War Aeternus: The Beginning

by Charles Dean

  Yes! YES! SUCCESS! Lee did his best to not burst with exuberance right there.

  “I’d be more than happy to teach you too about Augustus.” Lee went into his best full-on salesman mode. “He is the God of Alcohol and Crafts, and as such, his teachings are useful in all facets of everyday life.”

  “That does sound interesting, but let’s talk about it more tomorrow,” the old man responded, beginning to brush Lee off.

  Lee couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at the old man’s words. After all, this was the second time someone had that same reaction as he began talking about religion.

  “For now,” Mr. Ying continued, “my daughter has been returned to me safe and sound, so I’d like to take her back to the house, get some food in her and let her have a good night’s rest. Does that sound good, Ling? Weiser is waiting for you.”

  “Yes, that sounds wonderful!” Ling’s expression had brightened a bit when she saw her father, but the mention of her cat made her flash a dazzling smile.

  Ugh. If everyone keeps ditching the second religion is mentioned, how am I ever going to find a convert?

  “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea for us, either,” Miller said, patting Lee on the back and turning to him. “I promised to show you the cheapest tavern in town and buy you a round of beer, but after today’s harvest, we can stay at any inn in town!”

  “The cheapest one is fine,” Lee quickly insisted. No matter where they stayed, he was sure he would be preoccupied with his life back home and how he had ended up in this situation. There was no point in wasting his hard-earned money on what would likely be a lugubrious night.

  “Are you sure? We should celebrate! We should go to the nicest restaurant in town and eat like the kings we are! For, today, we saved a life and ended four men who had no problem enslaving one!”

  Miller’s personality and good mood were somewhat infectious—but only somewhat. “I’m fine with the cheapest,” Lee assured him. “We should save our money for something worthwhile, something that can help the community.” And why am I talking like I’m going to be adventuring with him often?

  “Spoken like a true man of the cloth. I knew we could get along from the moment we met,” Miller stated.

  No, you didn’t. You were hesitant about even splitting the original quest reward with me. Lee grimaced at the memory, but he nodded to Miller and offered a small, differential laugh. “Of course, it was certain to happen. Now, about that tavern?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to do another delivery quest first? There is still sunlight,” Miller pressed. He was likely close to level six by now and probably wanted to knock that out before he logged off.

  Lee was about to try his hand at arguing with him again, but then he remembered he didn’t have to. “I’m pretty sure you said you’d show me the tavern and get me a beer after we finished returning the cat. Now, we’ve finished another quest, and you’re pushing for one more? Don’t tell me you’re the type of man to go back on your word?” Lee smiled as he delivered the fatal shot to Miller’s hopes of further questing.

  “But . . .” Miller stared open-mouthed at Lee. “No, my bad. You, umm . . . Humans just usually don’t take me up on these things.”

  There is the word ‘humans’ again, his go-to substitute for NPCs, Lee thought to himself, mentally taking notes of what Miller was saying. He was very interested in how and what made NPCs so different in this world, aside from the fact they could die, and players would likely just respawn. So, now it’s just a question if the ‘things’ he was referring to was whether NPCs had a good long-term memory or not, whether they normally acted disagreeable with players, and whether or not they pushed to cash in on player-promised gifts and rewards. Lee scratched his chin as he noted the details.

  “How long have you been . . .” Lee trailed off as he realized that he couldn’t just ask ‘How long have you been in this world?’ He knew that he was registered as an NPC, and that’s what Miller saw him as, so until he learned how he was supposed to interact, he had to play it safe. Instead, he asked, “How long have you been in Satterfield? Is this your first time to the Spicy Chicken Noodle Kingdom?”

  “Oh, yeah. I just arrived this morning.”

  “So, have you had many dealings with, uhh . . . Humans before? How long have you been in the kingdom?”

  “No, I suppose I haven’t. Not that any of us, umm . . . Firbolgs have.” Miller stepped around the word ‘player’ again. “A lot of us just started in the last few weeks, perhaps two months at the most?”

  This news caught Lee’s interest. Considering how dire Augustus had made the situation out to be, he had taken it for granted that the game had been around for a long time. If nothing else, he had imagined that this was at the least a finished game. Given the fact that the kingdom was named Spicy Noodle Chicken Surprise, and the king’s name was Red Ramen, basically another random food item, it was only logical to assume that this game had been around long enough for players to take control of various different aspects. He never would have imagined that it was still a fresh release or names like those had been chosen by the developers.

  “I see,” Lee answered. “But”—Lee decided to mess with Miller and see if he could get more information on NPCs at the same time—“if not a lot of people know about how to deal with us . . . umm, Humans, then how is it that you were so sure I wouldn't hold you to a promise? Or is it just that you break a lot of promises?”

  “What? No, of course not! I’d never break a promise without the other party being okay with it!” Miller protested.

  “Like the first time we did a quest, you mean? When you accepted the quest for both of us instead of taking us right to the tavern as promised?” Lee’s grin would have been ear to ear as he watched the giant, lanky man squirm under pressure if he hadn’t put every bit of effort he could into suppressing his amusement.

  “So, the tavern is just down this way . . .” Miller sidestepped both Lee and the conversation, jaunting off in front of him as he led the way.

  Chapter 3

  Name: Lee

  Race: Human

  Class: Herald - None

  Level: 4

  Health: 140/140

  EXP- 417/500

  Primary Stats:

  Power 14

  Toughness 14

  Spirit 14

  Secondary Stats:

  Charisma 5

  Courage 5

  Intelligence 21

  Honor 1

  Skills:

  Unarmed Combat: Initiate Level 1

  Swordplay: Initiate Level 1

  Sneak: Initiate Level 1

  Divine Skills:

  Golem Sculpting: Initiate Level 3

  Appreciative Drunk: Initiate Level 2

  Although they had spent a large part of the day searching through the small town, Lee hadn’t really taken the time to explore many of the buildings. He had a fair sense of the town’s layout at this point, but he was still clueless as to the function of many of the edifices. Every structure was almost identical in construction and appearance, and he had a bit of trouble understanding exactly what the signs out front were meant to depict.

  As it turned out, the tavern was no exception to the rule: it was nothing more than a two-story building comprised of grey stone walls on the base floor, a wood-built second story and capped with the same thatch roof as every other structure in town. It also became clear why Miller had described this as the cheapest place in town as soon as he stepped foot inside. The windows had been boarded over from the inside, so there was absolutely no form of natural light streaming in, and there were so many candles placed around the room that Lee was actually impressed the place hadn’t burned down yet. Further, there wasn't a single proper piece of furniture anywhere to be seen. Instead of traditional wooden round or long tables, there were giant, waist-height stone slabs with flat-cut surfaces designed to function as tables and smaller stones placed around them to serve as seating.

  The only famili
ar sight in the entire room was that of the actual bar—a long wooden counter set on the side of the room with a single man behind it who was cleaning a stone mug and whistling an unfamiliar tune. Other than the fact that he was wearing the most dapper outfit Lee had seen since arriving in this world, he could have fit in almost anywhere.

  Did they save on costs by getting rid of actual furniture? Is this why this place is so cheap? “Why aren’t there any proper chairs or tables?” Lee pondered aloud, voicing his curiosity.

  “Hellions and hooligans are why!” The barkeeper's loud voice answered back. “Before those rapscallion upstarts began coming to town, this whole place was furnished with the finest chairs, tables and mugs a man could carve! But those rascals kept starting fights and breaking everything, so I sold it all and replaced it with a bunch of rocks. The stone chairs end fights much faster than wooden ones, so if anyone gets out of hand and starts tossing things around at each other now, they’ll be left in the hospital, and I won’t be left with the bill!”

  “How often do fights happen?” Lee asked.

  “One or two a week,” the bartender answered, pulling out two new mugs and pouring drinks. “They used to be much more common back before we started getting the occasional bard with a proper lyre. Seems that music does soothe the savage beast—even if he’s drunk.”

  “Well, hopefully, no one starts anything tonight. I really just need to relax,” Lee said, taking the beer as it was put in front of him.

  “Well, consider your first drink on the house. Mr. Ying told me what you did for that girl of his, and this is the least I can do to thank you. My name is Ramon, by the way.”

  “You know Mr. Ying and Ling?” Lee asked. Of course he does. This town isn’t very big, so everyone probably knows everyone else. Still . . . we came straight here. How does he already know what we did? That just doesn’t make any sense. Why do NPCs in every RPG always have super-fast telepathic communication methods . . . Wait, I’m an NPC now, right? Do I at least get that too?

  “Ramon knows everyone in town,” Miller said as he grabbed his beer and drank half of it in one go. “No, let me rephrase that: Ramon knows everything that happens in town. He’s the best bartender in the best tavern in Satterfield, so how could he not?”

  “The best, you say?” Lee figured he’d go along with Miller’s assumption. He had just met the guy, and Miller had promised to buy him a beer, so Lee wasn’t going to rock the boat by challenging him too soon. Not to mention, Lee’s ears had perked up the second he heard Miller use the phrase ‘knows everything.’ If there was one thing Lee knew for certain, it was that characters like bartenders or rumormongers were priceless tools when it came to navigating a game world and finishing every quest with the least amount of effort.

  “Well, actually, I would give Copper Lane the prize if you asked me,” Ramon answered, shrugging off the compliment. “Their service is a solid eight out of ten, and that’s not even accounting for the affordability of their high-class dining. There is also—”

  “It’s okay. We don’t need another place. This one is perfect,” Miller said, cutting him off before his list could go any further. “But you see what I mean, Lee? He knows everything. Not to mention, he’s the most modest person you’ll ever meet. That’s part of what makes his place the best.”

  “It’s a good thing he has you to brag for him,” Lee said with a laugh as he clinked glasses with Miller and chugged down the beer. He normally wasn’t one to drink. He had learned the hard way that drinking dulled his reflexes, slowed his thoughts and often cost him money that he’d rather be spending on something more permanent. But today was an exception. Today, he wanted it.

  “No bragging is needed,” Ramon said as he took Lee’s glass and started to refill it. “Your continued patronage in the future will be sufficient. Although, I really do suggest that you try the food at Haikai’s Pastry Sh—.”

  Ah, so it’s like that. “There’s need,” Lee said, cutting Ramon off before he could talk about another establishment’s food. “I’m sure the food here is just fine.” Lee smiled politely as he watched Ramon pour the beverage. He does nice things for me now, talks honestly and acts like a friend, and in return, he hopes to receive an equal if not greater monetary reward through my continued patronage. Sly man, Mister Ramon. Sly man. Lee naturally assumed the worst of his magnanimous host. He had seen far too many ‘friendly’ waiters, waitresses, and bartenders in his time not to. For now, however, he was going to lean into the man’s play since he was a fountain of honest information about the rest of the town.

  “If that’s how you feel, then our establishment will have to do its best to live up to your expectations. What can I get for you?” Ramon asked. “I highly recommend the mutton kebab with some bread and cheese.”

  “Yeah, sure, we’ll go with that.” Lee nodded his agreement and started working on his second beer. He had only expected the usual piss water that was typically found in rundown bars or back alleys, but this was far better. He was pleasantly surprised at how good it actually was.

  Surprisingly, though it shouldn’t have been at this point, one of the fancy blue windows popped up in front of him to let him know he was intoxicated.

  You are now inebriated. Due to your Initiate Level 2 Appreciative Drunk skill, stat adjustment has been reduced. Your inebriation penalty has been changed from -50% Intelligence, -30% Coordination, -30% Reflex to -48% Intelligence, -28% Coordination, -28% Reflex. You also have received an additional +2 to Courage and +1 to Charisma from Appreciative Drunk until your inebriation fades.

  Wait, is that what Appreciative Drunk skill does? It lowers how badly alcohol tampers with my stats? He had never realized that alcohol was so detrimental to a player’s stats. He had been so caught up in trying to stay alive during all the fights earlier that he had completely forgotten about the ‘locked’ skill that even the game prompt wouldn’t describe for him.

  Appreciative Drunk also has the property of changing all combat proficiency skills while under its influence. The following skills have been changed to their Appreciative Drunk counterparts and will remain in their changed form until you are sober:

  Unarmed Combat has been changed to Drunk Fu.

  Swordplay has been changed to Tipsy Blade.

  Sneak has been changed to No Squeaky Floorboards, Please.

  Woah, so Augustus being the God of Alcohol and Crafts was no joke. I wonder if any of those are going to be useful, given the low Coordination and Reflex stats I’d have while under the influence.

  “This Intelligence hit from drinking sure is something,” Lee said as he read over the stats again. It normally drops you -50% Intelligence? That’s realistic, I guess, but still such a huge hit. What happened to games where drinking different liquors made everyone awesome at stuff? Isn’t there supposed to be a buff for consuming bottles of concoctions, not a penalty?

  “Well, it’s not like it matters at this level,” Miller laughed. “I mean, half your Intelligence is only one or two points, right? Who cares about losing one or two points. It’s only for those people who master their arts and really stack intelligence that it matters.”

  “One or two points?” Lee frowned. My intelligence has been reduced to 52% of what it was . . . I’ve lost at least 10 freaking points of Int! “So, you only lost one point of Intelligence?”

  “Well, yeah?” Miller suddenly seemed to have no problem metagaming with an NPC. “I was pretty smart in real life, so my starting Intelligence was incredibly high at 1. Then I got another one-point boost for unlocking the Initiate Spear Level 1 without even having a trainer. Justice was my teacher during training and battles!”

  Wait, what? He only got one point for unlocking a skill without a trainer? And he only started at one point, even though he was really smart? Lee smiled at Miller and placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to put on a display of camaraderie as the Firbolg prattled on and on about how smart he was—which Lee seriously doubted. Still, Lee couldn’t help but feel
grateful. The man had unintentionally given him the first clue to a question he had been asking himself since he had first been taken: Why me? As soon as Miller started talking about how high his Intelligence was when he ‘started,’ Lee remembered that Augustus had made fun of his own intelligence stat. The condescending deity had said it was ‘zero’ and that he was an ‘idiot.’

  Lee had been so overwhelmed with everything that he just took Augustus’ statement at face value. When he made it into the world, however, the game had somehow pulled the ‘exotic language of English’ from his head and had boosted his intelligence by five to a total of ten. That meant that his Intelligence had actually been at a base of five, even at level zero. Despite Miller’s over-the-top confidence, if the Firbolg felt like a starting Intelligence level of one was something to brag about, five was astronomical. There was also the fact that Lee had received two points of Intelligence from learning a skill without a trainer when Miller only received one. That was definitely something worth taking note of.

  I knew it. I knew that all those years I spent studying in college, playing games and reading books had left me with better-than-average smarts. Lee grinned. This was a big reveal. The question now was why Augustus had lied about it. It was a question he likely wouldn’t answer before he got a chance to see Augustus again, but one that he would be sure to remember to ask.

  “Here, have another one on the house,” Ramon said, interjecting himself back into the conversation as he refilled Miller and Lee’s glasses again.

  “That’s . . .” Lee appreciated the first one, but he began to feel a little uncomfortable accepting this man’s generosity as they kept piling on. He hadn’t even been the one to volunteer to save the girl—that had been his overly-zealous companion. “That’s really not necessary,” Lee finished.