic saga, an easy excuse to become the so-called dashing knights in shining armor (theirs was made of leather though), and a drunk (and therefore off his game) Mike Evans made their simultaneous decision a no-brainer. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Mike foolishly tried to shove them aside. His girl, his PREY was escaping. He had SO MUCH to teach her. She didn¡¯t know that she would be screaming his name later. Not yet. It was with no small amount of surprise that he noticed that:
  1. The two men looked rather upset;
  2. He suddenly had a great deal of trouble staying upright and that his lungs weren¡¯t pulling in enough air;
  3. It might have something to do with the two loud *thumps* he heard;
  4. The ground was coming to meet him rather fast, wasn¡¯t it?
  5. For that matter, his eyes didn¡¯t seem to want to focus on it much¡­
  6. *THUD*
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He ran. It was all he could do. He was trapped. Or was he? A tall ladder was resting against the wall. At the top, what looked like clay(?) tiles lay in a pile next to a bucket. Someone had been doing roofing here, and had left the work to be finished the next day. A ladder meant up. Up meant over. Over meant ESCAPE. With renewed energy he ran towards it. He couldn¡¯t hear any pursuers, but that didn¡¯t mean there weren¡¯t any. ¡°[What the--]¡± See? He had already been spotted. Again. It sounded female this time. Almost there! With a relieved sob he reached for the ladder¡­ It disappeared. Ladder, Tall He slammed, face-first, into the wall. -2 hp helpfully flashed in front of his eyes. There was a faint ¡°I want to have a nosebleed¡± feeling. Dammit! I don¡¯t have time for this! ¡°Inventory!¡± He yanked the newly-acquired ladder out again and set it against the wall. ¡°[Hey! You there! Stop!]¡± I can pretty much tell what you¡¯re saying, but sorry, I¡¯m getting the HELL out of here! He clambered up to the roof, pausing only to say, ¡°Close¡± to the inventory screen before blinking the ladder out of existence again. Ladder, Tall Behind him, Miss Female Guard Voice started blowing a tin whistle loudly. Oddly, the sound reminded him of Elizabethan England policemen. He used to love watching that old Sherlock Holmes series¡­ Oh, for the love of -- There was a THIRD wall, shorter than this one, but still blocking his escape. Several more guards looked up and noticed him. How could they not? A couple of them also pulled out tin whistles, preparing to blow. More alarms. ¡°INVENTORY!¡± He screamed. He had no time, he was clearly out-numbered, he only had one chance¡­ He ran across the rooftop as fast as he could go. +1 Stamina flashed at him briefly. He yanked out the ladder, not even trying to hold it aloft. It slammed into the ground. He jumped up as much as he could. +1 Athletics flashed at him briefly. He half-pole vaulted, half-rode the ladder to the next rooftop. ¡°CLOSE!¡± He yelled and grabbed. Ladder, Tall Before him lay the entirety of Bowen Village. A white cobble stone road lay before him. To the left was what looked like a playground, only made for both children and adults. There were swings, a slide, some sort of wooden¡­ fort¡­ thing, picnic tables, what appeared to be public toilets¡­ And also an archery range, training dummies for sword practice, several small arena-like circles, and a jogging track. To the right was clearly an inn. Lights were on in a few windows, and more than one person stared back at him from inside their rooms. Next to it was a general store¡­ maybe? Across the street from it was what looked like a smithy. There were a number of buildings he had no idea about down the road. They didn¡¯t seem like residences. All around, there were fields. There were a LOT of fields. Most were clearly for farming. Not being a farmer himself he had no idea what the crop was, but it looked to be mostly harvested by now. There were several large hay bales here and there. At least four orchards. They too looked mostly picked clean. And YET ANOTHER FREAKING WALL surrounded the entire village. This one was more like a traditional castle wall¡­ if castle walls had small guard towers every twenty feet or so. JUST HOW PARANOID ARE YOU PEOPLE??? Behind him, a number of whistles blared out. In front of him, a number of whistles started answering them. Checking Out 4 - Its a Bird! Its a Plane! In the autumn night, a cold wind blew at the two as they walked on the defensive wall that surrounded Bowen Village as part of their patrol. ¡°NO.¡± warned Theo Evans, and Pepper the dog reluctantly moved away from ¡°the interesting spot¡±. It was going to take a while. Dogs are supposed to use the designated areas to relieve themselves, but the urge to mark territory is quite strong, especially when an intruder is involved. A giant hawk, grown large due to magic and practically a monster in its own right, had landed and unloaded its bowels on the wall there before continuing on with its migration. The guards joked that the bird had literally ¡°poo-pooed¡± their work safeguarding the village. Luckily Theo and Pepper weren¡¯t working that shift or they¡¯d be neck-deep in still more scatology jokes, and really, who needs that? The wind whipped up stronger. Already below he could see the white tarp that covered one of the defensive catapults coming off and blowing down the road towards the fish pond. Again. Somebody would get chewed out for sure for failing to check the knots. At least he wouldn¡¯t be the one to have to drag the damn thing out. Keeping catapults inside the village instead of on top of the walls like the trebuchets added to the risks, such as the siege weapons accidentally knocking down their own walls and of course the inability for the firing team to directly see where they are firing, but it also meant that the enemy couldn¡¯t see how many they had or where they were, and the catapult teams could safely fire until they ran out of ammo. The guard towers and the catapult operators had worked out a system in that the towers would each provide spotter information and between them and the pennants over each tower showing wind direction and strength, the firing team could work out on the fly how much to adjust their aim. How to use an abacus is the first thing they teach new recruits to the catapult teams. Pepper seemed absolutely delighted with the weather. The wind and the height combined to bring her all sorts of new smells, and the crenelated walls broke up the gusts before they came to her so she wasn¡¯t even all that cold. Theo, who was much taller, was freezing his butt off. It was his fault for underestimating how quickly the temperature would drop once autumn had arrived. Guard Tower # 2 was right next to the main gates to the village, and one of the better job locations. Each guard and their dog could stay at a tower for up to an hour, but then they had to walk to the next in line. Once there, they relieved the guard and guard dog currently stationed there, who then himself or herself had to walk to the next one, and so on. Guard Towers #1 and #2 were right by the front gates, so the walk was a very short one. It made for a relaxing shift. Billy Evans held out a cup of steaming hot coffee, which Theo gratefully accepted while Pepper and Basil greeted each other ¨C or rather, Basil enthusiastically greeted Pepper with much whining and wagging, and Pepper¡­ endured it. ¡°So. Saune¡¯s almost here. Got a date?¡± Billy poured himself another cup. ¡°I think so. Maybe.¡± Theo just held his cup next to his chest, letting the warmth spread to his body -- and incidentally keeping his tongue from being scalded. By all rights everything should start to be rationed soon (what with winter arriving and the spring famine right behind it), but coffee was the one thing Lord Bowen always insisted there be plenty of. With his connections, every merchant in the area KNEW there was always a market for coffee beans here. Productivity and guard alertness shot up significantly after the decision. ¡°¡®Maybe¡¯?¡± Billy cocked an eyebrow at him. ¡°Sherry.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°You¡­?¡± Billy made a certain movement that four out of five women would slap him for. ¡°¡­Yeah.¡± ¡°Whoa.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Theo was gentleman enough to blush about it. ¡°Why ¡®maybe¡¯?¡± ¡°Her father.¡± And Theo sighed the ¡®enduring more than my fair share¡¯ sigh. ¡°Against it?¡± ¡°No. Completely for it. Did handstands and everything. Wants us to marry right on Mickelmas.¡± ¡°Whoa.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Problem.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Will you?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Marry.¡± ¡°¡­Dunno.¡± ¡°Mickelmas. Not much time.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± The two sipped their coffee. Multiple guard whistles suddenly piped out in the night. Multiple lights snapped on from lanterns on the ground, from bedrooms and porch lights, and searchlights from the nearest guard towers. Almost immediately they found and focused on¡­ A little girl? A dainty thing in a white one-piece dress, not much taller than five feet and impossibly slender, was running her little heart out. Even panicked as she was, there was something¡­ charming about her. Her elegant movements, her almost-dancing like run, the way she dodged her pursuers, the way her short silver hair reflected golden in the lights¡­ it was like a performance. Billy and Theo couldn¡¯t look away. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The whistles kept following him, trying to surround him, and they knew the territory FAR better than he did. However, he had a MAP. It showed the layout of the village perfectly. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.More importantly, it also showed him how many were chasing him, and where they were coming from. ¡°+1 Stamina¡± had flashed at him three more times, but his endurance was running out and he was massively out-numbered. He needed a plan. He needed OUT. The massive front gates were obviously closed and locked for the night. ¡°[THIS WAY!]¡± Shouted a guard. Language Comprehension (Common): + 2 He had learned the words ¡°this¡± and ¡°way¡±. Damn. THINK! I can¡¯t hide! I can¡¯t go through the front door! I can¡¯t just let myself get captured! I can¡¯t go under¡­ A huge white sheet marched across the field in front of him, apparently on a wind-inspired trek to the pond he was currently avoiding. Behind it was¡­ I want me to know this is a really, really, REALLY bad idea¡­ ¡°But I¡¯m doing it anyways, right?¡± He responded to himself as he picked up speed. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ¡°Elf.¡± Billy grunted. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Elf.¡± ¡°Where?¡± ¡°The one they¡¯re chasing.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Billy pulled himself away from the bolted-down telescope stand to let Theo have a look. Finding her was easy, for some reason. Focusing took some work though. ¡°Pretty.¡± ¡°Yep.¡± ¡°Nice legs too.¡± ¡°Yep.¡± ¡°Good sprinter.¡± ¡°Yep.¡± ¡°Where¡¯s she going?¡± ¡°Catapult.¡± ¡°Stupid.¡± ¡°Yep.¡± ¡°¡­Huh.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°She made it.¡± ¡°So?¡± ¡°She¡¯s pulling the arm down.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t.¡± ¡°She is.¡± ¡°It takes two.¡± ¡°She¡¯s doing it.¡± ¡°Let me see.¡± Theo (reluctantly) pulled away from the telescope again. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This! Is! Freaking! Hard! To! Do! Normally, it takes a number of people to work a catapult. Two people working in concert to bring the arm down, one man to latch it place, two more men to load it and yet another man to do the aiming calculations and finally fire it. He had neither the time nor manpower to care about such things. He wanted that damn catapult arm down NOW, and it was jolly well coming down NOW. Latch: Not Needed. Ammo: Himself. Direction: Forward. Height: At Least Higher Than The Walls. The Map showed he was out of time. He could also hear the *thud thud* of many boots running towards him. More whistles blared at him. He was bathed in multiple lights. Dear God or Goddess, I hope you¡¯re watching over me or else this is going to be a REAL SHORT TRIP! He let go of the wheel, and leapt for the catapult¡¯s cup right as it immediately started lifting. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ¡°WHOA!¡± Billy and Theo were treated to the sight of an elf girl helplessly cartwheeling over the wall next to them. She easily cleared the river as well. *Thud* Pepper and Basil ignored the scene completely. Or rather, Pepper ignored both the scene and BASIL completely. Shining a searchlight themselves, they quickly spotted a surprisingly not-dead elf getting up and running, RUNNING to the woods in the distance. ¡°¡­Huh.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Huh¡­¡± ¡°¡­Yeah.¡± ¡°I wonder why.¡± ¡°Mike.¡± Theo made it sound like it was blindingly obvious. ¡°Oh.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Makes sense.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Billy sipped his now-lukewarm coffee and made a face. He put down the cup and picked up Basil¡¯s leash. ¡°So.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Will you?¡± ¡°What, marry?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°¡­ Maybe.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Paperworks¡¯ yours.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°You relieved me. I¡¯m off to Tower #1.¡± ¡°Bastard.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± And with that, Billy put Basil¡¯s leash on him and led/dragged him outside. Pepper yawned and decided to take a nap. My apologies to everyone for the long wait. I''m not dropping this series. Real life got me. I was told I had to transfer about a terabyte''s worth of data... using those old, OLD 1.4mb floppy disks. Then I had to transfer THAT to old 16mb thumbdrives, then to a 64gig external harddrive, then to a brand new computer. Then I had to make the old Windows 95 era software work with Windows 10. Honestly, I was so frustrated and brain-dead each day I couldn''t even focus my eyes. Made driving home real fun. Oh, and before I forget, a special one-time treat for rusticsoldier: "another thousand words". Side Chapter: A Tale of Three Sisters Hi there. My name is Cynthia Gedder. I hit people, and I¡¯m dead. You probably want more information than that, don¡¯t you? *Sigh* Right. Fine. I¡¯m not quite all the way dead, but I do hit people. HARD. I¡¯m not sure what to call it myself. It¡¯s not boxing. It¡¯s not brawling either. If someone swings an arm at me, I break it. If the idiot tries to kick me after that, I break his leg too. I¡¯m getting quite good at it. One adventurer called me a ¡°monk¡±. I thought those were people who shave a round bald spot on their heads, wear brown robes that use a thin rope as a belt and fight with staves, so I don¡¯t think that¡¯s it. I could be wrong though. I doubt Teresa and Joan would appreciate a shaved head either. Life these days has been¡­ good¡­ if a little slow. Slow is good. Safe is good. Uneventful is good. Even if it¡¯s a little¡­ uneventful? Okay, I¡¯ve been bored. I admit it. I¡¯m liking the beer a little too much these days too. I¡¯m not drinking as much as Mike here has been since he lost his job, but still... Hmm? Yeah. Mike and I are¡­ Actually, I¡¯m not sure what Mike and I are. We drink together sometimes. I listen to him complain about things. Sometimes I hit him. Sometimes I help him. We¡¯re not friends though. I don¡¯t hate Mike Evans quite as much as Joan does¡­ But I don¡¯t like him as much as Teresa does either. I mean, I understand both their reasons, but¡­ I just don¡¯t care. Mike doesn¡¯t matter. Not much is all that important to me anymore. I read this line in a book once by a famous adventurer: ¡°All that matters¡­ is all that matters.¡± I had no idea what it meant at the time, but it¡¯s been stuck in my head ever since¡­ Well¡­ ever since. You get a new perspective on life after you die. You should try it sometime. No, I don¡¯t mean die right now, just imagine it instead. Pretend that in five minutes from now, you will die, and there¡¯s nothing you can do about it. Just three-two-one *ARGH*, and you¡¯re worm food, alright? And that¡¯s it. You¡¯re gone. THE END. Here¡¯s the thing: just before you die, what do you still care about? Politics? Sports? Romance novels? Gossip? Some part of the world you¡¯ve never been to? What DOES matter, in the end? ¡°All that matters¡­ is all that matters.¡± There, see? Life can be boiled down to just one simple truth: All that is TRULY important¡­ well, that¡¯s ALL that is truly important. Life is what matters. Family is what matters. A safe place for children to be born and to grow up in is what matters. A better future for everyone you care about is what matters. Being remembered in a good way matters. Knowing where your soul is going matters. Worshiping the goddess Ilya matters, at least as long as she keeps up her side of the bargain and protects her worshipers, but don¡¯t tell her I said that, okay? Everything else is noise. If Teresa wants to have children with Mike, then great! Wonderful! I¡¯ll support her. If Mike turns his life around, settles down with her, and becomes a good father then great! Wonderful! I¡¯ll support him too. I doubt it¡¯ll happen. I mean, just look at him right now. Does THAT look like father material to you? But hey, I¡¯ve already seen one miracle. I¡¯m here, after all. But if he EVER raises his hand against her¡­ I¡¯ll put him down myself. Family is what matters the most, after all. Also assuming Joan doesn¡¯t beat me to it while screaming, ¡°I told you so!¡± What, nothing? *Sigh* Hmm? Oh, Joaniepoo hasn¡¯t been talking to me lately. Personally, I think she really had the hots for that elf boy who ran away. She¡¯s been quiet in her corner like a smitten teenage girl sighing over a painting of her favorite bard. I didn¡¯t think she was the cradle-robbing type, but I guess you can¡¯t truly know your own family¡­ Oh come on! Still nothing? HELLLOOOOO! Joanie! Joaniekins! Joanie-strawberry-watermelon-creampuff! *Sigh* You know, I wonder how many times that adventurer had died before he wrote that book? It¡¯s been too damned quiet around here, and I¡¯ve been too damned bored. I don¡¯t want to become the kind of person who beats up a person just to beat up a person. There was that fun with the elf boy two weeks ago. You know, the one Joanie-chickenfeathers is lusting over? Yeah, that one. I thought things were going to finally get interesting around here when he appeared out of nowhere, NAKED, but instead it became all alarms and finger pointing when he suddenly up and ran for the hills. Something sure scared the hell out of that little bugger. I wonder if Joan-lone-bone thinks it¡¯s her fault? Hey, did you know he could make money appear out of thin air? It¡¯s true, I saw it! For a poor frontier town like this, that¡¯s like a godsend. Actually, he WAS a godsend, wasn¡¯t he? I mean, he appeared in the church and everything. Huh. I never thought of it that way before. Teresa was always the most religious one of us sisters. Anyways, the kid ran away, right? Daniel Bowen was REALLY angry¡­ But Lord Bowen was FUMING, and THAT¡¯S not something you want to be near. Believe me, Lord Bowen¡¯s voice is really wasted here in this backwater place. I swear, it¡¯s like a panther gargling oiled gravel. He should be on a stage, growling lines like, ¡°GO FORTH! BRING THE EVIL KINGDOM TO ITS KNEES IN THE NAME OF THE KING! WE ARE RIGHT! WE ARE STRONG! WE WILL HAVE VICTORY ON THIS DAY! CHARGE! ¡± You haven¡¯t met him yet, have you? I¡¯ve heard merchants say they can¡¯t remember what he looks like because they keep staring at his mouth, waiting on his every word. I mean, even when he¡¯s says something normal like, ¡°I think it might rain soon¡±, people can¡¯t help but wonder if the rain clouds coming their way are somehow magically alive or if that means somebody¡¯s house is about to be destroyed by lightning and tornadoes. When he says, ¡°It¡¯s a nice day,¡± everybody expects him to look all-knowing and continue with, ¡°for NOW.¡± I¡¯m not kidding. He¡¯s just that charismatic. I REALLY want to hear him reading from a book of erotic fiction sometime¡­ *slurp* Uh¡­ yeah. Where was I? So Lord Bowen has this great voice, right? So when he gets angry, people get the urge to run and hide. They''ll even feel real pity for whoever he¡¯s angry at¡­ once they get past their happiness that it¡¯s not THEM. Lord Bowen was really, REALLY angry at Mike Evans here. Apparently he left the innermost doors unlocked, was drinking on the job, and he even almost raped a little girl. Naturally, he lost his job after that. He still won¡¯t talk about what happened, though. The men already hated him (no big surprise there, he¡¯s a stud, and he knows it), but if there¡¯s one thing women will never forgive, it¡¯s a rapist. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!Sure, there are still women who still think it¡¯s some kind of mistake, but they can¡¯t stick up for him as much as they used to. Teresa¡¯s been letting him sleep in our bed so she doesn¡¯t have to pray for so many healing spells every morning. But every night I¡¯m the one watching him drink until he¡¯s like this. Pathetic, isn¡¯t it? Hmm? What¡¯s that? Oh. Right. The whole part about me being dead. *Sigh* Okay. It¡¯s not very pleasant though. Our family was fairly small. Mama, papa, eldest brother Ricky, little Kyle, and us three sisters, myself the eldest, then Joan, and adorable little Teresa. We spoiled the heck out of her because she was just so cute. The darling of the family. We were headed to this tiny frontier town called Bowen Village, along with the Evans family of twenty. Apparently they had kin in the new place who practically ran it themselves, or so they said. I remember thinking it was all like unicorn dung: even if it existed, it couldn¡¯t be all THAT great now, right? We were going to start a new life there. Daddy was sick of working for our previous lord, the Earl of Cumber, and since he was the third son of his family he wouldn¡¯t inherit anything anyways and so needed land of his own or something like that. We were being escorted by a group of adventurers calling themselves ''The Ebon Hand''. Rough bunch. Perhaps the name should have tipped us off, but all adventurers we had heard about called themselves stupid names like ¡®Black Swords¡¯, ¡®Lightning Force¡¯, or ¡®Beasthunter Six¡¯. Men. The leader of the group was called Randal (or Randell) ¡®the Savage¡¯, and I remember thinking he must be very brave because he had so many scars. I was so childishly stupid back then. Men don¡¯t get scars for being brave. Men get scars for being stupid. The brains of the group, his friend ¡®Lucky¡¯ though¡­ He was a sneaky bastard. More ¡°bastard¡± than ¡°sneaky¡±, unfortunately for us. He stole from people, pretending to ¡°accidentally¡± bump into them while lifting their purses. However, when Joan, still only ten at the time, confronted him about it he denied it and laughed it off, eventually promising that he¡¯d let her see for herself when we finally made camp around halfway to the village. But instead that was when he pulled out his sword and swung at her head with it, knocking her out with the flat of the blade. Our so-called ¡®protectors¡¯ then pulled out their weapons and started killing everyone. They kept the women, Joan as well, alive long enough to¡­ violate them... over and over... endlessly¡­ until finally even they had enough and then they killed them too. Mama hid me underneath some blankets in the wagon, and Teresa behind some barrels. When one of the thugs finally came looking I kicked out at him and by the luckiest of shots managed to kick him in the neck. I felt something crunch under my foot. He went down. I ran out of that wagon. I had to save Teresa. Give her time to escape. Create a distraction. I ran at Lucky. I had no plan. I wanted to at least¡­ hurt him¡­ for what he had done. He waved his hand at me, inviting me closer with an evil smile. That¡¯s when I found out how he had earned his name. He wasn¡¯t ''lucky''. He was prepared. My feet stopped working, after I stepped on some caltrops he had spread on the ground. When I opened my mouth to scream, he threw some kind of dust at me, which made me cough and choke, and made my eyes burn. I never saw the blade that killed me. I just remember the impact when it entered my chest, and then the searing hotness of the pain and the sudden loss of strength as my body stopped doing what I wanted it to do. And then I died. And Teresa? Dear, sweet little Teresa? She was the bravest of us all. Seeing her family and friends die¡­ and worse¡­ and knowing that she was next¡­ She lifted the smallest keg of lamp oil we had¡­ She poured it over her head¡­ And then, inside that wagon with all of our belongings, all our family history, she picked up some flint and steel¡­ And she set herself on fire. What¡¯s worse is that she couldn¡¯t get it to work on the first go. Can you imagine it? Seeing all those horrible men, looking at her with their evil smiles, imagining her naked and... *Clack!* Nothing. *Clack!* Maybe a spark, but not enough. *Clack! Clack! Clack!* Finally, it starts burning. SHE starts burning. And then the pain starts... Joan and I died that day, but somehow, by some miracle, Teresa lived. Somehow, she crawled out of the inferno that was our burning family wagon. The thieves, for whatever reason, had left. Perhaps they feared the fire and smoke would attract attention. Perhaps they believed that once night fell our spirits would seek vengeance against them. Or perhaps they just wrote the whole wagon off as a loss and left with the rest of the loot. Scum like that can be practical that way sometimes. We crawled the rest of the way to Bowen Village. Yes, ¡®we¡¯. Somehow Joan and I had joined with Teresa¡¯s soul. Every time she passed out, from the pain, or from exhaustion, one of us would be able to take over her body and continue our trek. When the two of us passed out as well, Teresa would wake up again. I don¡¯t know how long it took us, but eventually we were discovered by some scouts and carried the rest of the way to the Church of Ilya inside the nipplefort here. They meant to use one of the healing scrolls kept there, but instead the goddess Ilya Herself healed her, with a bright light beaming from her floating holy symbol, proclaiming to all that Teresa would henceforth serve in Her name as cleric. Everyone was pretty darn happy to hear that, and everybody could respect a little girl who had crawled all that way with such terrible burns. Well. They could respect her, but they couldn¡¯t look at her. Only Mike and that elf boy has ever looked straight at us without looking like they want to vomit. Don''t worry about it. I know you don''t mean to, and we''re used to it now. You know what, though? Joan and I, we had done our job. We got our beloved Teresa, our only surviving family, to safety. We should have moved on. You would think that, wouldn¡¯t you? But we were trapped. Trapped by the words, ¡°If only¡­¡± For Joan, it was, ¡°If only I could have been able to tell that those people were evil from the start¡­¡± She eventually got her wish, and became a paladin. For me, it was, ¡°If only I were just a little faster, just a little stronger, if only I had things I could throw too¡­¡± I learned a lot from that bastard, ¡®Lucky¡¯. I have my own set of caltrops now, and a few other things. I can almost keep up with a running horse too. I¡­ WE won¡¯t die so easily next time. Pour us another drink, will you? Leave the bottle. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll make sure Mike and the three of us get home to bed. Well, that got dark... I should have ended on something funny. You know, even if Cynthia DID get her lustful wish and Lord Bowen started reading erotic fiction to her, it would most likely be from the Humiliations of a Wandering Elf Princess series. Now THAT would be awkward to have to sit through, don''t you think? Especially if your name is Joan... Feeling Run Down? From the Diary of Blake Bowen, Lord of Bowen Village: Autumn, in my 35th year and the 19th of my rule: It is Mickelmas Day here in the village. I have presented my staff with various gifts from my last trip to the capital to pay the final installment on the Sentinal, which still hasn¡¯t arrived. I am becoming worried about it, and also about Mike Evans. Although I believe I made the right decision to fire him from his job, I fear he may be trying to destroy himself. He has been spending a great many of his days in the tavern, sometimes accompanied by Cynthia, and usually to extremely late hours. Sister Teresa is starting to complain about feeling sick in the mornings. I hope it¡¯s just hangovers. Another ranger had to be carried home by stretchers for healing. It¡¯s the second time this week. At first they said they were tricked by some kind of new monster, but after I questioned them further, they both finally admitted that they stepped into their own traps after they got distracted watching some ghostly pale girl of surpassing elegance in a white dress dancing near the forest. If it¡¯s the elf boy, then there is still hope of enticing him back here. If not, then I¡¯ll have to gather funds for an extermination, and I can¡¯t make funds appear from nowhere like he apparently could. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- +1 Stamina Alchemy. The quasi-science of creation, combination, and transformation. ¡°JUST STOP IT!¡± In Legendary Tales Online, Alchemy the class had two forms: Medicine: The creation of potions for personal benefit. These can be for internal use, such as healing potions, or external use, such as poison. Chemistry: Turning one thing into another. For example, converting a wooden plank into a shield, transforming steel ingots into mithril ingots, or combining similar magic items together such as two magic rings of +5 to Strength into a new ring of +10 to Strength. ¡°GO AWAY!¡± Unfortunately, the class of Alchemist in Legendary Tales Online had some rather glaring problems: 1. It required materials, turning even the smallest quest (say, to collect and deliver bear rumps) into a scavenger hunt for reagents. This did not endear the alchemist player to the rest of his party. 2. Alchemist recipes were not just given out. Players had to find recipes by completing a quest or looking it up elsewhere online. This did not endear the class to older players. 3. LTO was a grindfest that espoused the concept of ¡°learn by doing¡±. Leveling up an alchemist meant making potions and converting stuff, using whatever could be found (using up valuable time that could be spent killing monsters) or bought (using up valuable money that could be used to improve equipment). All of which meant that a player with the Alchemist class leveled up slower and had worse equipment as well when compared to anyone else spending the same amount of time. This did not endear the class to the younger players. 4. Naturally, all of the preceding problems could be solved by Spending Real Money. This, however, led to the perception that anybody with a high level in Alchemy was ¡°obviously¡± a rich bastard paying his/her way up. This did not endear the class to anybody. ¡°STOP CHASING ME!¡± In the two weeks since he escaped from Bowen Village via catapult (thankfully he could heal), Healz Pleaze the Medic (Cleric / Alchemist) had learned a grand total of TWO recipes through tedious trial and error, and had gained a whole 12 experience points in Alchemy. ¡°DON¡¯T YOU HAVE BETTER THINGS TO DO???¡± One of those recipes was Alchemical Grenade. ¡°OH COME ON!!!¡± Fun Fact #1: Alchemical Grenades are a useful weapon in Legendary Tales Online, doing a flat 10 points of damage with a 1¡¯ radius at level 1. ¡°ARGH! YOU BASTARDS!¡± Fun Fact #2: Alchemical Grenades are not NEARLY as useful in actual fantasy worlds. Never, EVER throw a loud noise-maker in a forest filled with monsters. THEY REALLY DON¡¯T LIKE IT. ¡°GAH! I HATE YOU SO MUCH!¡± Fun Fact #3: Screaming at the top of your lungs is NOT a viable way to deter pursuit, nor is it recommended to anybody who does not want to attract MORE pursuers. +1 Stamina Fun Fact #4: Dire Boars are fast, mean, and determined creatures who typically have more than 10 hit points of life. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mickelmas night, and death was coming for them. The moon was just a sliver this night, adding almost no illumination to the scenery at all. Shiela Ellis moved her hands as if conducting an invisible orchestra. She could feel the rough bark of the tree as she pressed her back against it. She could almost see the nearby trees. She could somewhat see Heinrick standing protectively in front of her. She could see the blood dripping from his side. She couldn¡¯t see the goblins at all. But she could see her Symbols. Magic is naturally chaotic. To cast a spell one must direct the energy to where you want it to go, and make sure that it has no choice but to go in that direction. You impose RULES on chaos. Magnuson ¡°Beloved of the Phoenix¡± Deckard, a famous mage, once (and only once) explained how magic works like this: ¡°Casting magic is the act of telling the world what you want and MAKING the world say, ¡®Sure¡¯. Let¡¯s say for whatever reason you want a duck. Let¡¯s also say that somehow you have a spell called Duck Summoning I right in front of you. Good job¡­ I guess¡­ First you must memorize the spell. This is like learning how to draw a duck with the world¡¯s largest quill, only the ink is your magic power and the paper is in your mind. The stronger your mind, the larger the sheet of paper you can work with. You have to correctly draw the feathers, the bill, and the webbed feet, or it won¡¯t work. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.Let¡¯s say you managed to do it right the first time. Now it¡¯s time to cast it. What makes a spell? A spell is a combination of the Power, the Words (stating what you want to happen), the Material Component (meaning something that symbolizes what you want), and the Somatic Component (aka the famous hand waving). Now, what makes a duck? The Power is that picture you drew, the Words are you going ¡®quack quack¡¯, The Material Component is a duck feather or three, and the Somatic Component is you connecting the Symbols for ¡®Creature¡¯, ¡®Water¡¯, and ¡®Swim¡¯. If you do it all correctly, the universe should look at your drawing, hear you quacking, see the feathers and think, ¡®If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it must be a duck!¡¯ and then *BAMF!* Congratulations, you now have a duck.¡± Her hands connected the Symbols for ¡®Light¡¯, ¡®Fire¡¯, and ¡®Place¡¯. She held out a dead firefly. ¡°As you once lit up the night, I ask that you glow once more with LIGHT!¡± The firefly disappeared in a puff of green flame, and the small ball of fire lifted off of her hand. As it reached a point three feet above their heads it flared to greater life, becoming as bright as a torch. Several goblins suddenly discovered they were entirely too visible. Heinrick moved, his longsword impaling one in the gut and his dagger breaking off in the neck of another. He swore, and dropped the dagger¡¯s hilt. Things just got harder. But with light came options. Shiela¡¯s hands danced in the eerie light, connecting the Symbols for ¡®Air¡¯, ¡®Magic¡¯, and ¡®Flight¡¯. ¡°Those that I despise, my magic spits at you! Magic Missile!¡± Four slingshot rounds that were in her hand disappeared into light, which then launched themselves against three of the goblins she could see: the one staggering away from Heinrick holding its stomach, one that was holding a spear, and two for the burly-looking one in the back. Only the sword-stabbed one went down. Damn. And that was her last spell. Grimly, she gripped her staff. Tonight, they die. Merry Mickelmas, Heinrick. You were a good friend and a good brother. I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t give you your present in time. *BOOM!* There was an enraged squeal. Something small, light, and clad in white ran past the goblins, its figure somehow elegant, its movements, like dancing. And several ABSOLUTELY FURIOUS Dire Boars found around a dozen smelly goblins just standing there, waiting for them. They weren¡¯t even looking their way. Heinrick backed away from the carnage and grabbed Shiela¡¯s hand. One does not pick a fight with multiple Dire Boars with just a longsword. Slowly, quietly, they retreated. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Heinrick suddenly collapsed. ¡°HEINRICK!¡± She turned him over, noticing his ashen face. The wounds and the blood loss were finally catching up to him. ¡°You must¡­ finish the job.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t talk like that! I¡¯m not leaving you!¡± ¡°They can¡­ smell the blood¡­ come afterwards. Go.¡± ¡°Heinrick¡­¡± ¡°[Excuse me, I can heal him.]¡± Strange words. Unknown language. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Who¡­ are you?¡± Coming towards them came a small figure, dressed in white. ¡°[Inventory.]¡± From somewhere it pulled out a lamp. Bright light suddenly filled the area, and they could see quite clearly again. It wasn¡¯t a ghost, it was¡­ an elf? A girl of ethereal beauty, and soft-looking, silvery-blue hair. Okay, stop staring at her. Heinrick! Heinrick is DYING! She leaned over Heinrick once more, only to be gently pulled back. The elf pointed at the bleeding man. ¡°[Select. Holy Light.]¡± Heinrick gasped. His wounds¡­ healed. No. That¡¯s not right. They disappeared. His wounds¡­ never were. Even the blood that had soaked his clothes was gone. The elf looked at them with an altogether lovely smile that made both of them forget to breathe for a moment. ¡°[We¡¯re safe here for now. No monsters nearby.]¡± That voice¡­ like singing¡­ ¡°[Say, would you like to form a party?]¡±
Healz Pleaze has invited you into his party! Accept / Decline
¡°...What the hell?¡± I finally worked out (you budding writers out there take note) that when I use a bracket [when talking in a different language] I had BETTER not start the sentence with the letter "I". For whatever reason the software REALLY wants it to mean Italics, even if the closing bracket is a full paragraph away... or on another page... or never existed in the first place... So what does Duck Summoning II do? Well, as the great Magnuson Deckard once famously said (before decking the guy for being the hundredth person to ask that), "I don''t give a duck!" Language Grinding and Loot Binging ¡°Tree.¡± ¡°[Tree.]¡± Language Comprehension (Common): + 1 ¡°Leaf.¡± ¡°[Leaf.]¡± Language Comprehension (Common): + 1 ¡°Sword.¡± ¡°[Sword.]¡± Language Comprehension (Common): + 1 ¡°Dagger.¡± ¡°Hey! [Where did] you [get that from???]¡± ¡°Oh come on, work with me here! You owe me that much. DAGGER.¡± ¡°[¡­Fine... Dagger.]¡± Language Comprehension (Common): + 1 ¡°Good!¡± The two humans had turned down his party invitation, or rather, it turns out that Heinrick Ellis was illiterate and when the popup sign appeared he tried to attack it out of reflex ¨C and accidentally pushed the Decline button. Shiela ELLIS (it turns out she was Heinrick¡¯s smarter little sister) just flat-out refused, like a person being asked to join a religion that involved eating tinfoil and acorns. It was sort of odd that the signs were in Common, but after some thought it made sense. If it was in his language they wouldn¡¯t know what was going on, and that sort of thing is a big no-no in online gaming. It wasn¡¯t Heinrick¡¯s fault that no MMO game is programmed to cater to people who can¡¯t read. He still wasn¡¯t used to the differences between stats from Legendary Tales Online and whatever system this place used. Heinrick was a level 6 Ranger, and apparently he has always been one. He didn¡¯t grind the Warrior class up to level whatever and then switch, nor is ¡®Ranger¡¯ a combination class of ¡®Woodsman¡¯ and ¡®Fighter¡¯ or whatever. Shiela was, simply, a Wizard. Not a Warmancer or Illusionist or Enchanter, just a generic ¡®Wizard¡¯. It gave off a sort of a ¡°one-size-fits-all¡± feeling. After declining his party invitation, one could say ¡°negotiations broke down¡±, in that he couldn¡¯t persuade them to reconsider since he couldn¡¯t speak their language. ¡°Rock.¡± Therefore he was forced to begin language grinding. Heinrick sighed the sigh of people dealing with children demanding they pay attention to them. ¡°[¡­Rock.]¡± Language Comprehension (Common): + 1 ¡°Up.¡± ¡°[Look. Can¡¯t you bother her instead?]¡± ¡°[No!]¡± yelled the girl from ten feet away. Language Comprehension (Common): + 1 He had learned ¡°no¡±. It seemed Sheila was all too aware of his presence. She had snatched away his lamp, and was doing her best to ignore him, saying that she wanted to [memorize spells], whatever that meant. It looked like she was just reading a book, but her eyes would glass over occasionally and she took forever to turn a page. Occasionally her hands would move in the air, tracing something only she could see. When he had sat next to her during one of her moments of lucidity she got all flustered and made quite a fuss, and whenever she thought he was far enough away from him she would softly mutter what sounded like a curse: ¡°[She is a GIRL. You¡¯re not attracted to GIRLS¡­ She is a GIRL. You¡¯re not attracted to GIRLS¡­]¡± It hurt his feelings, just a little bit. Heinrick also got brightly red-faced when he followed him around a tree after that and discovered him¡­ in the act of what he called [draining the sea serpent]. He was 99% sure that was a euphemism, but his Language Comprehension (Common) skill didn¡¯t trigger so it remained a mystery. A very, very obvious mystery, but still. More importantly was the realization: It had been over two weeks since he had appeared in that church/tower/place with all the walls. Not once has he¡­ relieved himself¡­ like Heinrick apparently did. Not once has he felt hunger, or thirst. Not once has he slept. It was entirely possible he would never do such things again. Such bodily weaknesses are annoyances, and no MMO would allow annoyances to get in the way of gaming. So every single minute he had spent free from the village he had been collecting ingredients for his Alchemy class, finding and looting every single hidden treasure under every rock and fallen tree trunk he could find, and avoiding the occasional monster that thought a solitary elf might make for a good snack. He had money. (No, Heinrick wouldn¡¯t sell him his pants and shirt. Dammit.) He had items, all magical. Some, he had even managed to identify with ID Gems he had found along the way. He had thrown away the rest. (In the future, a group of Rangers From Bowen Village would gain A LOT of spare change finding these discards and selling them to traveling merchants¡­) He had found enough reagents to spam recipe tryouts. He had only found two recipes so far, so it was clear he was missing something or was just not high enough level yet. And speaking of level, his experience points were an abysmally low 57 out of the 500 he needed, most of which were gained when he had healed Heinrick. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Still, perhaps his Language Comprehension (Common) was high enough now. ¡°You two. ¡®Yes¡¯ [party]. Me give you many.¡± ¡°[Oh ho! You learn fast, don¡¯t you?]¡± ¡°[Wait, what sort of things?]¡± It seemed Shiela had finished reading her book for now. Yessss¡­ Come closer¡­ I won¡¯t bite¡­ ¡°You.¡± He pointed at Heinrick. ¡°Good sword. Good good dagger! Armor.¡± ¡°You.¡± He pointed at Shiela. She blushed and backed away a little, before realizing she was being silly and then blushing more, which made her back away more¡ª Get! Back! Here! Just WHAT do you have against me, already? Do I stink? ¡°You.¡± he repeated. ¡°Good ring. Good good stick!¡± I know I haven¡¯t had a bath in over two weeks, but I haven¡¯t noticed any animals or monsters going ¡®PeeYEW!¡¯ when I was near them¡­ There was a river nearby. Can I get them to-- On the map, a large number of red triangles were approaching. Oh crap¡­ ¡°Uh¡­ Bad! There! Many bad! Many many bad! Please join my party now!¡± In front of them appeared a familiar floating sign:
Healz Pleaze has invited you into his party! Accept / Decline
¡°Hurry! Many bad! I give you! Please!¡± ¡°[Dammit! Not NOW!]¡±
Heinrick Ellis has joined your party!
YES! ¡°What? No!¡± He was finally beginning to understand their sentences. Good going, Language Comprehension (Common) ! ¡°Wrong one--¡± ¡°Inventory! Here! Hurry!¡± From out of nowhere he pressed heavy items into Heinrick¡¯s arms. Jagged Long Sword (+56% to Damage) Deadly Dagger of Shock (+89% to Damage, Adds 1-10 Lightning Damage) Azure Leather Armor (+12% Resistance to Cold) ¡°[Huh? How do I know what these can do like that?]¡± The simple answer was that they had been Identified with an ID Gem. Any person picking up one of these items would instantly know their properties. ¡°Shiela! Hurry!¡± ¡°[No! I-I-I don¡¯t know! What if--]¡± Dammit, I don¡¯t know if this will work, but¡­ He grabbed her arm and spun her around. He held her hands to his chest and gently started caressing them as he moved even closer. Close enough for her to look down and kiss him, if she wanted. He looked up at her with his best glistening puppy dog eyes. ¡°¡­Please?¡± That was perhaps the reddest face he had ever seen. She was trembling quite a bit. Damn. Could she-- ¡°[Okay!]¡± She breathed.
Shiela Ellis has joined your party!
It was a shame to have to destroy the moment, but Shiela needed the items he had set aside for her. Bronze Ring of the Moon (+10% to Accuracy, +1 to all Stats) Summoner¡¯s Staff (+1 to all Magic Spells) "[Wait, what does--]" Unfortunately, it was at that moment several goblin arrows came flying at them. I deeply apologize for the wait, but I live by the concept that if I get stuck, then I must delete the whole damn chapter and start over. This chapter is version 8, if you can believe it. I spent so much time walking outside, muttering "and then SHE.... No... And then THEY... No..." that my calves could pass for a soccer player''s, and my neighbors think I have either gone insane or I''m talking to someone with one of those bluetooth phones hidden under my hat. A Little Threesome With Goblins SHIELA ELLIS: She kept standing in front of me, that beautiful elf. Even though the arrows kept piercing her lovely slim body. Over and over again. So tiny. So brave. I should be the one protecting her, but she wouldn¡¯t let me. I tried telling her to move, saying she was blocking my shot, but¡ª She tried. I saw her raise her arm. She desperately tried to let it hit her instead. Really, what a nice, sweet girl she is! How self-sacrificing! The arrow pierces my neck. I don¡¯t feel it right away. Instead I notice my hands as my spell fails. The magic power burns my hands. More magic than I used! How? My hands become black charred bones. OH GODDESS! THE PAIN! IT HURTS! Blood sprays out, so much blood! My blood! My hands! My neck! Can¡¯t focus- Falling- I¡¯m so sor- ¡°[Holy Light.]¡± ...Huh? I¡¯m all better? I look at my hands. They¡¯re completely fine. I touch my neck. Nothing there. ¡­It¡¯s a miracle. It IS a miracle! We CAN win this! We CAN survive! The girl is an angel! She must be! Right. I consciously take a deep breath. I¡¯m not afraid. I¡¯ll show her. I¡¯ll show them. My real power. Heinrick tries to die in front of me again. She¡¯s not having it. Neither am I. Digging out the coin on a string I had prepared earlier, I calm my mind. I raise my hands. It¡¯s gonna suck to be you guys. I swear it. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- HEALZ PLEAZE: The spell she was trying to cast fizzles in the air. Shiela is dying. Like hell she is. Nobody dies unless I SAY they can die. ¡°Holy Light.¡± +10 XP Shiela¡¯s life bar is back to maximum. She seriously needs more hit points. I¡¯ll have to work on that. My map shows the goblin archer shooting at us from the side. Looks like he¡¯s trying to get behind us. He¡¯s very quiet. Fast too. He might have thought he was succeeding. Heh. Sucker. I run to the bush he was crouching behind and casually toss him overhanded. Goblins are so light! I¡¯ve even invented a new game. ¡°Heinrick!¡± The ranger stabs the goblin out of the air with his longsword. MY longsword. It¡¯s serving him well. +33 XP Oh yes. Very well indeed. My face hurts because I¡¯m smiling so much. THIS. THIS is what I needed, what I¡¯ve been missing. I WAS a loser. I WAS worthless. Powerless. Helpless. Hopeless. Old, ugly and fat. A nobody. No longer. I¡¯m NOT a loser anymore. I¡¯m NOT worthless anymore. These two would have been dead already if not for me. I AM special. *zzzz-thwak!* Heinrick goes down again, an arrow in his chest. Nope. ¡°Holy Light.¡± +30 XP He unsteadily, grimly, gets back up. Heh. Thanks for the experience points, buddy! Shiela looks relieved and happy and... determined... as I get back into position in front of her. She does some more handwaving and chants something. I can see her mana pool start refilling a little after each spell she casts. It¡¯s like each spell is pre-loaded with a set amount of mana. It¡¯s only after she casts them that she can get her power back. What a weird spell system. ¡°[Hypnotic Pattern!]¡± What weird spells. This one looks like the opening to that show The Twilight Zone ¨C the latest remake, not the old black and white ones. Trippy. Goblin movement on my map is stopping¡­ Huh. They stopped. Good spell, whatever the hell it was. We seem to have a captive audience. I may not be able to fight, but I can still throw. I wonder if Heinrick knows what a Yankees pitcher is? Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Heh. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- HEINRICK ELLIS: ¡°Heinrick!¡± A goblin sails towards me. He threw it at me. THREW. A goblin. In armor. With one hand. I stab it. Goblin kebob. Easy. It¡¯s TOO easy. What the hell are these weapons you gave me? He¡¯s smiling. That little bastard is smiling as he runs back to Shiela. He¡¯s enjoying this! We¡¯re surrounded and outnumbered. We should be running. I know goblins. I¡¯ve fought them, hunted them, and been hunted by them. But what sort of monster are you? You¡¯re no elf. I¡¯ve seen elves before. They aren¡¯t as¡­ what¡¯s the word¡­ dainty?... as you. NOBODY I know has silvery-blue hair. Not elf, not dwarf, not human. Not one would dress up as a girl either. Not on purpose. You had three arrows in you, did you know that? You acted like they were just annoying mosquitoes, even the one that went through your eye. You should be dead. I should be dead. I¡¯ve been healed before. I¡¯ve felt the pain of torn flesh sticking itself back together, the stretching, the weakness, the aching and itching afterwards. That¡¯s no healing spell you¡¯re casting. Nobody can cast the same spell as many times as you¡¯re doing. Nobody. These weapons you gave me. They¡¯re more powerful than anything I¡¯ve ever seen. The sword I¡¯m holding is PERFECT. Perfect balance, perfect weight, perfect grip, perfect edge, and it¡¯s brand new. I have no idea what it¡¯s made of, and that worries me. It feels alive in my hand, almost aiming for vital organs on its own. I¡¯m killing goblins so easily, it¡¯s like the massacre of our party before we met you never should have happened. The dagger is also brand new, and it¡¯s glowing with the power of lightning. I didn¡¯t have to speak any activating words, or charge it beforehand with blood or anything. There. That¡¯s the fifth goblin I¡¯ve killed with this dagger. The lightning is still there. This dagger is impossible, yet here it is. YOU are impossible. You¡¯re unnatural. A monster. *ZZZZ-THWAK!* I¡¯m pushed back by the arrow that enters my chest. Ah, not good. I can feel the weakness beginning to envelop my body again. I bet the perfect armor you gave me would have prevented this. I didn¡¯t have time to put it on though. My leg buckles. Air. I want to breathe, I HAVE to breathe, but¡ª ¡°[Holy Light.]¡± *flash* -- I¡¯m all better. It¡¯s like *snap*, and all the pain and blood and bones breaking happened to someone else. Even the arrow is gone, washed away by the light. Again. I should be dead. But I can¡¯t die yet. I made a contract with a beautiful devil. My sister finishes her spell. ¡°Your eyes are mine, your minds are mine, your will is no more! Hypnotic Pattern!¡± I know that spell. Good choice. Don¡¯t look. Can¡¯t look. I¡¯ll be trapped by it too. The goblins are stopping. My little sister IS a genius, after all. Much smarter than me. The boy starts running towards the goblins again. Shiela¡­ At least Shiela¡­ She must live. I must get her away from him, and out of this demonic contract called ¡®[party]¡¯! I promised Mom and Dad. She WILL live through this. Even if I have to kill him myself!
LEVEL UP!
Oh crap. A sign just appeared over his head. ...Why do I think my problems just got worse? Writer''s Tip: If you''re having trouble with a fight scene, try playing some epic music by Two Steps From Hell or Audiomachine. I promise you, your characters WILL start acting epic as well. Heck, they''ll probably start making explosions just so they can walk away in slow motion without looking at them! Your Gateway to ADVENTURE! (Whether You Like It or Not) Dawn arrived as Heinrick stabbed the last of the goblins. It was quite easy. It had still been trapped by Shiela¡¯s magic, so this was natural. I¡¯m so proud of my little sister, but¡­ BUT. It was the ONLY natural thing that had been going on. As her brother, he knew Shiela¡¯s limits. She was powerful, but she wasn¡¯t THAT powerful. Holding that many goblins, for that long, was impossible for her. Either she had changed... Or she had been changed. That little bastard gave something to her as well, didn¡¯t he? A staff and¡­ something else. What did they DO to her? The strange sign that suddenly popped up over his head, popped up over hers as well. The text in both signs were the same, from what he could tell. Not that he could tell much since he couldn¡¯t read anyways. He didn¡¯t KNOW, and that made things so much worse. So much more worrisome. The elf boy was running to each body. Sometimes he would dance. Occasionally he would even sing. Heinrick wouldn¡¯t be as bothered if the kid grabbed a fallen weapon or just searched them. Not that you could expect much loot from goblins... But instead the brat would just lightly touch them with an expectant or hopeful face. As if the corpses were just going to go, ¡°Oh sure, here!¡± or something. And then the corpse would fade away. What. The. Hell. ¡°Ooh!¡± The kid just made a cooing noise. THIS particular body was especially pleasing. That damn devil is clearly having the time of his life. That CAN¡¯T be a good thing. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ¡°Feel free to loot my body (Just take whatever you want) / Feel free to loot my body (Just take whatever you need) / Feel free to loot my body (Just take whatever you want) / But please¡­ Don''t start a band¡­¡± He had already sung, ¡°Let the Bodies Hit the Floor¡±. Legendary Tales Online has a rule for corpses, affectionately called the ¡®dibs¡¯ system by its programmers. Putting it simply, whoever killed the body, gets the body. Loot is generally weighted towards the melee combat characters, since they tend to be on the front line, as opposed to the sit-back-and-relax types such as archers and mages. So while the mage may sigh over getting yet ANOTHER battleaxe, the warrior will actually pull out his own and compare the two, while chugging from his healing potion collection. The overall effect is that while the back line may live longer, it¡¯s the front line that gets all the best equipment. Since Heinrick killed all the goblins by himself, the truth is that he actually has ¡®first dibs¡¯ on whatever loot they are carrying. Not that a certain elf would actually mention that to him¡­ ¡®Dibs¡¯ only lasts for one minute, more than enough time in a fast-paced MMO game, but after that, the body starts fading away to free up resources for the server. It¡¯s at THAT time that it becomes available to anyone else. If there¡¯s anything still in the body, it can be taken. For example, by a grinning¡­ happy¡­ dancing¡­ singing¡­ GREEDY elf boy. A certain ranger by the name of Heinrick started freaking out when the first body started disappearing. The guy got over it by the twentieth one though. Mostly. Shiela was out of it. Either that last spell put a whammy on her as well, or that level up enabled her to cross a threshold of some sort and she had to work out what that meant. Or perhaps, like him, she was agonizing over where to put the new level-up points. He had no idea what sort of system this world used. He would Examine her to check, but since he didn¡¯t do that before the battle, he had nothing to compare her stats to. Also, there¡¯s this little matter of unlooted corpses¡­ The last body started to fade away, and he quickly rushed over to it. The loot had been good. REALLY good for a level 2 character. Two rings (yes!), one amulet (yay!), assorted goblin teeth (alchemy ingredients?), multiple bows, some swords, another staff WAY too many daggers (it sucks being just level 2), AND¡­ Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Leather armor, leather pants, cloth belt, and cloth boots. CLOTHES. REAL CLOTHES. AS IN NOT-A-GIRL¡¯S-DRESS CLOTHES. HELL-FREAKIN¡¯-YES! ¡­ with a level 3 minimum level requirement. Still. Clothes. Clothes are important. Such nice kids¡­! Heinrick and Shiela had done good by him. He honestly felt like a happy father. Or perhaps a master to his minions. Either way, those two had proven their worth. He was definitely keeping them. They were in no shape for another round of combat, though. Heinrick appeared to be¡­ a little off right now, and Shiela was just completely off. Not good. Unfortunately, those red triangles on his map were still coming this way. Waaaaaaay too many red triangles. A huge number of triangles. Triangles in formation. Not one group. Multiple groups. A hostile ARMY was coming their way. Or rather, more likely heading to the village he had left behind two weeks ago. Dammit. I REALLY don''t want to, but it looks like I have to go back and warn them. My inventory just hit the weight limit too. ¡°Hey Heinrick! ¡®Up¡¯!¡± ¡°[¡­]¡± ¡°HeinRICK, ¡®UP¡¯!¡± ¡°[¡­ Up.]¡± Language Comprehension (Common): + 1 Language Comprehension (Common): Max (level 1) Thought so. Now I DEFINITELY have to go back, if only to get past the ¡®Me Tarzan! You Jane!¡¯ level of speaking. Now... How to break it to them that they¡¯re coming with me? ¡°Um¡­ Bad¡­ Many bad. Many, many, many, MANY bad. Death. We go now.¡± ¡°[Like hell there is.]¡± Huh? What¡¯s he so upset about? ¡°No! Bad! Over there, there, and there! MANY MANY bad. We go NOW! Inventory!¡± He pulled out a crystal shaped like a pyramid, and placed it on the ground. ¡°Travel Gate.¡± The crystal flashed. The flash became a strobe. The strobe increased in frequency. ¡°[Oh no you don¡¯t! We¡¯re leaving! Come ON, sis!]¡± ¡°[Mwuh?]¡± Heinrick grabbed his sister and yanked her to her feet. He turned to run, his hand desperately holding hers. ¡°Oh, what are you doing NOW¡­?¡± was the plaintive last words they heard of the elf they were fleeing from as the world turned white and all sound ceased. But only for a moment. Travel Gates move the entire party after all. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Theo Evans yawned again as he handed in this evening¡¯s paperwork and led Pepper out the door into the cold morning light. It had been a long night, and recently the number of reports about goblin sightings had been increasing. There were much fewer reports about beautiful spirits dressed in white dancing around, which was a shame. Guard work is extremely boring, after all, and given the choice of things to stare at... *Yank* ¡°WHOA!¡± Pepper had suddenly lunged forward, whining frantically as if a valuable friend was nearby. In the center of the village, between Robin Evan¡¯s General Store and ¡®Happy¡¯ Hogan Evan¡¯s farrier workshop, there was a white pyramid about the size of a large shed, shining brightly. It only took a moment after it disappeared for the alarm whistles to start blaring and the spotlights to come on. It had been a nervous week, after all. They shined on three people: a man, a young woman, and what looked like a small girl dressed in white. The first sound anybody heard from the group, was from the man. It was: ¡°WHERE IN THE NINE HELLS ARE WE, YOU MONSTER???¡± --Followed by a strange sound that nine out of ten listeners swore sounded just like ¡®an elf getting the life choked out of him¡¯. What''s that, Heinrick? "Railroading"? I have NO idea what you''re talking about. Holding, And a Grudge It has been just a little over two weeks and one day since he was ¡°reborn¡± with a new body. His beautiful, fit, healthy body. He might have been enjoying it, just a little bit. Maybe. Singing songs with his beautiful voice, for once NOT sounding like a baboon in heat. Smiling with his perfect teeth, completely free of cavities. Dancing with his lighter body, with no unpleasant jiggling fat. Stretching his muscles, with no aches or sudden pain for doing so. He didn¡¯t gasp for breath like a hippo pretending to be a locomotive anymore. He didn¡¯t pour out half his body weight in sweat anymore. His body was perfect. He was constantly moving it this whole time, constantly striving for more and more elegance in his movements, because¡­ Well, because. His body was perfect. HELLO WORLD! He was noticing this new world with all of his senses, each one far superior to what he had before. It wasn¡¯t just a matter of survival though. He could see both further and closer than ever before. The furthest tree, the smallest insect. He could hear wind blowing fallen leaves across a meadow in the distance, or pick out a single bird¡¯s song from the entire forest. Occasionally the creature in the tree wasn¡¯t a bird at all, feeding his delight in the new. Is this how real elves see the world? Is this why they¡¯re always portrayed as being REALLY close to nature? He kept thinking such things. Okay, so he might have been enjoying his new body more than he would casually admit. Maybe. He would have liked some shoes, but not once did he step on a rock (or anything else, for that matter) sharp enough to draw blood. He just didn¡¯t like having cold feet. Although it had been gotten to the point where he could see his own breath, he had not once shivered. His erect nipples did start to chafe a little from constantly rubbing against the white dress, though. Nothing that a Holy Light couldn¡¯t cure, but still it was a little annoying. Being cold is annoying. But right now, he was quite warm. He wasn¡¯t drowsy, but honestly? He just wanted to stretch out and laze on the cot. Bowen Village¡¯s jail cells are¡­ surprisingly nice. The straw was clean and even the privy bucket was emptied beforehand. ¡°OOH, she¡¯s so PRETTY!¡± Of course it was entirely possible he was receiving the jail¡¯s ¡°VIP treatment¡±. ¡°I want to hug her!¡± Only two cockroaches, and they were hiding. ¡°I wanna tickle those ears!¡± Zero mice. ¡°What beautiful eyes she has!¡± Perhaps because of all the cats. ¡°Hey, would you like some cookies? They¡¯re fresh and tasty!¡± -- And zero privacy. Don¡¯t you women have jobs to do? ¡°OH SHUT UP! HE¡¯S A BOY, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!¡± -- And Heinrick Ellis, who apparently hated him now, in the cell next to his. Why? ¡­ ¡­ ¡°NO WAY!¡± Why does he hate the one who saved his life so many times? He hadn¡¯t had the time (or the quiet) to ask. ¡°He walks like a boy, he sits like a boy, and he saw me pee. You can¡¯t fake that reaction.¡± However¡­ He DID have time for this:
HEALZ PLEAZE Level 2 Medic (Cleric / Alchemist) Elf (High Elf) Female(?) Strength: 25 Dexterity: 62 Constitution: 31 Endurance: 52 Mind: 77 Spirit: 72 Charm: 77 Luck: 61 Health: 62 / 62 Mana: 154 / 154 Experience: 573 (1500) Unused Stat Points: 5 Advantages: Adorable: You are just too cute! +10 to First Encounters with humanoids. Beautiful: You turn heads. +10 to First Encounters with humanoids. Transvestite: You¡¯re a WHAT? Random +/- modifier to all First Encounters based on Charm bonus. Virgin: You are pure and unspoiled. +10 to First Encounters with unicorns, good dragons, and followers of Good Religions. Disadvantages: Adorable: You are just too cute! -20 to Intimidate. Beautiful: You turn heads. -20 to Stealth. Transvestite: You¡¯re a WHAT? Humanoids must reroll First Encounter upon discovering your true sex. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.Virgin: You are pure and unspoiled. +30 to First Encounters with vampires, evil dragons, and followers of Evil Cults.
It looks like everything except Strength got a little boost from the level up. ¡°¡­Well now I have something ELSE I wanna tickle!¡± Let¡¯s see¡­ There¡¯s the bonus for being an elf, and for having the cleric and alchemist classes. ¡°ROBIN EVANS! Well I never!¡± I guess being a cleric is more about enduring and rallying the masses than strength at arms, huh? ¡°What? Are you saying you DON¡¯T want to slide your hand up that dress, KNOWING what¡¯s there¡­?¡± So should I put points into Strength, so I can carry more? ¡°¡­¡± Well, logically one should always put points into health to maximize survivability,ESPECIALLY if you¡¯re stuck on an alien world¡­ ¡°¡­ I¡­ I didn¡¯t say that¡­¡± Speaking of which, I still need to figure out where to put my new skill points... ¡°Whoa, look at Hilda blush!¡± WAIT, ¡®TRANSVESTITE¡¯??? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The entire party had been arrested by the guards. Apparently, it is considered somewhat rude to suddenly appear out of nowhere from inside a brightly glowing pyramid into the middle of town during the crack of dawn. Who knew? Shiela Ellis tightly held her backpack to her chest as the guards escorted her to the tower section of the nipplefort. Someone needed to explain things to Lord Bowen once he woke up, and since she was a real Wizard¡¯s Guild member with a real Wizard¡¯s Guild badge AND she had been quick to work out that this was Bowen Village she had demanded to speak with him as soon as the guards surrounded them. She had a little something for him. She also had something to talk to him about. Something that had come up while she was holding the goblins in thrall. And Lord Bowen had damn well better tell her about what he knew about it as well. Oh, and apparently there was ¡®Many, many, many, MANY bad¡¯ and ¡®Death¡¯ coming. That might be important too. At least, that¡¯s what the not-an-elf BOY said. Damn, what a long day it¡¯s been¡­ and it¡¯s still morning... She sighed again, her breath puffing out as white vapor in the cold air. I REALLY need a nap. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Lord Blake Bowen waited patiently for the servants to finish dressing him before he went downstairs. There was some odd news about a mysterious pyramid of light, and what must be the return of the elf boy. At least, he hoped it was the elf boy. This one was apparently dressed like a girl. They were being held in the jail. That¡¯s¡­ not good. If the elf is part of the Event coming (or worse, IS the Event), then antagonizing him is the WORST possible thing to do. Stories have been written about unwise it is to try to ignore Fate. History has been written about how unwise it to try to fight it. Daniel Bowen would probably agree, if only for the fiscal reasons. Apparently the boy could create gold coins out of thin air. Sister Teresa was already up, but she looked terrible. She apologized for her appearance, saying that something in the air due to the change of season was likely giving her a headache, and nausea. Pregnancy? He¡­ sincerely didn¡¯t want that. To be fair, Sister Teresa is the only cleric available to him, to the village, and there are far more advantages to having her around, (even as¡­ odd¡­ as she is) than having no cleric at all. Her becoming pregnant with a child or two would tie her down, and require her to stay longer. But she was seeing Mike Evans. Mike Evans liked the ladies, and he liked to drink. Even if Mike chose the honorable route and married her, he had seen far too many families, his own included, torn apart when one or more parents suffered from alcoholism. Sister Teresa was a good person. He wouldn¡¯t wish such a life on her even if it would improve the security of his village. It also didn¡¯t help that Mike Evans was nowhere to be seen, presumably sleeping off yet another night¡¯s drinking. *WHAM!* Sudden pressure forced him to his knees as sunlight unexpectedly blasted into the church, turning the chilly air completely toasty in a second. He could barely tell that Teresa was also kneeling nearby. HEAR MY WORDS, AND KNOW THEM TO BE TRUE! The two were forced by some instinct to bow their heads, as the glowing statue of the Goddess Ilya, the Goddess of Life and Sunlight, lifted itself gently into the air. "And now for the weather: We''ll have scattered showers and bright patches of GODDESS ILYA coming in early this morning..." Signs and Portents (mostly large and loud) Look upon this shimmering pearl. This is home. This is ALL our homes. This is what reality is made of. An iridescent sphere, constantly changing because of the magic it possesses. Look inside. This is life. Look at all the beautiful and brave flickering lights, like a billion billion tiny fireflies. The life that is¡­ our universe. You. Me. Them. Your world. All of it. It is warmth. It is happiness. It is love. It is our home. It is truly beautiful. It is truly wonderful. It is envied. It is lusted after. Not as something to be cherished, but as something to RIP FROM, to cut, to pillage, to rape. Armageddon is approaching. Invaders, outsiders, are trying to enter our reality, and your world, to make it their own. Should they succeed everything we own, everything we love, and everything we are, will be lost. Seek. Seek the invaders¡¯ points of entrance. Seek, and destroy them. You will need the one who always knows where to look. You will need the one who knows the forest. You will need the one who knows the mountains. You will need the one who knows the arcane. You will need the one who speaks with words. You will need the one who speaks with violence. You will need the one who speaks for Truth. You will need the one who speaks for Us. For those who do Our bidding, know that your heart¡¯s desire will be granted. I am your Goddess Ilya. I am Light, and I am Life. HEAR MY WORDS, AND KNOW THEM TO BE TRUE! The holy symbol gently descended back onto the altar, the sunlight blasting from it dwindling to nothing. Released from the incredible pressure, Lord Bowen and Sister Teresa Gedder collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily. Time passed¡­ ¡°Wow.¡± That was the extent of Lord Bowen¡¯s ability to speak. Sister Teresa said nothing at all, her eyes just staring. More time passed¡­ Heavy footsteps, along with the creaking and clanking of armed people wearing heavy armor, tromped up the stairs outside, heading for the third floor. Still more time passed¡­ He managed to stagger back to his feet. It took quite a bit of strength (Sister Teresa¡¯s armor is NOT light) to get her up as well. Heavy footsteps, a little slower, a little less sure this time, tromped back down the stairs. They paused at the church doors. ¡°Ah, there he is. Sir? We brought the wizard girl. She says she has¡­ Sir?¡± -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Still lying in his cell, Healz Pleaze blinked several times. ¡­What the hell? It took him a moment, but he finally noticed: All of his menus were closed, even his minimap. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. It had happened. Was that¡­ a cut scene? He got off the cot. He yawned. He stretched. He felt fully rested, just as he always did after a good¡­ Sleep? Did I¡­ actually¡­ sleep(!)¡­ during a cut scene? His mind felt clearer than ever before. ¡°Map.¡± The map appeared, showing the outline of the jail he was in. Several white triangles, signifying NPCs, clustered outside his jail door, corresponding to the group of ladies cooing at him. Heinrick¡¯s triangle sat in the cell next to his, and lastly two triangles for the two heavily armed gentlemen guarding the main door out. Unconsciously, he sighed in relief. Whatever else had happened, the booming ¡°HEAR MY WORDS¡± lady hadn¡¯t taken away his abilities... Wait. That¡¯s odd¡­ Something new had been added to his map: a yellow arrow pointing to somewhere outside the jail. And then a blue triangle appeared, as Daniel Bowen entered the building. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- All the anger, all the frustration, all the impatience drained away from Sheila when she looked upon the face of Blake Bowen, lord of Bowen Village. He had a ¡°Revelation Face¡± on. That face when up until now you had a jumbled mess, and then someone hands you a thing and suddenly everything came together and instead of a mess, you had a puzzle. She saw it a lot at the mage tower. Students who finally understood how magic is cast, and researchers she had assisted who had finally found a clue, all had that face. Always, it is best to stay back and wait. NEVER interrupt a person with that face, ESPECIALLY if they have access to magic or were in a position of power. So instead, she quietly took out the statue from her backpack and placed it by Lord Bowen¡¯s side taking care not to make any loud noises. Delivery complete.
QUEST: Deliver The Sentinel COMPLETE! +1000 XP
LEVEL UP!
¡°Oh no, NOT AGAIN!¡± She shouted in shock and fear, as her eyes started to glitter again. Just as they had back when she had first seen that sign. So much for stealth. Time once more for her own "Revelation Face". Far away from the nipplefort, in the jail the exact same signs had popped up over the heads of a certain elf, and her older brother. My own older brother is visiting. My better-than-me-in-every-way-and-the-hope-of-my-family brother. So please understand that while I love writing, right now I just want to KILL THINGS ON MY COMPUTER UNTIL HE GOES AWAY!!!! Oh, and Merry Mickelmas. ;) Sighs and Poor Tents In life, there are obstacles. This much is obvious to anyone who is currently alive. Sometimes the obstacles are mental, and are called ¡®cobwebs¡¯, ¡®blocks¡¯, or ¡®fog¡¯. Sometimes the obstacles are physical, and are called ¡®the hurdle¡¯, ¡®the wall¡¯, or ¡®the limit¡¯. Sometimes the obstacles are other people, and are called¡­ er¡­ things I won¡¯t repeat here. And sometimes, just sometimes, there is a moment in time, when the ¡®cobwebs¡¯ or the ¡®hurdle¡¯, or the [expletive deleted]¡­ Just suddenly ceases to be a problem anymore. The obstacle has been passed. In life, this is called the ¡®Eureka Moment¡¯. In GAMING however, it¡¯s called ¡®Leveling Up¡¯. There is a line. A limit is drawn, stating ¡®you can do no more than this¡¯, and it IS enforced. You can¡¯t cast that spell. You can¡¯t wear that armor. You can¡¯t wield that sword¡­ Until you reach the minimum requirements. Until you reach that level. For a MMO character, a ¡®level up¡¯ is a moment of transition, of transformation. If you¡¯re a MMO character, you can expect three things to happen:
  1. A huge fanfare proclaiming to the world that you¡¯ve leveled up;
  2. A reward of status points and skill points -- and possibly certain level-restricted items and equipment ¡°unlock¡±, allowing themselves to be used for the first time;
  3. For a moment, just for a tiny moment in time, your body glows and there¡¯s a sparkling ¡®fizz¡¯ enveloping you, as your character changes to something stronger, healthier, BETTER... with a new level limit.
Now imagine for a moment what would happen if the person getting the ¡®level up¡¯ was NOT an MMO character. Imagine if, for example, the person was an abnormal human being, a rare wielder of magic. A wizard, in particular. One cannot become a wizard without having knowledge and more importantly some sense of magic. There is fanfare. There is reward. There is transformation. What does one sense during that moment? And¡­ transformation into what? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sheila screamed. Sheila¡­ SAW. She saw the TRUTH. She had no choice. She tried closing her eyes, but that just made her vision turn inwards. Into herself. Sheila saw the TRUTH about herself. She saw her TRUE place in the universe, and just how little she mattered in it. She saw ALL of her virtues, and ALL of her faults. ALL of her victories, and ALL of her failures. She saw her own birth, and she saw her own d¡ª Crying, she pried open her eyes with her own fingers. There was pain, and she saw that her nails had drawn blood. ¡°Someone, ANYONE, MAKE IT STOP!¡± Suddenly, there was warmth. Her hands¡­ were warm. Someone... was holding¡­ her hands. A nun... with half her face covered up... was holding her hands. She looked worried. She looked-- And Sheila SAW her. Teresa Gedder. Sister Teresa Gedder. Acolyte of Ilya. Toy of Ilya. Servant of Ilya. Pawn of Ilya. She saw Teresa¡¯s past. She knew as if she were there, about the fire, about her family, about how three souls¡ª ¡°You are the one who speaks for Gods, who speaks for Truth, who speaks with violence. I SEE now. That¡¯s what he meant by [party]. He wasn¡¯t trying to deceive us. You too¡­¡± Sheila giggled. She saw on the¡ªshe saw on Sister Teresa Gedder¡¯s face that she sounded a bit mad. Somehow, she didn¡¯t care anymore. It didn¡¯t matter. She herself didn¡¯t matter. ¡°You three¡­ will join us.¡± She felt herself toppling over, her mind was¡ª This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.Turning out the light. Shutting down for the night. Good night. Time to let the bed bugs bite. Don¡¯t be a fright. Fright? Oh, right: Sheila managed with the last of her consciousness to half-whimsically, half-sadly point at the nun. ¡°And all your first loves will be in vain.¡± -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- An elf was staring at Daniel Bowen. It was a deep, longing stare. It was an uncomfortable, and yet not entirely unpleasant feeling, to be looked with such desire. It wasn¡¯t sexual. At least, he hoped it wasn¡¯t sexual. Although who can tell with elves? He knew that look. He saw it often enough from his publisher. It wasn¡¯t the look of ¡°take your clothes off before I RIP them off¡±, but more a look of greed. A look of ¡°you have something I WANT very, very badly¡±. He took the cell door key from the guard. The staring¡­ didn¡¯t intensify that much. So¡­ it¡¯s not about your freedom¡­ Money? As treasurer for the Bowen estate he had access to quite a lot of it, but¡­ No. You can make gold coins and daggers appear, so it¡¯s not financial¡­ Power? He did have clout with a number of important people, but¡­ He yawned again. He had been yawning a lot. I should be asleep in bed by now after having been up all night, but no. SOMEONE just had to teleport in via a giant glowy pyramid thing and get the guards all riled up¡­ Damn. I can¡¯t think. It¡¯s not money, it¡¯s not power, what else would he want from me? Something I¡¯m carrying? Does he want the knife and gold piece back? The women nearby started whispering excitedly among themselves. ¡°Look at how the kid is looking at him¡­ it¡¯s gotta be that, right?¡± ¡°Oh my, really? HIM? Oooohhh myyyyy!¡± ¡°I think it¡¯s beautiful¡­ true love¡­ without barriers¡­¡± ¡°Do you think Mr. Bowen knows¡­ you know, about that?¡± ¡°Oh my! OH MY!¡± ¡°I wonder if he knows that song?¡± ¡°You mean the one about elf ears?¡± ¡°Yeah yeah! That one!¡± The annoying chatterboxes seemed to be confused about the situation. The prospect of him and this elf boy¡­ Having a¡­ NO. NO WAY IN HELL. NO WAY IN NINE HELLS. ¡°OH MY! OH MY!!!¡± SHUT UP! SHUT UP, YOU DAMN COWS! -- was what he was thinking. What instead came out of his rigidly stiff smiling mouth was, ¡°Dear ladies, I¡¯m SURE you all have things that need your attention. Lord Bowen has ordered the release of these two people so I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll all have your chance to meet with them LATER. Gentlemen?¡± He motioned at the two jail guards. ¡°Could you KINDLY escort these nice ladies OUT, please?¡± He waited for peace to return. Then he waited some more for calm to return to his mind. I REALLY need to go to bed¡­ He fumbled the key into the cell door. That was his mistake. Healz Pleaze, the elf boy, shoved the door open with strength MUCH greater than he expected and advanced upon him. He could hear swords being pulled from scabbards behind him as the guards began to leap forwards. But it was already too late. His hands were grabbed, preventing his escape. Holding him in place, as a beautiful, young, silver-haired elf in a girl¡¯s purest white one-piece dress INVADED his personal space. Looking up at him with glittering purple eyes that drew him in, and a smile that lit up the room... * THUMP! * He felt his heart leap up in his chest. He felt his dry throat swallow. The world slowed down as he awaited what the girl (no, it¡¯s a boy, damn it!) would say: ¡°I come to you for training!¡± So now you know why things got confusing. On her last level-up, Sheila saw the TRUTH about Healz Pleaze. "So yeah, that girl you liked? That you were starting to feel, maybe, you might...? -- Uh no, that''s a boy. And an alien. And a reincarnated fat geezer. And he doesn''t think of you the same way." -- You gotta admit, that would make ANYONE plenty confused and distrustful. Love (and sleep gas, and panic) Is In The Air... ¡°I come to you for training!¡± Daniel Bowen tried to back up again. The elf boy stepped forward with him, and this time used his best puppy eyes while holding Daniel¡¯s hands to his chest. Cuteness Overload + Confusing Sentence = ¡°Hawha-?¡± Daniel¡¯s face got incredibly red as his mind locked itself in a loop of rage and humiliation. Half of him knew he was being played... Again. The other half knew it was working... Again. And while Healz Pleaze the elf boy¡¯s face maintained an angelic smile that made all onlookers wonder about BOTH their sexualities¡­ Inside he was smirking with evil glee. That look on your face is priceless, Mr. Daniel Bowen. Oh no, I haven¡¯t forgotten YOU, not at all. You were the one who made me a fugitive in this damn village, the only populated place around for miles. Believe me, I looked. You can do a LOT of looking when you don¡¯t need sleep. Did you know? YOU¡¯RE the reason why my character screen calls me a transvestite now. What if I HADN¡¯T found those clothes? Would it call me an ¡°exhibitionist¡± instead? That pervert almost had his way with me AGAIN because of you. Still. You ARE a trainer. Business before pleasure. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From¡­ somewhere¡­ words came unbidden to Daniel Bowen¡¯s lips: ¡°Oh ho, so you wish to learn more about the Common language, do you?¡± Who? What? Am I talking? What? His mind struggled to understand as his body suddenly relaxed, completely out of his control. The elf switched to serious mode as well, letting go of his hands. ¡°Yes sir.¡± By themselves, his hands naturally went down to his sides. He couldn¡¯t move them at all. ¡°Uh, sir?¡± asked a guard nervously. ¡°200 gold pieces.¡± He heard himself say. WHAT THE HELL IS THIS??? Amazingly, out of nowhere the elf pulled out¡­ TWO HUNDRED GOLD COINS¡­ And handed them right to him. As if this was the most ordinary thing in the world for him to do. His own hands reached up and took the fortune, more than enough for one man to live happily for at least ten years. ¡°With this,¡± his own voice spoke, ¡°you are now at intermediate level. Strive for mastery now, you hear?¡± ¡°Thank you sir.¡± With that, his body was released. The spell was broken. His body was his again. He filled it with his rage. ¡°YOU BASTARD!¡± His hands reached up to throttle¡ª His hands that were filled with a fortune in PURE GOLD. Gold or revenge? There was enough conflict in his mind¡­ MORE than enough confusion in the guards¡¯ minds¡­ For the elf to do one last thing: From out of nowhere he pulled out a capped beaker of smoky gray liquid. And in fairly good (if highly accented) Common, he said: ¡°An eye for an eye¡­ and a sleep potion for a sleep scroll!¡± -- and smashed it onto the floor. The smoky gray liquid became a smoky gray cloud almost instantly, making the guards cough¡­ But only for a moment. Then they collapsed onto the floor. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Immune to sleep effects, Healz Pleaze looked upon his work and was quite pleased. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°All this time, and only two alchemical recipes discovered. At least THIS one seems to have more practical use than the grenade.¡± Daniel Bowen lay unconscious on the floor. Helpless. Vulnerable. Maybe¡­ I should take your clothes? Give you a taste of what you put me through? Make you wear a dress? ¡­ No. There¡¯s an army coming. No time for that¡­ Unfortunately. Also, I have no desire to look at another man¡¯s junk. I got QUITE ENOUGH of that from the pervert you work with. Although he didn¡¯t know about it and wouldn¡¯t know how to look for it either, an unknown stat of his just ticked one point higher on the ¡°Good¡± scale. Now¡­ where did Heinrick go? Well, pleasure before business. Somehow he had made it to level 3. He had more skill points available. He had more stat points available. But most importantly, he had CLOTHES available! Goodbye, white dress! I won¡¯t miss you! HELLO, regular clothes! Tawny Leather Boots (+13% Resistance to Acid) Topaz Leather Pants of Thorns (+10% to All Resistances, Attackers take 3 damage) Cloak of Regeneration (Regenerates 1 Health per 5 seconds) Leather Cap of Brilliance (Regenerates 1 Mana per 5 seconds) Azure Ring of the Moon (+15% Resistance to Cold, +5 to All Stats) Ring of Spellcasting (+7 to Mind, +9 to Spirit) Hmm¡­ I could use some body armor, but I gave that to Heinrick. Now I have to wait for level 5. ¡­ Where DID he go? Oh. Right. Idiot. I can use the Map to find him. With a happy and satisfied smile on his face he left the jail, leaving the unconscious people inside surprisingly unmolested¡­ When all hell broke loose. There was suddenly a great deal of panicked yelling. Multiple alarms started going off. There was much whistling and bells. There was frantic movement along the guard towers¡­ The catapults had their canvass covers ripped off by burly men¡­ People began being herded to the nipple fort, Healz Pleaze among them¡­ For a massive army of goblins had appeared at the edge of the forest just outside the village. A minor rant, but has anyone else noticed the amount of COOKING going on in Japanese novels these days? I swear I''m not making this up! It seems that everyone in Japan has given up on junk food, microwave ovens, and store bentos. Yep, somehow McDonalds, KFC, and Baskin Robbins have all gone out of business over there because EVERY main character can make everything they sell themselves. For me the worst offender is Slave Harem in the Labyrinth of the Other World, in which the MC buys slaves SPECIFICALLY to have sex with, and each chapter goes pretty much like this: "We killed some monsters, and then we went home and had sex. Now let me tell you about this BREADED FISH dinner I made..." My main character has no need to eat. Did I miss out on turning this series into a cooking show? "OOOooooh! Delicious!" Joan said, as she ate the lobster thermidor aux crevettes, with a mornay sauce garnished with truffle pat¨¦, brandy and a fried egg on top and spam. Suddenly Cardinal Bowen and his two cronies burst into the room: "NO ONE EXPECTS THE SPAMMISH REPETITION!!!!" (Spam spam spam spam...) First Encounter Reroll Results Theo Evans was¡­ for lack of a better word¡­ Disappointed. The adorably cute elf GIRL that had catapulted over his head once upon a time turned out to be a BOY. -- Not that there¡¯s anything wrong with that. He¡¯s married now, after all. He has a pretty wife, and a VERY happy father-in-law. It¡¯s not often a man can say that. But still. Disappointed. It turns out someone had, against orders, hung laundry out to dry over the ovens on the night the BOY escaped the village, and since having clothes is better than NOT having clothes the BOY was forced to cross-dress. Perfectly understandable. Perfectly reasonable. But still. Disappointed. It was also perfectly understandable that the elf BOY would not WANT to return to the nipple fort he had escaped from. It was even more understandable that he would want nothing to do with the guards of this village, considering one of them (a total bastard named Mike Evans) tried to rape him. Oh yes, nobody in the guards is going to let Mike forget THAT entertaining little detail: ¡°Hide your sons, mothers! MIKE is coming!¡± ¡°And you DATED that pedophile, Emily? Poor thing. Come, let a REAL man comfort you¡­¡± The BOY tried to talk his way out of going to the nipplefort¡­ poorly. ¡°I go CAn¡¯t! No! It A bad place is! ScaRY!¡± It seems his language skills are not quite up to the task. He also needs help pronouncing things. He tried to run and hide¡­ poorly. It¡¯s not like he doesn¡¯t stick out in every way possible. Especially not with that white outfit. Billy easily caught him. He tried to use puppy eyes and cute pleading, but that didn¡¯t work either, because¡­ well¡­ Disappointed. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Robin Evans had been KIDDING about wanting to molest an elf boy. Really. It¡¯s true. Even if he looked so freaking adorable in that white one-piece, so much so she just wanted to hug him and never let go. Many men had courted her, but honestly, they were too¡­ much like men. Cuteness is LIFE! Cuteness is LOVE! -- has nothing to do with it. It¡¯s true! The fact that he was an elf and so would probably look that cute for a long, long time was a bonus NOT IMPORTANT AT ALL. Really! And, sure, MAYBE she might have thought of other clothes he could wear besides a white one piece¡­ Like perhaps something black, with lots of frills and lace, and maybe a bonnet¡­ But dressing up a boy like a girl is NOT one of her hobbies. Even if he WOULD look devastating in it. Really. So was it karma that ¡®forever-a-virgin¡¯ Billy and ¡®married at sword-point¡¯ Theo practically threw him in her direction when everyone gathered at the nipplefort¡¯s inner ring? The poor thing seemed terrified, trying to avoid contact with people and scanning each guard¡¯s face as he or she ran to the tower or back. He also pulled a hood over his head in an utterly charming attempt at NOT drawing attention. Well. Clearly he needed SOMEONE¡¯S help. Well fine. Nice Big Sis will protect Little Lost Lamb from all those mean Wolves. It took a bit of work, but eventually she was able to persuade everyone to not rush at him and to give him a bit of room. Naturally, protecting an elf boy required her to stand within touching distance next to him. Perfectly reasonable. Really. Hmm? He wasn¡¯t wearing a dress anymore. Instead of wearing a white one-piece summer dress (in winter?) he was wearing normal pants, boots, and a cloak¡­ Does he like the color white? -- all of which could be used in a laundry bleach commercial. Except for the cloak, his entire outfit was completely white. Despite his adorable shyness, ¡®Medic¡¯ (that¡¯s what he called himself) seemed to crave conversation, even if his language skills were poor. What was interesting was that he never made the same mistake twice after each time she gently corrected one of his cutely bad sentences. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Could he be a natural genius at languages? She was honestly having fun talking to him, repeating his sentences back: "What was that pyramid thing you came out of earlier?" "Ah. That [Travel Gate]. Um, ''a door from A to B''." "Oh, so it lets you travel from place A to place B?" "Yes. A ''Travel...'' What word not door, but go through?" "A ''gate''?" "Yes! It a ''Travel Gate''." His relieved face every time he learned something he needed was simply charming. ¡°So why white?¡± She asked, touching his cloak. Instantly her shopkeeper instincts awakened. What is this material? Soft, yet strong. And that weaving¡­! ¡°White?¡± Oh Goddess, even his confused face is KYUUUTE! ¡°¡­Hm? Um.¡± DOWN girl. Focus girl. You''re the Nice Big Sister, remember? Be the Big Sister. ¡°Er, YOU put it on, dear. Didn¡¯t you notice?¡± Actually, no, he didn¡¯t, because they WEREN¡¯T white when he put them on. Quickly he took off his cloak to look at the simple red cross on the back. Ah. Robin Evans, village gossip and owner of the General Store (and voted ¡®Best Rack in Bowen Village¡¯ for four years straight ¨C not that she was supposed to know that), received a rare treat shock: He wasn¡¯t wearing a shirt. A topless elf boy. Fluffy silvery-blue hair, in need of a good brushing... and petting. Large purple eyes, like liquid velvet. One could drown in such eyes. Long pointed ears, just like in that song which told of how to seduce an elf. ¡°Hah¡­¡± Perfect white skin, begging to be licked. A thin neck, perfect for hickeys and for tickling one¡¯s fingers along the back of. Slender, yet fit arms. Thin enough to grab and pull towards you... or to push away while you reached for... ¡°Hah¡­ Hah¡­¡± Perfect collar bones, ripe for caressing. Pert nipples, raising up in the cold air. One could easily imagine teasing and pinching them. A flat, athletic stomach, leading down to his... ¡°Hah hah hah¡­¡± Someone nearby was breathing quite loudly and spoiling her focus. How rude. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In the top floor of the tower, it was a chaos of orders, guards rushing in and out, magic items being brought in, and maids moving the non-essential stuff out of the room. Lord Bowen wasn¡¯t any less confused, but there was one thing he WAS sure of: The entire village is in the grip of an EVENT, one that has been building since Teresa/Joan/Cynthia had arrived. A strange boy appears, seemingly offering the hope of much-needed funds and weapons. The Sentinel, the early warning system he been waiting for, arrives along with a wizard, something else his village has long needed. A GODDESS deigns to talk to them, and a mysterious quest is given... Just before an entire ARMY of goblins and other monsters appears, just outside the walls. And yet¡­ the army wasn¡¯t doing anything. They weren¡¯t saying anything. They were just quietly standing there, surrounding the village. Staring. WHY? In case you''re wondering (and assuming I have any readers left), my friggin'' harddrive died on me. All my notes and references and chapters went *poof*. All gone. It''s taken me this long to get a replacement (I''m not rich) and get things downloaded/copied/sorted to the point I can work on things again. You know what? I think I might honestly like someone going "FIRST!" Nah. Probably not. How about some The Hitchhiker''s Guide to the Galaxy quotes instead? "Life...? Don''t talk to me about life!" -- Marvin, Your Plastic Pal Who''s Fun To Be With! Language Grinding II, Electric Boogaloo Why? Healz Pleaze desperately looked for an exit, a corner, SOMETHING to put between himself and the mass of humans trying to talk to him or touch him. Nothing he had said worked. Nothing he had tried worked. The guards had dragged him into the open area of the inner circle of the nipplefort, and they practically threw him into the crowd of people gathered there. He felt like a lamb thrown into a cage filled with wolves. ¡°Hey, where are you from, honey?¡± ¡°So cute!¡± ¡°Who teleported you into the church?¡± ¡°I will hug you and squeeze you and call you George!¡± ¡°Oh, so you were a boy?¡± ¡°No way! I thought he was a girl!¡± ¡°Maybe he is. Go check.¡± ¡°YOU go check!¡± ¡°So are you and Daniel Bowen dating now?¡± ¡°--Wait, what?¡± ¡°Hey, what did Mike do to you?¡± ¡°Oh yeah! I heard Mike raped you.¡± ¡°I heard it was YOU who pulled down his pants.¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s just what the girls said.¡± ¡°We did NOT!¡± ¡°Hey, did he touch you like THIS?¡± ¡°NHAA-hah!¡± He felt an electrifying, erotic shiver run through his body. His surprised voice stopped their movements. Taking advantage, he broke away from the mass of people, and with Language Comprehension (Common) only at Level 2 he screamed: ¡°NO TOUCH EARS ME!¡± -- and threw the hood of his cloak over his head. ¡°That¡­ was actually pretty damn cute.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± "...Do it again.¡± ¡°OKAY! OKAY! BACK OFF EVERYONE! YOU¡¯RE SCARING HIM!¡± A reasonably attractive woman with an overly-large chest stepped in front of him, shielding him from the crowd. Her waist was a tad wide, her legs a little too thick, else he would have suspected her of being like¡­ like¡­ what¡¯s-her-name. The one who chopped him in half back when this was just a game. Debbie? Daisy? That GIRL. That Guy In Real Life. This woman had brown hair (fairly short), but since everyone else here also had brown hair he couldn¡¯t use that as a frame of reference. What stuck out the most about her was¡­ what stuck out from her the most. That chest. Not that it mattered, though. He noticed it, but he wasn¡¯t thinking about it. Why? Why did I come back to this damn place? Why did I want to save them? Ever since my... ¡®Rebirth¡¯? ¡®Reincarnation¡¯? Whatever. Let¡¯s not start THAT again. Ever since my new life started, nothing has gone right. Even Heinrick and Shiela are treating me differently from how they used to, even though I was the one who kept them alive. The only one who treated me like a PERSON was that paladin¡­ Joan. Right. Her name was Joan¡­ Gedder? Although she also cast a spell at me. it¡¯s like I can only be an enemy or a sex toy to these humans. ¡­ Huh. When did I start thinking of these PEOPLE as ¡®these humans¡¯? As if I¡¯m completely different from them. As if they¡¯re ¡®not MY species¡¯. Did I lose my humanity¡­ when I became¡­ no longer human? That¡¯s¡­ not good. ¡°Sorry about that. They can be SUCH children sometimes.¡± Miss Big Chest had turned back towards him. ¡°Hey!¡± exclaimed someone behind her. ¡°Justin, would you like me to tell everyone about the time you took a carpet beater and¡ª¡± ¡°¡ªI¡¯ll be quiet.¡± ¡°Good.¡± ¡°¡­Carpet beater?¡± ¡°Shut up!¡± She knelt down on one knee so that their heights sort of matched. ¡°I¡¯m Robin. Robin Evans. And you are?¡± Huh. How polite. ¡°¡­ Medic.¡± Like hell I¡¯m going to say my real name. ALSO, IT¡¯S NOT MY REAL NAME! ¡°Medic¡­?¡± She asked it like ¡®and your last name is¡­?¡¯ Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.¡°Medic.¡± Firmly. ''Just ¡®Medic¡¯ if you please, thank you very much.'' Not that he could say it like that. Level 2 Language Comprehension (Common), after all. Still¡­ Maybe he could use her to help get to Level 3 comprehension. ¡°Hey. What them do?¡± He pointed at the scurrying guards as they brought more people, more cattle, more cats and dogs into the compound. Some hurried on into the tower. Some carried what seemed like important papers. He didn¡¯t see his would-be rapist¡­ yet. ¡°Hmm? Oh. ¡®What are they doing¡¯? Well you see¡­¡± Language Comprehension (Common): +5 Yes! It¡¯s working! Learning a language comes in three stages (or if you¡¯re playing a certain MMO, three Levels): 1. Nouns and verbs (the ¡®Me Tarzan! You Jane!¡¯ stage) 2. Sentence structure and pronounciation (the ¡®My hovercraft is full of eels¡¯ stage) 3. Grammar and syntax (the ¡®They¡¯re / Their / There¡¯ stage) In order to progress past level 1, it is absolutely necessary to find someone to practice on. Once you do, language comprehension usually speeds up considerably. The problem is that one tends to fear making a mistake so bad it¡¯s hilarious. The infamous ¡®Helping my Uncle Jack off a horse / Helping my uncle jack off a horse¡¯ problem. In this case though, the person named Robin Evans seemed like a good ¡®gentle older sister¡¯ type and she seemed just as delighted as him when he got a sentence right. An excellent human and teacher. No. An excellent person. Language Comprehension (Common): +15 And the points for Language Comprehension (Common) were coming in QUITE nicely. ¡°So why white?¡± She asked, touching his cloak. Normally he would have shied away, but it was a mark of his respect that he allowed it from her. ¡°White?¡± What¡¯s white? ¡°¡­Hm? Um.¡± She pointed at his clothes in confusion. ¡°Er, YOU put it on, dear. Didn¡¯t you notice?¡± Huh? His clothes had turned completely white somehow. Pure white. Bleached white. What the hell? His pants were white. His boots were white. His cloak¡­ Hey¡­ His cloak had a red cross on the back. It was just like the design he used when he was originally creating his elf character. Somebody¡­ knows me? The previous me? Somebody knows who I was BEFORE? Like my real name and everything? ... And does that someone like the color white THAT much? ¡°Hah¡­¡± I didn¡¯t think much of it at the time, but the cloth that covered me at the church¡­ Wasn¡¯t it was white too? I think I managed to open my eyes a little when I got groped while I was being carried upstairs. That dress that let me cover myself up (as a transvestite though) was also white¡­ My would-be rapist was drinking from a white bottle (which indirectly allowed me to escape)¡­ ¡°Hah¡­ Hah¡­¡± So¡­ could all of this have been the work of that somebody? Perhaps¡­ the god of that church I appeared in? If so, that god has a perverted sense of humor¡­ ¡°Hah hah hah¡­¡± Someone nearby was breathing quite loudly and ruining his train of thought. How rude. Suddenly a guard came screaming as he pelted into the tower. ¡°SIR! LORD BOWEN SIR! THAT ARMY OUTSIDE ALL JUST SUDDENLY COMMITTED SUICIDE!" It started snowing. White snowflakes were falling. Side Chapter: The Ecology of Goblins Here is what is commonly known about goblins: 1. Goblins are short (around 3? feet tall), stout, bestial creatures with shaggy fur and sharp claws on their hands and feet. They don¡¯t wear clothes but do wear armor, which is usually patchwork and shabby. They have yellow eyes hidden in sunken eye-sockets, long ears like a coyote, wide and flat noses, and their mouths have been compared to that of a shark¡¯s, even though they are omnivorous. 2. Goblin tribal society is ruled by the strong, for the strong. Goblins will occasionally raid other villages and even other goblin tribes for slaves, just to make their own lives easier. Also, slaves make for good emergency rations. 3. Goblins are greedy. A reasonably sharp sword owned by one goblin is enough of an excuse for another to try and kill him for it. It is even forgivable if the murder succeeds: ¡°Obviously the victim was weak and stupid. Good. More food for the rest of us.¡± Civil wars are common among goblins tribes. Losers are usually eaten. 4. Goblins are omnivorous to the extreme. Their near-constant hunger due to their explosive breeding potential coupled with their greediness has allowed their species to evolve to the point that goblins rarely suffer from sickness or poison. If it can be eaten, then they¡¯ll eat it. Stuff that would flat-out make a human froth at the mouth and die might give a goblin child indigestion. Maybe. 5. Since their society is ruled by the strongest and meanest, intelligence is not in high demand, unless their learning something helps put food in their mouths. Goblins have enough intelligence for a primitive language and most have learned (painfully) which end of the sword is the sharp bit and which is the grip. 6. Goblins stink to high heaven. Goblins consider bathing about as often as dragons consider the average price of mushrooms on the Seventh Plane of Hell (in other words, not at all). They live in filth, they sleep in filth, they breed in filth, and if hungry enough they¡¯ll even eat that filth as well. 7. Goblins are absolutely sneaky bastards. A fair fight is as alien to them as the sport of baseball is to ants. They¡¯ll attack from behind, from above, from below, using every dirty trick in the book and wielding anything that might cut, tear, impale or explode, but they¡¯ll NEVER attack from the front. If you can smell a goblin, then it¡¯s already too late. 8. Goblins are xenophobic. They hate EVERYTHING that is not goblin. They¡¯ll even hate other goblin tribes for not being THEM enough. They¡¯ll only put aside their distrust if there¡¯s something better to hate, but they¡¯ll still be waiting for a chance to backstab their own brethren. (By an ironic twist of fate, the fact that humans are now living everywhere has caused PEACE to break out among many goblin tribes who had been bitter enemies for hundred of years.) Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. 9. Goblins do not live long lives. A goblin who is too old to get food for himself¡­ IS food, himself. The one exception to the rule is the rare goblin shaman, who serves the chief. Not much is known about them, except that goblins will occasionally raid other tribes to kidnap one of these as well. 10. Most importantly, there¡¯s no such thing as just ONE goblin. Just one tribe of twenty can breed into several hundred in only one year. The standard goblin method of dealing with human settlements is called Ka¡¯Raueth, the ¡°Invisible Wall¡±. Translated (loosely) from the goblin tongue, it goes something like this: ? Don¡¯t let anyone enter the village to help them. Eat them. ? Don¡¯t let anyone leave the village to get help. Eat them. ? Eat their cattle. Eat their grain. Eat their food before they do. ? Torment those who try to keep watch for the village. Look for a chance to eat them. ? Torment those who try to be brave. When they are weak enough, eat them. ? Eventually, the humans will weaken and starve, and won¡¯t be able to prevent themselves from being eaten. ? Eventually they¡¯ll break, and will even welcome being eaten. ? We will win. There are ALWAYS more of us than of them. ? If anything goes wrong, eat what you can, who you can, and move on before a human army can be summoned. Come back next year. Today''s Menu: ? Egg and bacon ? Egg, sausage and bacon. ? Egg and human ? Egg, bacon and human ? Egg, bacon, sausage and human ? Human, bacon, sausage and human ? Human, egg, human, human, bacon and human ? Human, human, human, egg and human ? Human, human, human, human, human, human, baked beans, human, human, human and human ? Lobster Thermidor aux crevettes with a Mornay sauce, garnished with truffle pat¨¦, brandy and a fried egg on top, and human. NO ONE EXPECTS THE HUMAN REPETITION!!!! (Human human human human...) Of CORPSE Its Bad If You Kill Yourself! In the morning, they appeared. Goblins. Bunches of goblins. Hundreds of goblins. They kept appearing. In the afternoon, they had surrounded the entire village. Almost a thousand goblins. And yet¡­ they did nothing. Not one spoke. Not one moved. The river running past the village, making a natural moat, was unimpeded. The walls protecting the village were untouched. Nothing was happening on the east side. Nothing was happening on the west, north or south sides either. Nothing was being dug underneath. Nothing was flying overhead. They just stood there. They weren¡¯t unarmed. They clearly came for a fight. And yet they did nothing. Just¡­ staring¡­ at¡­ the¡­ village. The guards began to mutter ¡®enchantment¡¯ to each other. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kara¡¯Ul, matriarch of the Ratha-Kul (¡°Pointy Kill - Feast¡±) tribe just stood there, surrounded by her family. One of her sons was the war general, Hrar¡¯Ul. Another of her sons was the goblin chieftain himself, Raheh¡¯Ul. To have gathered so much power for themselves, for HER to control¡­ Such good boys. Hrar¡¯Ul wanted to kill Raheh¡¯Ul and sieze the throne himself, but instead he waited. She was the one who told him to do so. So he waited. Such a good boy. Raheh¡¯Ul wanted to kill Hrar¡¯Ul and remove all rivals to the throne, but instead he also waited. Such a good boy. The Ara-Kul (¡°Bite Into - Feast¡±) tribe had just lost their leader and a civil war was imminent. They were always weak, but now they would get even weaker. It was the perfect time to attack, especially during the harshest season of the year. Her two sons can kill each other only AFTER food and slaves have been secured. However, instead she came here. They ALL came. All of the goblin tribes. Come to the human village. Great power can be yours if you just come. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- By three o¡¯ clock they were still moving everything and everyone into the nipplefort. Back then, they were thankful for the delay. Every minute not spent fighting was another life that could be protected and fed. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The pathetic Ara-Kul tribe was to the right of hers, and the hated Bara-Uk (¡°Bash-Rip¡±) tribe was to the left. Nobody talked. Nobody taunted. It wasn¡¯t needed. Great power can be yours if you wait. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- By four o¡¯clock everyone was safe, and now the secondary objectives like clothing and equipment could be moved. Even then, they were thankful. If it turned into a siege and the outer walls fell everyone could still hold out for a possible rescue in relative security. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Her baby kicked from inside her again. It didn¡¯t like the cold weather. Heh. From the kicking she could tell. This child was going to be a girl. Good. Children are a goblin woman¡¯s power. The more children, and by extension the more grandchildren you have, the more opportunities you have. Another girl. Since there was nothing else to do, she began to plan the child¡¯s future. Since she was HER child, she would most likely grow up to be a beauty as well. She would need to learn a lot of things about how to control, handle, and please the men her mother would set up for her. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.Hopefully she will learn how not to get in the way of her older sisters first. If not, well, hopefully she will taste as good as her own mother¡¯s sister did. Great power can be yours if you wait. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- By five o¡¯clock things had turned¡­ somewhat peaceful, or at least as peaceful as can be managed with an army outside your door. By this time the guards were getting paranoid. They began to mutter, ¡°What are they waiting for?¡± -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kara¡¯Ul was frustrated, and hungry. Why are we still waiting? Great power was promised. Goblins can be patient if there¡¯s something to be gained. Many a goblin has lain still in its own feces for hours, days even, waiting for prey. As the sun lowered itself towards the horizon, and the evening started creeping in, there was a new feeling in the air. Great power can be yours if you die. Ah. So that¡¯s why. Raheh¡¯Ul swung his axe, and removed her head from her body. Hrar¡¯Ul drove his spear into her belly, slaying his unborn sister. Even in this, they knew their places and treated her with the respect she deserved as they slew her first. As her head rolled on the ground, it stopped enough for her to see them aiming at each other, timing themselves to strike a mortal blow at the same time. With the final seconds of her life, she could see the respect each had for the other. Both of them, worthy opponents. Such good boys. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- By six o¡¯clock all of the goblins were dead. Unease turned into outright panic. Goblins who had swords¡­ fell on them. Those who had daggers sliced their own necks open. Those who had axes swung at the ones who had clubs, and vice versa. The ones who carried spears placed the butts of their weapons onto the ground¡­ and impaled themselves by simply walking forward onto them. The worst part of it, what made it the most eerie, was that through it all not one goblin screamed. There was almost a thousand goblins¡­ No. In this world where magic is omnipresent and death can come at ANY time from ANY direction, even a single corpse is bad news. There was almost a thousand dead bodies on the ground. Gallons of blood flowed out from their corpses, but instead of just soaking into the earth it¡­ moved. Flowing into a stream. The entire village was literally surrounded by a circle of fresh blood. A circle which began glowing. So... I spent all this time researching goblins and other tribal races, putting together how life is like for them, what they do in their spare time, all sorts of goblin politics... And then I just turned my back on all that and had them all commit suicide. So. Time well spent? (*helpless shrug*) I wonder if something similar happened to this world''s dinosaurs, and the whole meteor thing was just part of a cover-up. Actually... that''s make for a neat short story, wouldn''t it? A Spirited Talk About The Undead As a symbol, the circle signifies infinity. Eternity. Life flowing into death, and death flowing into life. You can¡¯t live without making something else die. You can¡¯t die without first having lived. The circle is forever spinning, like a wheel. To mix blood, the greatest of all symbolic representations of LIFE, and to make it spilled blood, the greatest of all representations of DEATH, into the equation¡­ Well. Symbolically speaking, that¡¯s like throwing a bar into the spokes of a motorcycle. There¡¯s going to be a crash. A nasty one. And the bigger the wheel¡­ -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Although all intelligent species can vary from size, shape, color, and abilities, there is one thing all beings have in common: An inordinate interest in bowel movements. When the dead goblins began to twitch and move again the response from the watching human guards was immediate: ¡°Aw crap, I knew it!¡± When a timer suddenly appeared in his vision, counting down from 10:00 minutes, a certain elf¡¯s response was similar: ¡°Ah, crap¡­¡± When Blake Bowen, owner and lord of Bowen Village, suddenly looked up to see the floating ghost of his deceased friend Farmer Johnday Evans smiling sadly down at him, his response summed up the feelings of everyone in the room: ¡°Oh crap.¡± On the walls, in the towers, and inside the nipplefort everyone said pretty much the same thing. But they weren¡¯t really all that scared yet. Yes, zombies are unnatural, an affront to the laws of men and good and blah blah blah, you¡¯ve probably heard this all before. However, they were just zombies. As an attack force the original goblins would have been MUCH more dangerous to deal with. Goblins are sneaky, underhanded, and practical. Their siege tactics are methodical and long term, and tribes can work with each other if the reward¡¯s great enough. Zombies are dull, slow, and mindless. Their siege tactics are ¡°eat that over there¡± and they have no concept of cooperation. They were also OUTSIDE. It¡¯s an important distinction. No, it wasn¡¯t the zombies that posed a problem to the brave men and women of Bowen Village. They had a much worse problem: The ghosts. They started flickering into existence, confused, angry, sad, hating. Most of them were the ghosts of goblins. But not all of them. ¡°I¡¯d say ¡®boo¡¯ and all tat, but we don¡¯ have te time. Something BIG is being summoned, and whatever it is, you don¡¯ wanna be here when it comes. You hafta leave ta village.¡± Johnday Evans looked around the room at the gaping faces. ¡°Oh come ON! Yeh, yuh surrounded by zombie goblins, and yeh, a bite will make you sicken, die, and come back as anotter zombie, but yuh hav no choice! Raht now tose otter ghosts are confused, but if whoeveh made tem kill temselves controls tem too¡­ Yuh don¡¯ have enough cold iron to fight tem off! An¡¯ when the summoning finishes, you won¡¯ havva chance at all!¡± The room was silent. ¡°Johnday¡­¡± Began Lord Bowen, deeply shaken. ¡°Yeh, Little Blake?¡± The ghost floated closer to him. ¡°Did¡­¡± He swallowed loudly. ¡°Did¡­ Did¡­ being dead screw up your ability to talk?¡± The room was silent¡­ except for a few sniggers. The spirit of Johnday Evans, former farmer of Bowen Village, crossed his arms in a huff. ¡°Hmph. YOU try coming up with a new hobby when you die and can¡¯t touch anything. I never had any kind of singing voice when I was alive either, so it¡¯s not like I could just join the ¡®Choir Invisible¡¯.¡± Everybody in the room began to yell catcalls at the deceased man. The irony that the living was yelling ¡®BOO! BOO!¡¯ at a ghost was sadly lost on the participants. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Heinrich had problems. Fortunately, he was currently free from the jail and now he can go find his sister and get her the hell away from this place. Unfortunately they were both in thrall to a freakish elf-looking boy. Even if they got away the kid might pull out another glowy¡­ lighty¡­ pyramid thing¡­ and then all their running would be useless. Fortunately he¡¯d be MORE than happy to just return all the weapons and armor the little bastard gave him if that was all there was to it. Unfortunately the village was being invaded by ghosts. Fortunately his unnatural weapons worked on them. Hey, an unnatural solution to an unnatural problem, right? Unfortunately the village was also surrounded by zombies, and if the lore still holds, getting bitten by a zombie is NOT good for your long-term health plans. Fortunately there¡¯s a boy who can handwave away any and all wounds as if they never happened. Unfortunately he didn¡¯t know if that prevented a zombie curse. Sigh. Heinrich had problems. At least he was in the nipplefort now. His sister would no doubt be on one of the floors in the tower instead of in the outer rings. A ghost of a pregnant goblin with a gaping hole in its stomach gibbered at him¡­ or, rather, the head it was holding in one hand gibbered at him before trying to claw at his face with the other. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.He didn¡¯t even feel the contact as he sliced it into screaming, mist-like pieces¡­ which all vanished like consumed flash paper. +90 XP He didn¡¯t notice the little signs that kept popping up when he killed something as much anymore. Why didn¡¯t it throw the head? That was his only idle thought about it. Truth be told if anyone had told him a week ago that he would be casually slaughtering ghosts, which needed either a magical sword (good luck finding one of those) or one made of cold iron (pfft, who uses IRON to make swords?) to even have a CHANCE of hitting, he would have asked what you were smoking and quietly led Sheila away from you. He hadn¡¯t noticed yet, but his leveling up was changing him, and his dependence on those ¡°unnatural weapons¡±, and the boy who gave them to him, was growing. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ¡°A-N-Y-W-A-Y-S!¡± Yelled the ghost, floating up into the air so he could (literally) take the high ground. The crowd quieted down. ¡°Anyways, you CAN¡¯T fight the ghosts, you CAN¡¯T fight whatever is coming, but you CAN fight zombies. It¡¯s your only chance.¡± Once more, the crowd was silent. All eyes turned to look at Lord Blake. One word from him, and the exodus would begin. Nobody wanted to think about the likely toll moving that many people into a forced march towards the nearest town (which was weeks away) would have. There would be monsters. Disease. Starvation. Even if they made it safely to one of the bigger cities, they would be treated as refugees. Perhaps even as slave labor. There would be hardships. ... Suddenly a voice spoke up. ¡°I can fight ghosts.¡± In the doorway was a blond man with a scruffy beard. His clothes looked tattered but his leather armor looked unblemished and brand new, tailor-made to fit just him. Lord Bowen frowned. ¡°Who the devil are you?¡± ¡°Devil?¡± The stranger chuckled to himself. I¡¯m in a contract with one. You¡¯ve met him already. Elf boy, kinda short? Teleports people into towns with glowy pyramid things? ¡°The name¡¯s Heinrich Ellis. You should already know my sister Sheila. These weapons can slay ghosts.¡± With that he unsheathed a sword and a dagger made of a strange, silver-like metal. The dagger even had lightning(!) constantly crawling across its blade. Both of them looked almost brand new. ¡°Talk to the kid. He can probably get you more.¡± ¡°Did someone say ¡®WEAPONS¡¯?¡± An elf boy of amazing beauty and pure-white clothes glided elegantly past a flustered Heinrich and entered the room. Without another word he went to the main table, upon which the map of the village was spread, along with a number of spell scrolls, wands, and potions. ¡°Inventory.¡± *Kathunk* *Clunk* *Bam* *Clunk* *Clatter* *Klong* Weapon after weapon appeared from nowhere, piling on top of each other. Bows. Swords. Hammers and maces. Wands. A number of the weapons glowed blue, or white. At least one glowed red. A couple were on fire, yet not consuming the weapon or the table it was lying on. Finally the elf boy turned around. ¡°Now,¡± he began, giving the entire room the most beautiful, cheerful, and saintly smile anyone had ever seen. It was as if the room suddenly got brighter, such was the power of that smile. ¡°Let¡¯s talk BUSINESS.¡± I wish I had enough money to retire. Then I wouldn''t be forced to travel with a guy named Rich who would just explode into half-hour long rants about former co-workers who quit at least FOUR YEARS AGO at the drop of anything resembling a cue: "So Rich, do you prefer classic Trek or Next Gen?" "Ah that B***H Jen! She didn''t know how to do ANYTHING!" "Let it GO, Rich. It''s been--" "I was the one who had to teach how to run the machines, and what did she say? ''I just don''t geeeeet iiiiiiit!'' Dumb broad, I don''t know HOW she got hired in the first--" "Oh for CRYING OUT LOUD, Rich! Do you have to mark--" "MARK! That b******d was just as bad as JEN! Why, I had--" "You know what? I''m going to start wearing headphones while I drive." "That f***ing moron couldn''t tell which side was UP with both hands..." [Continue and repeat until sundown] The worst part of it is, Rich actually wants to quit the company and move to New York. He''s received THREE pay raises already to make him want to stay a bit longer. He may actually stay the entire year now. I HATE real life. You know, one of these days I''m going to have to write a short story about an idiot named Rich who gets devoured by the ghosts of Christmas Past and Present, and pooped out again by Future. I think I''ll call it "A Christm*sshole Carol." "AH, CAROL! THAT B****! That MORON could never tell which ribbon was supposed to be RED and which one was supposed to be GREEN!" If it gets turned into a movie it''ll run for at least eight hours. Bring a diaper. Fellowship Near Some Rings Since it''s been a while since I''ve last written something, expect the chapters to be a bit clunkier than usual while I try to get back into some kind of groove. Also, to get you back up to speed here''s a cast of characters: Healz Pleaze (aka ''Medic''): MMO elf character of a deceased human sent to a completely different RPG world than even the game he was playing. So adorably cute his chastity has been in danger from day one. Hates his name and wishes everyone would call him by his class name instead. His ears are erogenous zones. Classes: Cleric / Alchemist (dual class name: Medic) Sister Teresa Gedder: Follower of the Goddess Ilya, and the main personality of her body. A naturally sweet woman, half of her body is covered in burn scars and she only has one eye. Deeply in love with Mike Evans. Class: Cleric. Cynthia Gedder: Once Teresa''s eldest sister, her spirit now lives inside Teresa''s body. A tomboy who likes fighting and alcohol. Ambivalent about Mike Evans. Hates thieves. Class: Monk. Joan Gedder: Once Teresa''s elder sister, her spirit now lives inside Teresa''s body. Obsessed with fighting evil in all forms, she has a crush on Healz Pleaze for being the only one who wasn''t repulsed by Teresa''s scarred body. Despises Mike Evans. Class: Paladin. Mike Evans: A playboy who has made Teresa his latest conquest. Has become extremely confused about his sexuality after meeting Healz Pleaze. Thanks to a certain incident everyone thinks he also goes after little boys. Class: Fighter. Sheila Ellis: A poor girl who has been swept up in recent events. Although able to hold her own in a fight, since since officially joining Medic''s ''Party'', leveling up has overwhelmed her mind and traumatized her. Class: Magician. Heinrich Ellis: Sheila''s brother who has sworn to keep her out of danger. Joining Medic''s party has NOT helped things in the short term even though her life has been saved multiple times. Hates Medic and considers him a devil who has enslaved both him and his sister when they joined this thing called a ''Party''. Class: Ranger. Lord Blake Bowen: The lord of Bowen village. Has a deep sexy voice that makes everyone just automatically want to follow him. Class: Lord. Farmer Johnday: Once a commoner, now quite dead. Used to be one of Lord Bowen''s best friends and was known for his sense of humor and loud voice. Class: Ghost. Daniel Bowen: Bowen village''s antisocial treasurer, and secretly a porn author with the pen name ''Daniel Bowen''. Has sworn vengeance against Medic for humiliating him... twice! Is currently writing volume one of The Humiliations of a Wandering Elf Princess, in which the main character bears more than a passing resemblance to someone he might know... Class: Aristocrat. Robin Evans: A very large-breasted woman who runs the General Store and is infamous as the Town Gossip. Teresa''s best friend who STRONGLY lusts after Medic and wants very much to dress him up in goth loli fashion. Class: Commoner. Fellowship Near Some Rings ¡°If you offer the world, they will build stars.¡± This is an elven expression that¡­ Um¡­ Well¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­.. Elves are notoriously difficult to understand. The more crude, much more human version of this saying is: ¡°When you have them by the balls, their hearts and minds will follow.¡± A beautiful elf boy smiled at the room, and everyone stared back with differing expressions. For his part, Healz Pleaze had a very happy smile. Two weeks of being hated, lusted for, touched, groped, manhandled, and stared at like a panda at a zoo. Healz Pleaze had a very cathartic smile. He had them over a barrel, and he knew it. Everyone knew it. There was also the little matter of a prophecy by a freaking GODDESS, and the fact that he fulfilled two of the requirements. As an elf and as someone who walked the whole damn thing in these last two weeks, he knew the forest. As an MMO character with a map and a quest marker, he knew exactly where to go. Also, as someone who had a countdown timer ticking away in his vision, he also knew exactly how long they had until the end. Healz Pleaze had a very blissful smile. No pressure. Take your time, guys. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Close to a thousand goblin zombies shuffled outside the human village. Almost the same amount of ghosts flittered and wafted above it. But something unusual was happening. The front gates were opening. At the same time a number of small objects were thrown from above. Fun Fact #1: Alchemical Grenades are a useful weapon in Legendary Tales Online, doing a flat 10 points of damage with a 1¡¯ radius at level 1. Fun Fact #2: Alchemical Grenades are not NEARLY as useful in actual fantasy worlds. Throwing loud noise-makers around zombies is not conducive to a long life, especially since they are attracted to sounds. *BOOM!* *BOOM!* Fun Fact #3: Goblins, and goblin zombies in particular, do NOT tend to have more than 10 hit points of life. The area around the gate was quickly emptied of unlife. A small group of people ran out, just barely avoiding getting caught in the gate slamming shut behind them. The glowing blood surrounding the village had split into two circles, one wider than the other, and crimson runes were forming on the ground between the two. ¡°Can I hit it?¡± asked Heinrich Ellis. His flowing blond hair moved a bit as he drew his very special long sword. His leather armor looked brand new and somehow... sturdier¡­ than you would expect. More than that, it seemed tailored to fit his body absolutely perfectly. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Sister Teresa quickly put her arm in the way of his sword swing. In addition to her regular platemail (which was missing a helmet, gloves, and leggings), she wore a strange belt with multiple leather pouches sewn onto it. When asked about it she just replied it was something her deceased elder sister wore once, and somehow it made her feel safer. The metal from her armor softly scraped against her ordinary round wooden shield. The most odd thing was that her usual mace had been replaced with one that constantly burned with a red fire. ¡°She¡¯s right.¡± Sheila affirmed, still shaking a bit. ¡°It¡¯s a summoning circle. If you touched it your life would just be added to the spell.¡± Although she wore a standard gray blouse and brown pants, even a casual glance at her would tell any thief she was someone worth stealing from. Her magic staff, her rings, her amulet, all screamed ¡®expensive magic items¡¯. The aura of power emitting from her would make all but the most confident think twice though. Her eyes were haunted, and wouldn''t focus properly. Occasionally her hands trembled as well. The party of six carefully stepped over the glowing lines of blood. ¡°Summoning what though?¡± Asked Mike Evans. Everyone was surprised to hear him volunteer, but he quickly explained that it was to protect his ¡®dearest love Teresa¡¯. For some strange reason all he got was a bow. It still glowed with a soft white light though. ¡°Something BAD, obviously. I can feel it. Whatever it is, it¡¯s BIG, and it wants IN. Won¡¯t be long now.¡± Farmer Johnday somehow looked even more pale, which is unusual considering he has been dead for more than 15 days and was currently a spirit. Healz Pleaze double-checked his map and the countdown timer at the bottom of his vision. ¡°Six minutes. This way.¡± So saying, the elf boy swiftly ran ahead, his bright white clothes, and the red cross on his cloaked back beckoned them away from the doors, and into the forest. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Meanwhile, inside the village¡­ Fun Fact #4: No MMO player would stand for his favorite character¡¯s favorite legendary sword of epicness going ¡®whiff¡¯ at a monster, so all monsters in Legendary Tales Online hit can be hit by any weapon, with only the type of weapon (blunt, piercing, edged, etc.) being the base modifier for the amount of damage taken before stats and skills become involved. Weapons were swung. There was a sudden reduction in the number of ghosts in the air. Fun Fact #5: Any weapon from Legendary Tales Online can therefore deal damage to ANY monster from this world as well. Arrows flew. There was a similar reduction in the amount of zombies wandering around outside. Morale amongst the guards and the population they were protecting soared. Talks had ended remarkably quickly. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ¡°Pour,¡± he commanded. The skeleton SLOWLY filled his cup. It had taken forever to teach it to do just that. The slave would have done a better job, but it was currently busy outside. Only one slave. How far he had fallen. He giggled, and a little saliva dribbled from his mouth. He had ¡®fallen¡¯ when he had been forced to go up. He took a sip. A bit hasty to be drinking again from the ever-dwindling ¡®victory stash¡¯, but his throat needed something wet. Mind-controlling almost a thousand goblins and casting multiple spells in one day makes one thirsty, after all. Too bad he couldn¡¯t pour the wine over his head as well. Winters are so DRY! His skin was itching and cracking like mud that had been left next to an oven. Quite unpleasant. More moisture needed. Always more moisture needed. The door to the room opened, and a bald dwarf stumbled in past the armed skeleton guards with unfocused eyes, carrying two buckets of ice. Immediately the colder air from outside the room wafted in and assailed him. He stuck his tentacles into his mouth, sucking on them to keep them wet and warm. Even after the door closed again he kept his hands under his armpits, waiting while the dwarf shuffled its way to the cauldron and *bash* *bash*, emptied both buckets into it. A primitive humidifier. Seriously, how far he has fallen to have to use physical labor like this. The fire was dying. A pile of ornate-but-ruined sticks lay nearby, but no, even without any charges left burning magic wands is a terrible idea. The dwarf clumsily tossed a couple more wooden logs onto it. He¡¯ll have to send it out to chop more trees soon. More wasted time. Damn. The fire died, overwhelmed by the very thing it should be burning instead. He was inexperienced in the ways of tending a fire. Damn damn. He never had to worry about heat and moisture in the Underdark. Damn damn damn. Well, no help for it. He had a schedule to keep, and a few more spells to cast. It was the home stretch, so the wine was just a little early, is all. He picked up the cup again and gulped it down. Wasteful, but good wine should be enjoyed while its still warm. He flicked a thought. The dwarf yanked out the last of its beard. It made a strange, sobbing sound as it did so, and its mind struggled a bit again, but not for long. Tears dripped from its eyes, but it still used its hair as kindling, bashing the flint and iron pyrite together from its tinderbox to make sparks fly. Tomorrow he will have to use up the dwarf¡¯s mustache. It would take a full two minutes before the heat built up enough to begin casting again. He really needed more slaves. If only some more were to conveniently walk in¡­ He giggled again at the thought, but this time the giggling turned into coughing and hacking as liquid went down the wrong pipe. Threesomes Dont Work (if the third isnt invited) ¡°In Ilya¡¯s name I command you! Turn away and BEGONE!¡± Three goblin zombies turned and fled back towards the village. ¡°[Holy Light]¡± The last of the zombies that had been chasing them fell down, like a puppet that had its strings cut. He stared at her again. He had been doing so since they had left the village. Same body, but wrong voice. Same scars¡­ But no ¡®feel-good¡¯ aura. Wrong. What is she? ¡°[Select. Examine.]¡± ¡°What?¡± Asked Sister Teresa. She was used to being stared at because of her ruined face and body, but being muttered at in a different language as well unnerved her.
Teresa Gedder Level 4 Cleric Human Female Strength: 14 Dexterity: 10 (12) Constitution: 12 Intelligence: 12 Wisdom: 16 Charisma: 8 (12) Hit Points: 35 / 35 Experience Points: 37,557 (75,000) Armor: Plate Mail (partial), Wooden Shield Weapons: Mace of Flames, Bronze Dagger, Dagger Items: Holy Symbol, Thief''s Utility Belt Money: G: 1 S: 0 B: 0 Level 1 Cleric Spells: Light (used) Resist Elements (used) Cure Light Wounds Level 2 Cleric Spells: Barkskin (used) Silence, 15¡¯ Radius Scarred Body: -4 to Charisma, -2 to Dexterity
It¡¯s NOT her. He turned and leapt nimbly over a fallen tree trunk. His eyes were focused on his Map, but his mind was still on the woman behind him. Who is she? A twin? ¡°Wait, what was that you said?¡± Mike demanded. It would seem that the situation was going to be forced. Good thing there isn¡¯t A COUNTDOWN ticking down to zero¡­ Sighing, he turned back to her and pointed. ¡°You. Not right. Wrong.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Mike yelled. No matter how he felt about the kid, NOBODY makes fun of his girlfriend¡¯s face but him! ¡°Mike!¡± Teresa almost screamed as she placed her body between the two males. ¡°We only just escaped the zombies, and we¡¯re in a forest filled with monsters at night. Keep it down!¡± Mike backed down, but continued to glower at the elf boy. ¡°Um, look. Umm¡­¡± Teresa lost her train of thought. ¡°Medic.¡± Teresa unconsciously touched the mask that covered the ruined side of her face. ¡°Okay, um, Mr. Medic, I know I don¡¯t look normal, but I assure you I AM a human and a disciple of the Goddess--¡± The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.¡°Wrong.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°You. Same face, same body, but you Teresa, not Joan. You cleric, not paladin. You wrong.¡± Good grief, how EASY it is to slip back to Tarzan speech at Language Comprehension (Common) level 2! ¡­I REALLY should max that damn skill out sometime soon. ¡°Joan? Joan who?¡± ¡°What?¡± Asked a confused Medic. ¡°What?¡± Asked a surprised Mike. ¡°What?¡± Asked a shocked Farmer Johnday¡¯s ghost. ¡°What?¡± Asked a completely confused Teresa. A lonely brown leaf blew past¡­ For some reason the strong image of a tumbleweed rolling through a desert entered into a certain elf boy¡¯s mind¡­ ¡°Umm¡­ Teresa¡­ sweetie¡­¡± Mike began. ¡°What? Why are you calling me ¡®sweetie¡¯?¡± ¡°Do you¡­¡± He swallowed, loudly. ¡°Do you remember your sisters?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Your sisters. When you were growing up.¡± ¡°Huh? Of course I do! I pray for the souls of my family everyday!¡± ¡°Ah.¡± ¡°What, already?!¡± ¡°Your sisters, uh¡­ they¡¯re¡­ they¡¯re not¡­ gone.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.. What?¡± ¡°They¡¯re in YOU.¡± ¡°¡­¡­..¡­.. What?¡± ¡°You know all that¡­ ¡®sleepwalking¡¯ you¡¯ve been worried about?¡± ¡°¡­Yes?¡± ¡°Well, it wasn¡¯t sleepwalking. It was them. They come out when you sleep.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°You know all those times you woke up sick with a massive headache? That was Cynthia. She likes to drink.¡± ¡°Drink?¡± ¡°And all those times you woke up and your entire body felt sore? That was Joan exercising and combat training all night.¡± ¡°So¡­¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Mike nodded. ¡°All this time¡­¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°It was my sisters?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°They¡¯re alive¡­ in me?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The ghost of Farmer Johnday floated in front of her and spoke gently, hovering but not touching an intangible hand on her shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ve seen it myself, child. I¡¯ve lost more than one arm-wrestling match to Cynthia, and had my ear damn near yanked off by Joan everytime she pulled me away from the porn-- *cough cough* the war stories section of Lord Bowen¡¯s library. They ARE alive, and inside you.¡± ¡°They¡­ They¡¯re alive¡­ Those two¡­¡± Tears filled Teresa eyes. ¡°Those two¡­¡± Her body started shaking as she sobbed. ¡°Those two BASTARDS!¡± ¡°What?¡± Asked Mike. ¡°What?¡± Asked Farmer Johnday. ¡°Aaaaand here we go again...¡± Muttered Heinrich. ¡°All this TIME! All these YEARS! What, were they too busy to say ¡®Hi! Sorry about the whole family dying and all but we''re here with you, so sleep tight!¡¯ Not even a letter?! I¡¯m ONLY their own flesh and blood!!!¡± ¡°Well, they thought¡­¡± ¡°WHERE ARE YOU??? YOU COME OUT RIGHT NOW AND¡ª¡± It was at this time more zombies came stumbling in to attack, attracted by the noise. I have to confess, I started writing again due to a combination of schadenfreude and indignation: Many other, better written stories (Don''t Fear The Reaper, for example) have stalled out just as mine did. It''s an odd, dark feeling to be in the same situation as them. Sort of like comradery. Hey, they''re stalled out too! We''re like brothers! But if I start writing again, then aren''t I BETTER than them? It doesn''t matter if their stories ARE better than mine if they never finish them! And WAY too many, much cheesier stories than mine (I''m looking at YOU, Death March and Jikuu Mahou) are past volume 15 and STILL GOING. The hell? I''m losing to THIS crap??? I can do better than that! I''ve DONE better than that! I have to start writing again! ... But not to 15+ volumes. I''m not a masochist.