by Jakob Tanner
More information followed about my specific sub-race:
Haeren (Arethkarian)
Arethkarians are known as the wealthiest and noblest of the five Haeren sub-races—that is, if you ask them. As citizens of the most populous and powerful continent Arethkar, Arethkarians believe themselves to be the true leaders of all Haeren people and Illyria as a whole. The lowliest beggar of their capital city Ryr’s Ascension would lift his nose up at the most powerful noble of any of the other four continents. [Arethkarians start with a positive stance to all other Haeren sub-races, except for Laergardians for whom they share a neutral stance. Neutral with all other races].
Hmm. I did not like the sound of these Arethkarians. But I bet they came with an optimal starting position if nothing else. I recalled the awesome sky tower from the opening cinematic. That must’ve been their capital, Ryr’s Ascension. It would be cool to explore. It was certainly worth considering. Though did I want to enter the world at its snobbiest focal point? Not so sure.
I clicked a button on the interface, return to Haeren sub-races. A new page appeared with the entire list of the different Haeren sub-races.
+Arethkarian
+Laergardian
+Orensparon
+Renzarish
+Solmini
Oh man. This was getting super complicated fast. Five sub-races! Plus there were all the other main races to contemplate as well. The depth and complexity of this game world was coming to life in these early choices. I clicked the Laergardian option, partly because they were the second choice on the list but also because, from the neutral stance mentioned before, they did not care for the Arethkarians very much which I took as a positive indication.
Haeren (Laergardian)
Laergardians are the Haeren citizens of the second largest floating continent in Illlyria, Laergard. The two landmasses are separated by the great cloud ocean, The Rift. Tensions between Laergard and Arethkar have always been strained as the the Laergardian Royal Family refuses to swear fealty to the Arethkarian High Council. [Laergardians have a neutral stance with all Haeren sub-races. Neutral with all other races].
Interesting. The Laergardians on paper were weaker than the Arethkarians in terms of racial bonuses, but it sounded like they had a more interesting starting position. World events would be centered around Laergard and such occurrences meant rare items and awesome loot drops. This was something to consider.
Curious about the other races, I pointed my finger in the air and pressed on the “return to Haeren sub-races” button which then let me press, “return to playable races.” A new list appeared in front of me.
+Aeri
+Haeren
+Lirana
+Muumuu
+Rorn
My mouth drooled at all the options. With some games I’d spend hours in character creation, experimenting with different builds and races. It was a whole game unto itself. But the harsh reality of my current situation was different. This wasn’t a game for me anymore. I couldn’t build a character, mess around with him, and then build another. No. This was the start of a new life. I only got one character, one chance to get it right.
I took a deep breath and started scrolling through the races. There were the dwarf-like Rorn: short, stout, and incredibly strong. Then there was the Lirana: a nomadic humanoid cat race specializing in both the merchant arts along with rogue and assassin classes. There was the tiny and adorable Muumuu: a fox-like race who were natural born healers and artisans. All of them were intriguing but none of them spoke out to me.
I clicked back to the starting menu in frustration. Only one main race remained. The Aeri. After clicking them I would have to make a decision and so far—I wasn’t sure what I wanted. Would I simply settle and do the easiest option of Haeren?
I selected Aeri and felt myself get taller. My stomach sucked in on itself. My body slimmed out. My ears grew sharply angled and pointy. The color of my eyes turned violet. Damn. I was like a badass version of myself combined with Legolas.
Aeri
One of the oldest races of Illyria, the Aeri believe they are descendants of their mother tree, Gaia, in the Elder Woods. The Aeri are adept magic users. They are at one with the innate mana coursing through them and the mana within nature and all life. In the modern age, many Aeri have wandered from their forest and natural dwellings and have become great leaders, scholars, and politicians in greater Illyrian society. Despite this, many Aeri still tend to reside in their forest homeland and minimize their interaction with the other races of Illyria. [All Aeri get a +5 stat bonus to Spirit and Magic Attack Power. They start at a neutral alignment with all races except the Rorn which they begin at with a negative alignment].
I felt a flutter of excitement with these guys. I toggled through the four sub-races of the Aeri. The sub-races defined themselves with an affinity to certain elements. The Al-Hari prioritized air and water magic while the Murgain were obsessed with harnessing the power of fire. Interestingly the Chakren were fascinated by Earth magic and Crystallized mana, an interest which put them in a positive alignment with the Rorn race. But my favorite of the Aeri was the original sub-race I chose. The Eldra Aeri.
Aeri (Eldra)
There was once a time when all Aeri lived under the banner of Eldra. The Eldra believe in the Gaia Tree and the spirit of all things coursing through the world, connecting us all. They don’t seek to worship one element over the other but wish to harness the innate energy binding all life. [Eldra Aeri start with neutral alignment to all Aeri sub-races. Neutral with all other races except for Rorn in which they have a negative alignment].
So why was I digging this race so much? First off, I was like the athletic basketball player version of myself. Secondly, I really liked how they were big on magic. When I was younger, I always played easier tank classes like warrior or knight, but knowing I would have to spend the rest of my life in this game made me really want to play a more complicated class. A small part of me also thought of my father, the academic. He never forgave me for dropping out of college. Well, mages and wizards were the scholars of these games, the keepers of arcane truths and ancient texts. Pursuing such a path might make him proud—if I ever did see him again.
I was ready. I selected Aeri (Eldra) as my race choice.
I was going to be a motherfucking elf.
The scholarly voice from the cut scene spoke in my mind: To enter Illyria please choose your name.
I would stick with my name. I needed to keep a reminder of who I once was; especially if I transformed myself into a magical elf.
I spoke out loud, “Clay Hopewell.”
Are you ready to enter the world of Illyria, Clay Hopewell the Eldra Aeri?
What about class selection? Didn’t I get to choose whether I was a knight or spell caster or whatever?
Your class must be pursued and earned within the game.
Got it. You had to do a special quest to unlock a class. Cool. Then I guess I was good to go. The telepathic voice asked me again if I was ready to enter Illyria. This time I said: “Bring it on.”
Good luck, young traveller, let your adventures bring you hope and prosperity!
The desert realm erupted into a bright cloud of glittering dust and my vision swirled until there was nothing but darkness.
4
Something slithered on the ground. Something slimy dragging itself across dirt and grass. The rustle of leaves and branches gently tickled my ears. My eyes flickered open and I found myself on a wooden floor, lying right beside a nail covered in flakes of rust. To my right and left were two wooden panels and in front of me was a door with metal bars like a prison cell. Beyond the caged doors was the silhouette of a person. A caption appeared above his head: [Skren Bandit]. He was shrouded in a dark navy cloak, his legs outstretched over the glowing green back of a massive slug-like creature. It was a gigantic snail, enlarged to the scale of an elephant. The bandit controlled the creature with both his hands gripped on its two slime tentacles. The mollu
sk slithered forward across the forest floor, dragging its shell and the caravan along with it.
I reached out but instead jerked my shoulders awkwardly and fell to the floor. My hands were stuck. They were clasped together by a pair of handcuffs. I clenched my fists and forced my arms in opposite directions like a circus strong man. The metal dug deep marks in my skin. The sharp sting in my wrists seethed throughout my entire arm and I collapsed on my back, out of breath, giving up.
I crawled back from the cage door. So long as my captor didn’t know I had awoken, it was an advantage in my favor. Now I had to think. There must be a way out of here. How about my inventory? As I contemplated the word inventory, a whole HUD (Head-Up Display) appeared in my vision, along with a message: Cannot Access Inventory When Handcuffed. In the top left hand corner of my vision were two bars: one red for my HP (health points) and underneath it a shorter blue bar for my MP (mana points). A square box flashed underneath the bars with an image of handcuffs.
Handcuffed (debuff): Cannot access inventory or engage in combat. Maybe next time, you’ll stay out of trouble.
Goddamn patronizing game. I literally just entered Illyria. I haven’t even had a chance to do anything. The HUD faded from my vision.
I lifted my wrists and inspected the handcuffs. The chain was orange with rust. I eyed the steel bars of my cage. What would happen if I knocked my cuffs against the metal?
Luminescent stars shone down from the night sky onto the lush green foliage of the forest surrounding us. The shadows of gnarled tree branches rippled across the cage’s bars and wooden floorboards. My captor remained hunched and shrouded behind his cloak, focused on piloting the snail down the forest path. He was distracted. Good.
I stood up and took a few steps back in the caravan. Then I ran and leapt forward flinging my wrists at the steel bar of the cage. It clanged loudly as I smashed my head against the bar. I fell backwards and cut myself against the wood.
My HP dropped by 3%. A new debuff box materialized under my status bars, right beside the handcuff symbol.
Splinter (debuff): HP regeneration slowed by 10%. If splinter is left unattended, 50% chance of developing an infection (Bacterial Infection: HP depletes by 1% every minute until the infection is removed). Time period before potential infection: 30 minutes.
Is this game for real? Splinter infection—are you fucking kidding me?
My captor turned around. He had dark red eyes, a brown furry face, and the whiskered snout of a rat. He bared his sharp yellow teeth, growling. Then, even more frighteningly, he spoke in a sick and scratchy voice.
“If you try to escape again, I’ll gut you and feed you to my snail.”
My captor turned around and continued directing the slug further down the path.
I gulped. The designers of this game were clearly sick psychopaths. I put my back to the rat creature and lifted my foot to inspect the splinter. My god. It was miniscule. Yet somehow it had the potential to kill me. I squirmed my cuffed hands close to it and squeezed the flesh of my foot, pushing the wooden speck out through the tiny tear in my skin. I squeezed and pinched my foot and eventually the wooden speck pathetically poked itself out. I fell back in exhaustion.
You have learned a new survival skill: First Aid (Level 1)
When far from the comfort of doctors and healers, sometimes you need to aid yourself. Tending to your wounds will increase this survival skill and open up new methods for you to stay alive while on your own.
Great. Now I needed to figure out an escape plan. My only option currently was to wait until we arrived at wherever this rat creature was taking me. A new setting might offer more opportunities of escape. I leaned my head against the wall and rested my eyes. An odd noise came from behind me. A cough. I turned around and glimpsed deep into the shadows of the caravan. A pair of bright silver eyes blinked and glowed out from the darkness.
I wasn’t the only prisoner in this cage.
5
I stared at the back of the caravan and whispered, “Who’s back there?”
A soft chuckle emanated from the darkness. Starlight fell through the bars and I caught an illuminated glimpse of the passenger in the back. It was a Lirana male with cat ears poking out from his shaggy dark blue hair. He had a tanned face with big silver eyes and whiskers poking out from his cheeks. He wore a white tunic with a black vest overtop. On his legs he wore puffy black breeches and tall leather boots. Compared to my cloth attire and complete lack of footwear, this guy was a total aristocrat. Despite our differences in appearance though, the gentleman’s wrists were cuffed like mine.
“You’re far away from home young Aeri,” said the Lirana with a mischievous grin. The man’s long blue tail curled up and scratched his neck. “How ever did you end up here?”
I winced at my fellow prisoner. Was this guy for real? I wasn’t sure whether he was a non-player character (NPC) or an actual gamer extra jazzed about roleplaying. I didn’t receive any prompts in my HUD.
“How about you tell me why you’re here?”
The Lirana was taken aback. “You certainly are coy. But I don’t mind telling you how I ended up in this god forsaken caravan.” He leant his head against the wall and scratched his chin. “I was playing a bit of cards at a pub in Claren’s Crossing, you see. I was on a hot streak. Really raking in the coins. Until that rat bastard over there and his pals started cheating. Then it became a game of who cheats better and trust me—I’m good at that game. When I’d soaked them for all their coins, I wished them a good night and went on my way. But halfway back to the inn where I was staying, I got ambushed. Four rusty rapiers pointed at my neck.” He shook his head, disappointed for not escaping the attack. “I can’t really recall what happened after. The next thing I remember I woke up here with these cuffs on my wrist.”
“Do you know where we’re being taken?”
“Since we’re talking about the Skren here, my best guess is they’re taking us to their cave hideout where we’ll be slowly tortured to death. Most likely over a roasting pit of fire. After that they’ll eat us for dinner.”
I looked at the man in horror.
“Relax—we’ll be dead by the time they eat us.”
We turned off the forest path and entered a torch lit cavern between two massive rock formations. As the Lirana had predicted, we were heading to a cave hideout.
Our caravan went deep into the cavern. The rock walls were orange beneath the glare of a great fire. Heat filled the air. Ash flickered. Wood crackled. The mollusk descended a large platform, revealing the Skren dwelling: a shanty town made of scrap metal, rotting wood, and tunnels dug through the rock.
A wailing scream echoed through the cavern. The shadows on the rocks revealed a silhouette of a blazing fire and the black contours of a squirming Haeren woman, hanging from a spit held above the flames. She screeched and wrangled as the fire burned her alive. The Skren poked at her with their spears like chefs at a grill house, making sure her whole body got roasted properly. They wanted her skin crisp and golden.
I turned to the Lirana.
“Hey now—don’t be giving me that scared look,” said the cat man. “You’re making me nervous. Listen—” He glanced back and forth cautiously and then leaned his head to me and whispered, “It won’t be easy but the two of us could break out of here. What do you say?”
A new window appeared in my HUD:
New Quest Alert: Escape The Bandits!
Join forces with your fellow prisoner and escape the Skren bandits.
Quest Type: Unique
Quest Difficulty: Moderate
Reward: Freedom + 100 EXP
Accept: Yes/No ?
There really was no question, I wanted to get out of here quest or no quest. I accepted the mission, thinking yes in my head. The window closed in my HUD and the Lirana prisoner smiled at me.
“I knew I could count on you.” He stuck out his hand and said, “The name’s Shade by the way. No middle name. No last name. I keep it neat and simple.
Shade.”
A message popped up in my HUD: Shade has joined your party. Underneath my status bars and debuff icons, a picture of Shade’s face appeared.
“What are we going to do about these?” I said, raising my chained wrists.
Shade put his finger to his lips. “Wait.”
The Skren bandit had disappeared. The cave walls outside angled upwards. The Skren were lowering us off the giant snail. I lost my balance and fell to the back of the cage. Next the caravan thumped flat onto the ground. The thick amber shell covered the cage door. The snail slid forward, dragging the shell through the dirt. The firelight of the caverns crept back into our cage. Two Skren bandits poked the snail with their weapons while a third pulled a collared rope and led the mollusk to a wooden stable where they closed and locked it behind a gate. Its tentacles poked through the fence, its bulbous eyes peering into the cavern. It was imprisoned like us. My sympathy waned though when one guard held out a dismembered hand, the flesh quickly disappearing down the slug’s neck.
After feeding the snail, the two Skren returned to our now immobile carriage and stood in front of the entrance, keeping guard. The scraggly bipedal rats wore leather vests and shorts and had rusty swords hanging from their belts made of string. As I focused on them, more information than I expected appeared under the [Skren Bandit] caption.
