by Charles Dean
“What?! I’m not through with you! Don’t just ignore me!” Lee shouted at the giant mug of beer. “If you’re not going to answer me, then the least you could do is send me home!”
“Dear Lord,” the mouse piped as it popped back up. “Or dear me, depending on who you used to worship. Do you ever shut up?”
“I’ll shut up if you just explain what’s going on and why you brought me here!” Lee huffed.
“Well, I brought you here, to this coliseum specifically, to see if you were worth keeping alive,” the mouse squeaked. “What’s going on is that I am a god, I’m about to forcibly inject you into War of Eternity, and you’re going to do what I want if you ever want to go home and see that loving family of yours or those two sad friends you spend Friday night playing video games with. That’s not a threat. Well, I mean, it is, but it’s also a promise. Do you understand?”
“You’re kidnapping me, and I have to do what you say in order to go home. Is that about the sum of it?” Lee spat, his anger boiling over the top. He was about as close to lashing out and stomping on an animal as he had ever been in his entire life, but he somehow knew that it was a horrible idea. Even if he was successful, it would mean that he was just stuck wherever he was without a way home.
“Yeah, that sums it up.”
“Well, if you’re a god, then why do you need me to help you out?” Lee asked indignantly.
“You want to know why? You want to know why?!” the mouse roared out in tiny squeaks as he crawled out of the cup, looking rather menacing as his body transformed back into a bear without causing a single pause in the conversation. “Because, thanks to War of Eternity, I’m almost out of followers! Every, single, stupid teenager gave up on the real world! All they do is spend their days playing games instead of going to church! They forsook me for those stupid games! You know, I barely have even six or seven churches left. And they’re completely occupied by skeletons!”
“That’s . . .” Lee wanted to sympathize, but the god didn’t even give him a single moment to speak.
“The youngest member to show up to church in the last year was a hundred and ninety-two! The oldest member sleeps in a coffin just to make the job easier for the undertaker.” The bear’s voice grew louder and louder as it lumbered closer to Lee. “That’s how bad it is! And that’s for me! The god of freaking alcohol and crafts! I am the god that made their drinks delicious and their hands skillful, and yet they all forgot me! That’s why!”
The bear growled, a low rumbling noise that sounded of irritation and annoyance. “You don’t get it, do you? Of course not. You’re too stupid to possibly understand. People used to worship me. They attended church and services because they knew what was good for them. Oh, of course they thought it was just another form of entertainment, but they have forgotten all about that now. The play their little games, and they pass their time on the Internet sharing every facet their lives with strangers, but they never stop to say a word of praise or thanks anymore.”
“Uhh . . .” Lee took a step back from the bear, suddenly uncomfortable with how close he had become.
“Let me spell this out simply,” the bear growled. He pawed at the ground once, tearing up a large chunk of red dirt, and the alcohol-filled mug appeared in its place. The bear plunged his snout into the cup and raised his head, guzzling the contents down its throat. “When people’s lives are good, they forget the gods. They have no use for a god in their lives. They think they are responsible for their own fortunes, so they stop bothering to even believe.”
“So . . .” Lee still didn’t understand how he fit into any of this, or how it was his problem. Whatever problems this god was having were his own, not Lee’s. But the bear continued his tirade over him before he could get more than a single word out.
“So, you’ll do what I say, or you’ll never see the light of your Earth again,” the bear shouted. “And if you ask me too many stupid, annoying, inane and asinine questions, I’m going to bring you back here from wherever you are in the game and then leave you here to rot with zombie Brian until your corpse and his are indistinguishable.”
“Fine. I get it. I’ll do what you say,” Lee answered exasperatedly. “Just tell me what you need already so that I can go home.” Lee had a dozen more questions, but the god’s angry tone made it clear that he wasn’t going to put up with any more of them.
“I thought I already did? Don’t you understand? I need followers! In fact, that’s your first mission. You need to go out into the world and convert one person, any person, to be a follower of mine. Do this, and I’ll let you know what I need of you next. Heck, I might even send you home for a day or two if you get me a good enough believer—preferably a really hot woman.”
Lee’s jaw dropped at the last line. He’s a lecher, too?! “So, any believer? An NPC believer counts for you?”
“Yep.” The bear patted himself on the chest proudly with a massive clawed paw. “I think I’m the first god to really figure it out. The way War of Eternity is designed, even though it’s sometimes questionable as to whether or not NPCs would pass a good Turing test, they count as beings and add up to a god’s faith marker,” he said, lips curling back into a sly smile.
“And that’s why you’re kidnapping people, forcing them to fight to the death and then throwing them into War of Eternity?” Lee asked the bear.
“Look, I’m tired of the questions, and the loading process is about to be done, so I suggest you take a drink of this.” The bear tossed him a small wooden keg, the barrel of which was as large as Lee’s chest, and he stumbled backward a few steps under the load as he caught the heavy container. “And get ready for War of Eternity because this conversation is done as far as I’m concerned. Have fun, and don’t die!”
The god took another swig of his beer and was just about to leave when Lee thought of something important he had forgotten. “Wait!”
“What is it now?”
“Your name! What’s your name? How do I convert people to you?” Lee asked in a panic, still holding onto the keg.
“Oh, yeah! Wait, crud, I forgot that with the last guy. With so few followers, my memory is already fading. Looks like I have to make a trip, but here you go. You remember how to access your inventory, right?”
You have received the Book of Augustus, holy text of the God of Alcohol and Crafts.
He noticed that the book took up only one space as he opened his inventory, but the weight marker next to it read out 11 lbs. That was well over twice the weight of any previous textbook he had owned in high school or college.”
“Do I actually have to—” Lee began to ask if he was really required to read the book, but he once more found himself unable to hear his own words as the world began fading to black. Well, this stinks, Lee grumbled to himself as he watched his surroundings completely disappear. The bear sat back on its rear haunches and waved goodbye as it took a long swig of beer before finally fading from his vision along with everything else.
What the hell?
——-
The world slowly came back into existence, and his senses began returning to him. It was slightly disorienting being engulfed by a pitch-black void completely devoid of sound, feeling, or vision, but he adapted just as quickly as he had before. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach that was accompanied by a slight lurch, and he found himself standing on a wooden bridge in the middle of a shoddy dirt road that connected what appeared to be two small Scottish-styled hamlets. There were small stone buildings with thatch roofs, a few of which had signs hanging in front, but little else he could see aside from small homes and farms.
Where in Hades am I?
Right as the thought left his head, another prompt popped up:
You are in the town Satterfield within the southern kingdom of Spicy Noodle Chicken Surprise. Spicy Noodle Chicken Surprise is a kingdom founded and still being currently ruled by King Red Ramen of the guild ‘Heroes of Eternity.’
He stood there, completely puzzled
by the prompt, while trying to take in the sights and figure out where he was at the same time. His office career in a major city had never afforded him a visit to the countryside, so everything around him was both foreign and curious to him. As he stood gawking at the rustic scenery with all its quaint charm and idyllic imagery, someone suddenly bumped into him. It wasn’t just a tiny graze, but a meaty shoulder straight to the face as a massive, seven-foot-tall something-not-human passed by him.
What the hell was that? That’s not a human. That’s not anything I’ve ever even seen before! Lee was too shocked by the appearance of the giant, slightly-orange-skinned humanoid to even register outrage at being shouldered in the face and shoved out of the way.
That is a Firbolg. Their race is indigenous to the northwestern kingdoms. They receive a bonus toward the rate at which they gain nature-related skills and skills related to the use of two-handed melee weapons. They receive a bonus to power but receive penalties to Coordination and Reflex.
Wait, is this thing just going to prompt me every time I ask a question about what’s around me? Lee noticed that his internal monologue had spawned two separate prompt answers. He half-expected another prompt to appear to answer that question as well.
Guess not. He sighed. He was still shaken from the experience at the coliseum. The pain might have left his gut, but the memory of it was still incredibly fresh. Even thinking about it now made him feel a phantom pain where the wound had been. Part of him wanted nothing more than to just curl up where he was and quit—to find some way to hide away—and yet another wanted to do anything and everything he could to get back at the self-proclaimed god who had forced him into servitude. Most of all, however, he just wanted to find a way back to the office—back to his comfort zone—where he could sit back down, click away at his computer and go about the dull but comfortable existence he was used to.
As he stood there, staring at the road in front of him, unsure of what to do, another prompt appeared.
Your language translator is now on. You will be able to understand and respond in all written and auditory communications using common languages within War of Eternity. War of Eternity’s Language Databases have also now been updated to include the exotic language: English. For contributing a unique and exotic language to War of Eternity, you have been awarded 5 Intelligence. Your new Intelligence stat is 10.
Intelligence increases the rate at which new skills are learned, and patterns are recognized by 1% per level.
Wait, ten? Shouldn’t it only be five now? It literally just told me that it was zero when Augustus showed it to me. Lee wanted to bring up his status screen once more to investigate, but he was distracted by two girls passing by as soon as he finished reading the prompt.
“Do you think there is something wrong with that NPC?”
“I don’t know. I did the quest, but the reward was terrible.”
“Yeah, the quest rewards in this town are the worst. There’s not a single good quest anywhere. It’s so annoying!” The girls continued to complain as they walked out of earshot of Lee.
Lee blinked. So, this really happened . . . No, this is really happening. Don’t shrink, he told himself, taking slow steady breaths. Don’t shrink. You can do this. I will find a way home. He took another deep breath. Just think of this like a game. You’re level one, you’re in a village you don’t know, you’re surrounded by people and races you don’t know, and you have a quest. What do you do? Lee thought for a minute about how to approach the problem. He was certain that he’d forget about how surreal this death trap was if he could just focus on the task. At the moment, his stomach felt like it had twisted and turned in on itself, his heart was beating far faster than it should, and his chest felt like someone had dropped a fifty-pound weight on it.
I’d try to stack quests! he thought after a moment. Every RPG I play, I try to stack as many quests as I can so that my rewards build up like crazy for each trip back to town! Of course, that’s how I always tackle my MMOs. Lee was strangely comforted by the idea. Some bit of normalcy, no matter how small, was probably the best thing for him at the moment. Are there any easy quests around here?
There are several attainable quests within this vicinity. Many of the quests are restricted based on level and occupation. Currently, lacking a primary damage profession or a secondary crafting profession, only three quests in the town are accessible to you. None are recommended for your level.
Okay, so I have a game index in my head. Lee was now more certain than ever of how the prompts worked. He took out the Book of Augustus and was greeted by his first decision prompt as he opened the massive book:
This book contains detailed knowledge about the God Augustus, his history, and many special and unique skills relating to crafting and drinking. Would you like to absorb the contents of this book?
Absorb the contents of this book? Lee blinked. You’ve got to be kidding me. This can’t be that easy, can it? He blinked a few more times as he stared dumbfoundedly at the prompt. Yes, I would like to absorb the contents, he thought at the book, hoping it would work. Sure enough, he felt a sharp pain in his head followed by sudden clarity. Where before he had no idea about anything related to Augustus, he could now list off the dates and times of the founding of his church, the feats of Augustus, and even the ceremonies needed to show worship for Augustus—all of which essentially revolved around getting drunk with other people and talking about cool ideas for stuff to make. Augustus was essentially the god that everyone at Lee’s old college had worshiped without even knowing it.
You have absorbed all the knowledge you are capable of understanding from the Book of Augustus. In doing so, you attempted to learn many skills but were unable due to lacking proficiencies in crafting skills.
You have learned the skill Golem Sculpting. This is a hidden skill only accessible by Heralds from the Church of Augustus.
Due to learning it through a manual, Golem Sculpting has been promoted to Initiate Level 2. Golems created by Golem Sculpting are now 5% more effective in combat. Current Combat bonus: 15.00% Future golems created by Golem Sculpting may now take up an additional 5% more space. Current Max Space: 2.2 fluid ounces.
You have learned the hidden skill Appreciative Drunk. This is a hidden skill only accessible by members of the Church of Augustus.
Due to learning it through a manual, Appreciative Drunk has been promoted to Initiate Level 2.
You have been awarded 4 Intelligence for learning 4 skill ranks. Your current Intelligence: 14.
Golem Sculpting? OK, so I’ve learned it, but how— Lee was about to ask how to make the golem or access the skill, but then he just felt stupid. He didn’t have much confidence in his abilities, but so long as clay was available, and he had time to imbue it with his spirit, he was positive he could sculpt a golem. He suddenly realized that it wasn’t only a skill that he had only just learned: it was like the knowledge had existed in his head all along.
I might be able to handle some of these quests with a golem, he reasoned, still trying to focus on the game mechanics of this world rather than dwell on his own circumstances. Looking around him to see if there was any usable clay or dirt, he was able to spot several places on the side of the road with some good, soft earth. He took a few lumps of it, walked over to the nearby stream, did his best to make something close to a fist or two worth of clay out of it, and then sat down to try his hand at Golem Sculpting.
So, if I have this right, I’m just supposed to let my spirit flow into the dirt and then channel that into shaping my Golem. As he continued to shape the golem, his mind was unconsciously drawn back to the image of the talking mouse that had started this whole venture. Before the mouse had interrupted him earlier, he was just a regular office worker. Now, less than an hour later, he was a zombie hunter shaping a handful of dirt into a hopefully magical piece of clay that would do his bidding. By the time he was able to shake the image out of his head, he was done, and there, sitting in his hands, was a tiny clay mouse.<
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The dirt that had been barely passable as clay before was now a solid, shiny brown substance that would have made any potter jealous. The mouse, no more than two and a half inches long, silently tilted its head to face its creator. Then, as it opened its tiny argil eyes, Lee’s world split in two. At once, he knew the details of his own face and the world behind him as the mouse saw it. He could see everything the mouse saw. He knew everything the mouse knew. So, this is Golem Sculpting, Lee marveled. And just what am I going to name you? he asked the little mouse in his hands.
The tiny creature didn’t make a noise, but Lee would have sworn that it had squeaked at him in response. Then, Lee realized that he had heard the golem with his mind, not his ears. Miraculously, he knew that this was another aspect of the relationship between a golem and its creator.
Well, how about Minsc? he thought as he looked at it. No, that won’t do. You’re not a gerbil. How about . . . Hmm. . . How about Ethan? The mouse squeaked appreciatively, even if no sound was actually made. It was a strange feeling, like listening to an inner monologue that wasn’t his own.
After that was settled, he only had one more pressing question: What exactly is Appreciative Drunk? he asked, hoping that the command prompt would fill in the blank.
Query cannot be answered. Appreciative Drunk can only be understood while under the influence of alcohol.
What the . . .? I can’t even know what my own skill does unless I’m sloshed? Lee blinked. That can’t be right, he grumbled. But he knew that it was. It was a special skill learned from the God of Alcohol’s book, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. How am I supposed to even get a drink, anyway?
