Akillia's Reign (Puatera Online Book 4)

by Dawn Chapman

  “These are your starting races, as you can see. You might’ve also noticed that each has a set of starting stats. If not, simply look at one of the dummies to see its stats.” He paused to look at me. “Before you rush in and pick a dummy to become, let me explain the stats.”

  Sarcastic sonofabitch.

  “Every character in Puatera has three Aspects and six Aptitudes. The Aspects are what you are, and the Aptitudes are what you can do. Every trait a person has is categorised as Body, Mind, or Soul, and any activity a person may engage in can be slotted into one of six categories: Combat, Diplomacy, Endurance, Faith, Logic, and Subterfuge. While the Aspects are self-explanatory, I’ll indulge with an explanation of the Aptitudes.

  “Combat is exactly what it says on the tin. An attempt to hurt, deface, and otherwise, destroy another object, living or non. Kick it with a shoe, punch it with a fist, swing a spiky thing at it, or stab it with a pointy thing. Combat is the art of pain.”

  I may have been imagining it, but the Tutorial God seemed to relish saying that last bit. He seemed to be warming up to the material. Or maybe I was just getting used to his tone enough to start hearing subtle variances. I wondered then if everyone would experience this level of sarcasm or was this just for me because I know nothing about playing games.

  “Diplomacy covers every interaction you may have with another living thing. Yes, even the cute and fluffy whittle animals and orcs. Although, to orcs, this category can be wrapped up into the previous one.”

  No, I wasn’t imagining it. This is the part of the show where the news anchor loses his shit and starts riffing. I needed to hear all this, but my brain would get bored and not understand anyway.

  “Endurance is the opposite of Combat. Instead of dealing pain, you are taking it. And if you can’t take what you dish out, why are you playing this game? Running, jumping, swimming, feats of strength or just drinking until you pass out. If you need to grind and bear it, it goes here. You want to pay attention to this Aptitude. Pain hurts.”

  Does it now? You don’t say. A moment later, I thought better of my snarkiness. Despite the colour commentary, everything in the tutorial so far was deliberately written. Maybe pain really did hurt in this virtual world. I did have to sign that responsibility waiver after all. It was a very sobering thought.

  “Faith does not refer to religion. Puatera is a fictional world with fictional religions and, in no way, forces any religion, real or otherwise, on its players. Faith is a belief in something. A god, yourself, other people, a pony. Faith doesn’t care what you believe in, only that you believe.”

  If I believe I can fly, can I really fly?

  “Logic is a measure of a man’s mental makeup. Knowledge can be acquired by the smart and stupid alike. What separates the two is how the knowledge is applied. That is what Logic is for.”

  Not that I needed logic to figure that out.

  “The name Subterfuge, much like its category, is misleading. Yes, this is the sneaky skillset for those would-be thieves. However, lying and cheating fall under Diplomacy, leaving only stealing. Purely mental manipulation goes to the previous category. Except when dealing with orcs. Anything that requires dexterous skill, like hiding and sneaking and picking locks, belongs here. Walking a tightrope. Tumbling and prancing. Singing and dancing. If you have to manipulate your body to manipulate their perceptions, Subterfuge is the Aptitude for you.”

  Now that was interesting. Subterfuge wasn’t just the literal definition of the term. It was more in line with what Agility and Dexterity were in the older, traditional games. Only now, it seemed to have Charisma and maybe some Strength-based stuff mixed in, too. I was beginning to see this system might be a lot more fluid in the way it was organised.

  “If your Subterfuge is high enough, you may already have noticed each race begins with different stats. Look them over, then go ahead, and pick the one you like by patting it on the head. Saying ‘nice doggy’ is optional.”

  I groaned. He was much more than an asshat.

  The races were pretty common from what I’d seen on TV shows. I think Andy had made me sit and watch some of the older animation movies from earlier online games people played. Human, Elf, Dwarf, some halfling-type race called a Dovra, a really tall humanoid labelled Gregon. The markings on the mannequin seemed to indicate the Gregon was a scaly, possibly lizard-like race, but I didn’t see a tail. There was a sixth mannequin labelled Half-Elf Surprise Me, but the stats were blank. I touched its head, and the damn thing spoke. “Touch any two races.” So this was their answer to choosing a half race. Instead of just a dumb watered-down elf, you could mix up any two races. That was pretty cool.

  I walked the line some more. Upon touching the Gregon mannequin’s forehead, all the mannequins melted back into the floor. But then, I shook my head. I didn’t like the look of the character, so I de-selected it and the mannequins re-appeared.

  The more I looked them over, the more confused I became. I had no idea what I should pick. In the end, I went back to the Elf Surprise Me because I liked the basic stats and the look of her.

  “I want her,” I said. I touched the mannequin and felt a rushing sensation. When I looked down at myself, I suddenly had a flesh-and-blood body. A very naked one. But a lithe one. I liked this. I stretched my arms out before me, noting the tattooed design that snaked down them. I’d also never had a tattoo before. It was a good choice for sure.

  “Oh dear! We can’t have you drop into society like that. Better put on some clothes.” A rectangle of air actually opened up like a door, revealing the interior of a walk-in closet. I take back my earlier thoughts about not wasting resources on the tutorial. So far, the special effects had been extremely clever.

  The clothes inside were all variations of medieval peasant garb, so I grabbed garments more or less at random. Oddly enough, the underwear was somewhat modern with elastic. It was all comfortable, too. I did take a moment to marvel at how the cloth felt against my skin. I wondered if taste and smell were just as vivid.

  After stepping back, the door of air closed and the closet disappeared.

  “Now that you’re suitable, let’s get to the fun stuff. You may have noticed a menu item labelled Actions. Go ahead and say the command for it. Say Actions Screen.”

  I clicked my tongue and said the phrase. Another ethereal screen opened in the centre of my vision but was blank. Rather, it had six tabs, each labelled for one of the Aptitudes, but the body of the screen was empty.

  “You can touch each tab to cycle through them or say its name as a command prompt. The game is smart with its dynamic command system, so it will usually recognise what you want to do based on the situation. When you have a screen called up, you can use the various tab names and subtitles as commands. They will only work as long as the screen is active, so don’t worry about giving a command and accidentally calling up a system screen in the heat of battle.”

  I poked my finger at the screen, and it slipped through. The screens were without substance, which I supposed was on purpose so they wouldn’t inhibit gestures or movements. Then I poked my finger through each tab, in turn, confirming that each tab was completely blank.

  “Nothing to see here, carry on,” said the Tutorial God. “You can close any screen with a swipe of your hand.”

  I swiped my hand through the screen as if batting it away. It actually did bat away as it faded. I laughed, surprised.

  “Everything you do in this game,” Tutorial God continued, “is an action. Forget your stats. The core of the game is the action system. Your stats determine how well you do at them. There are many actions to discover in numerous ways. For example, take a step.”

  I furrowed my brow and did so. A gentle ping sounded, and a cheery androgynous voice said, “You discovered the action Walking!”

  “What? Walking is a skill?”

  “No, an action. Everything is an action. Try jumping,” said the God of Tutorials.

  I did and got the ping again. The other voice s
aid, “You discovered the action Jumping!”

  I shook my head and laughed. Ping! “You discovered the action Laughing!” This only made me laugh harder. I started laughing so hard that I started coughing. I took a deep breath to steady myself. Ping! “You discovered the action Recovery!” Ping! “You discovered the action Breathing!” And that was it. I was off again, sliding into hysterics. It took a few minutes to calm down, hands on my knees, breathing hard. This game was going to take a bit of getting used to. I was sure it wouldn’t be the last time I’d bust out laughing at this craziness.

  “Now you’ve had a bit of fun, take another look at your Actions Screen,” Tutorial God suggested.

  I clicked and called it up. Now a few of the tabs had a little starburst by them, indicating a change. Combat seemed to be the default since it was first in alphabetical order and there was Jumping in dim green letters with a number five next to it. Jumping was a combat action? That was weird, but as the Subterfuge description hinted, this game ordered its world a bit differently. I suppose I’d find out in time why it was in that particular tab. I quickly went through the other tabs and saw Laughing in Diplomacy (what?), Breathing and Recovery in Endurance (at least that made sense), and Walking in Subterfuge. I think I understood the last one. Walking under difficult conditions required a bit of balance, as anyone staggering home from the bar would attest. Underneath each action were boxes with six-sided dice in them, and I wrinkled my brow again.

  “Those dice you see are a representation of how good you are at a particular action. The number of dice is determined by the level of the governing Aptitude.” Dwarves had a level three Endurance and a level one everything else. I touched the Diplomacy tab to see one die-filled box under Laughing. It was also in dim green letters and had a one next to it. “Touch the action’s name to call up a description.” I stabbed Laughing and a small inset window faded into view with the description: “A pure expression of one’s feelings, laughter can be used to express a variety of emotions. Laughter is contagious. It is also said to be the best medicine.” Okay, then. The window faded when I removed my finger.

  “Everything you want to do is considered a challenge,” T.G. continued, “and has an associated challenge number. To drop the illusion briefly, when you perform an action, a check is made by rolling the dice. If the roll equals or exceeds the challenge number, you succeed. Although some challenges require a roll to be lower than.”

  “So, the chaos engine is built to call several numbers and add them together to represent weighted odds?” I’d heard this game was dice-based. For some reason, I liked this representation better than just a percentile number. There was something quaint about it.

  “If you want to get technical, yes,” the tutorial responded.

  That startled me. I thought it was just an automatic presentation.

  “Wait, are you a real person, from customer service, or a game master or something?”

  “No. I am a limited artificial intelligence designed to show you the ropes, so to speak. Now, if we can please move on, I have a schedule to keep.” Not only sarcastic but also touchy. I was about to respond, but the artificial intelligence did indeed move on.

  “There are three types of actions,” it continued. “Active actions, Passive actions, and Reactive actions. Actives are displayed in green, passives in blue, and reactives in red. Active actions are those you have to manually begin, either naturally, such as running and laughing, or through a special gesture and/or command phrase, such as casting a spell. Passive actions are ones invoked automatically, usually over a period of time, like Breathing.”

  “Wait a minute,” I cut in. “You mean there’s a check made every time I take a breath?” That was a little ridiculous.

  “No,” the Tutorial A.I. said in a remarkably droll tone. “That would be ridiculous. The amount of processing that would consume would slow everything to a crawl. Checks are only made in abnormal circumstances. In the case of Breathing, it might be in a smoky room or if you’re trying to hold your breath.” Not breathing counts under Breathing? That was another hint things might be more fluid than they appear.

  “Reactive actions,” it went on, actually sounding a little annoyed, “are also automatic checks, but they only happen once or when certain conditions are triggered.”

  “Wait, if Breathing is invoked when I’m actively holding my breath, wouldn’t it make it an Active action?” I was genuinely trying to figure out the logic behind this crazy system here. I wasn’t trying to be a smartass or anything.

  The A.I. actually sighed. “Look at Breathing in the Endurance tab.” Now it sounded like he was giving up on me.

  I stabbed the Endurance tab, and Breathing and Recovery showed up. Recovery was in dim red letters, and Breathing… “Oh,” I said. Breathing was two-toned. The top half of the word was in blue, but the bottom half was green. It was also dim, and both actions had a two next to them.

  Chapter 5

  Before you ask any more questions,” the A.I. said, sounding both resigned and annoyed, “the number you are indubitably wondering about is colloquially known as the Learning Curve.” I took the hint and just let it explain things to me. “When you discover an action, it is unlearned. To put it in descriptive terms, when you just start doing something, like riding a bike, you’re going to fail. Repeatedly. Eventually, you get better and learn it well enough to do it on a regular basis. That is what the Learning Curve is for. Every player gets a special hybrid skill called Learning.”

  I opened my mouth and almost asked what it meant by “hybrid,” but I thought better of fuelling the Tutorial God’s wrath and waited.

  “It is governed by both Faith and Logic, and it will combine the two Aptitudes to form its dice pool. You will find it in both the Faith and the Logic tabs, but it is the same action, not two separate ones. It is also the only action in the game automatically learned. While it would be fun to put a Learning Curve on the Learning action and watch players fumble about for their first few hours, the Powers decided that it would not be fun for the players. I personally would have found it hilarious.”

  I had no doubt the grouchy, sarcastic tutorial A.I. would love seeing the players suffer. It made me a little nervous about whether part of the tutorial was learning how to fight. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it. I might have been fit, but not fit enough for those sorts of skills. I was a number cruncher, a lover of animals and all life—I didn’t want to hurt anyone.

  “Try jumping again, please.”

  Wanting to get the Tutorial God back in a good mood, I refrained from asking how high and just jumped.

  Ping! “You have learned the action Learning.”

  The Actions Screen was still open, so I clicked and said, “Logic,” and there it was. Learning—in bright red letters.

  “Every time you perform an unlearned action,” said the Tutorial God, back in rhythm again, “a Learning check is made. If it succeeds, the action becomes learned, and the Learning Curve goes away. If it does not succeed, the value of the Learning Curve is subtracted from your challenge roll, and then it goes down by one, making it easier and easier through practice.”

  I raised my hand. “Can I ask how the Learning Curve is determined?”

  “You can, and I will assume you just did.” Now it was mocking me. “The actual formula is a bit complex, but it takes your race and related Aspect into account, amongst other things. So, to answer the follow-up, the Learning Curves will be different for each player. Not everyone will learn the same thing at the same rate. It would be harder for some, easier for others. Which segues nicely into the next topic, so I should probably thank you. But I won’t.

  “Out in your world, everyone is not equally good at everything. Such is the case here. What fun would that be? We are all the better at some things than we are others, right? This is due to our Abilities.” The way it said the word made me picture it capitalised. “Abilities are special skills that modify actions. Start running really fast, would you? Just
take off like you were in a race.”

  I set myself in a runner’s stance and pushed off, harking back to my track days in high school.

  Ping! “You have discovered the action Running!”

  Ping! “You have discovered the Ability Natural Sprinter.”

  I promptly tripped and fell on my face.

  Ping! “You have discovered the Advantage Thick Skin.”

  “Oh! I thought I hadn’t turned on Advantages yet.” The A.I. sounded sheepish. “Well, that will make the next section easier.”

  I got up and brushed myself off on reflex, even though the cold grey floor had no dirt or dust to brush off. The Actions Screen was still floating in front of me. While I could see through it, it would still be a hassle if I had to close it manually every time. Hopefully, there was something in the settings to help with that.

  “If you’ll go to the Endurance tab…” the Tutorial God suggested.

  I clicked and said, “Endurance,” and the screen changed tabs. Running was now in the tab under Recovery in dim green letters. There was a four next to it.

  “Now select Running.”

  I poked the action’s name, and this time, a drop-down appeared with Natural Sprinter in it. That name was in dim yellow letters with a five next to it. Underneath the name was one die box with an eight-sided die in it.

  “Much like Actions, Abilities begin unlearned and also have Learning Curves. Even though Running is still unlearned, you can apply Abilities to it. Take the eight-sided die from Natural Sprinter and put it in one of the Running boxes.”

  “Take it?” I made like I was plucking the die out of the box as if it were real, and it came out of the box—as if it were real. Because it was real. Sort of. I could feel the die between my fingers, but it was still transparent and shimmery like the rest of the screen. I almost dropped it in surprise. I stuck it into the left-most box under Running, and it seemed to absorb the six-sided die already there.