"Let's say someone said something that offended you, a random person on the street or someone you knew. Would you spit in their face?"
"What? No..."
"Would you grab whatever was handy and throw it at them?"
"Of course not."
"Why not? I mean you wouldn't be doing them any real damage."
"That's not the point. You don't just…"
"Lash out like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum because you're angry or frustrated or upset in some way? Why? Ignoring the fact that it's just rude and socially unacceptable. Why?"
He was quiet for a few seconds, trying to put his thoughts together before saying, "It's just not a good way to deal with your anger. It's just… a bad way to handle things." Then he frowned and said, “Sure. I mean, I understand what you’re saying. I understand the principal but…”
He didn’t finish the sentence but I knew what he was thinking and I sighed. “It's just like the caveman thing.”
They both looked at me in confusion, so I explained.
“Wait.” David scowled at me. “I’m the stupid caveman in this scenario?”
“Hey! I never said Grug was stupid and I am offended on his behalf! I demand an apology for my imaginary caveman friend that I just made up!”
“You can’t be serious…” David trailed off when he looked at my stubborn expression.
“He’s not… I don’t… really?”
Aeria leaned in and whispered, “Just go with it.”
After a second the Centaur raised his hands in surrender and said, “I’m sorry I insulted your imaginary caveman by implying he was stupid. I will refrain from making insulting comments about him in the future.”
“Thank you,” I said primly.
We walked in silence for a while before he asked, “Were you really upset that I insulted Grug?”
“You know… weirdly… yes.”
David started rubbing his head like he was getting a headache.
“Not as much as I pretended to of course," I added. "But still, yeah. I’m not sure why though.”
"Its because thoughts manifest as words." Taren said as he walked up beside Aeria. "Words shape actions and actions shape who you are. Thoughts and words that are crude, petty, spiteful, lacking in empathy or consideration, encourages you to be a crude, petty, spiteful, selfish and short sighted person. So even an insult that isn’t about a real person is frowned on."
I thought about that for a second and said, “Words have power. So much power. Power to shape the world. Power to shape who we are, even when it comes to things seemingly unimportant.”
"Insulting another person is bad enough," Taren looked sideways at me as he spoke, "but being called out on it and refusing to apologize, or at the very least, acknowledge your insult is much worse. It implies ignorance or a lack of intelligence on your part."
Aeria gave a delicate snort. "Try telling a Punisher that. They'll just call it being 'Politically Correct'."
David's confusion was plain. "I've never heard that term before."
"A Punisher is a - "
Aeria started to explain but David said, "Oh, I understand that. I mean the other one. Political correct?"
"The term Politically Correct was created when a previous generation's social consciousness had a midlife crisis," I explained. "It took the idea of being polite and considerate towards others to extremes. People became overly fanatical to the point of it being detrimental to society. Or, used it to excuse their rudeness and apathy by saying 'Oh, you're just being PC' when someone called them out on their behaviour."
"We learned about it in our Ethics and Morality classes back in elementary school." Aeria added.
"Ah, Ethics and Morality." I smiled in remembrance. "My favourite subject! Especially the debate part of it. It was the only time I could argue others into an incoherent, frustrated rage without getting into trouble. Well, when my fourth grade teacher got so angry at me she punched me in the face I got into trouble but wherever."
They stared at me.
"She said it was an accident," I added.
They stared some more.
"It was probably an accident." I admitted. "Mostly."
"Wait." Taren frowned. "How did you get in trouble when a teacher hit you?"
"Because the principal knew me." I explained.
I was about to explain further when the guy who instigated the whole "Let's kill Ruin maybe!" incident came up to walk beside me.
I eyed him and he looked determinedly forward. Aeria and Taren looked at each other and then fell back to where Tahaniria walked with the other Shadow Elves.
When it was just him, me and the Centaur the Elf spoke.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"I don't care, " I said back.
He paused and I expected him to get angry but instead his shoulders sagged and he said in a quiet voice, "I'm not usually… I'm bad at... confrontation. I sorry. I didn't mean what I said.”
“Dude, you totally meant what you said.”
He winced. “Yeah. I did. But I was wrong to say it. I spoke while angry which caused me to rush to a judgment that oversimplified the situation."
He looked morosely at the ground as he walked, looking so miserable that I groaned and said, "Blood and Suffering! You can't do that! How am I supposed to stay angry at you when you sound so… ugh! Okay! Fine! You're forgiven."
He looked up at me, confused. "Really?"
"Totally. You know the old saying, 'Forgive but never forget.' okay?"
"O - oh. Okay," he paused and said, "I'm 24011-02, by the way. Cashus Out."
I tried not to twitch at his name. He noticed and smirked at me.
“What? Last name ‘Out’ first name ‘Cashus’.”
I shook my head, “You Neonites and your names.”
“Whatever you say, Ruin.”
"Hey, at.least it's not Aegis name," I pointed out.
Cashus nodded. "That's true."
We ended up debating the pros and cons of our different worlds. Which led to a discussion about this world's available classes.
He explained that as a Psion he had specializations and sub specializations.
When he told me that he was a telekinetic I immediately wanted the details. What I knew about their abilities was limited.
Elves (Alphas): A high bonus to Mental Fortitude. A strong bonus to Speed. And a higher starting level to the Telepathy specialization.
That was it.
Well, that and the fact that he smelled of dust and metal with that same undercurrent of "Elf".
They also seemed to be the most "normal" of the Elves, the most Human like. Not that looking Human was a bad thing.
When you end up being murdered, transmogrified into a nonhuman species, dropped onto an alien planet in an alternate reality, a little humanity can go a long way.
When I asked him about taking telekinesis instead of telepathy he just shrugged and said he liked being tall more than liked having the starting bonus for telekinesis.
I did remember something about Quickens (their version of Halflings) getting starting bonus for telekinesis.
Not that I knew much about Quickens. Or the other Neon races. Okay, I didn't know anything about them except their basic information. What I learned from hearsay and personal experience.
Trolls (Betas): A high bonus to Vitality. A strong bonus to Endurance. And a lesser bonus to Strength.
Neons Trolls were pretty human looking. If that human had pointed ears, was tall, grey skinned with a body of an Olympic athlete.
Their features were all aristocratically handsome with inhumanly sharp lines and sharper points.
Ogres (Deltas): A high bonus to Strength. A strong bonus to Vitality. And a lesser bonus to Endurance.
Ogres looked a bit like Dwarves, except eight or nine feet tall. They were massively wide and seemed to be designed for heavy labor or as mobile walls.
Almost all of them were tanks, bodyguards and protectors. Generally supporting
and defending rather than attacking.
Quicken (Omegas): A high bonus to Mental Fortitude. A strong bonus to Dexterity. And a higher starting level to the Telekinesis specialization.
Quickens looked like they were rejected from Neverland for being too wild and crazy.
Every Subadult who stopped ageing around twelve or thirteen seemed to pick Quicken as their go to race.
If it weren't for the Neon Elf ears and the too experienced eyes, you would think they were just latchkey kids hopped up on too many energy drinks.
I forgot to mention that those from Neon have, well, neon bright eyes. Eyes that glow when they use their power.
Why? I have absolutely idea.
Cashus and I were talking about the fundamental differences between Force magic and telekinesis. He thought that Force magic was about drawing on the magic that exists in all things and shaping it through your will.
I got the impression that most of those from Neon didn't bother reading up on how magic worked since the vast majority were sticking with psionic abilities.
I learned that telekinesis worked pretty much the way Cashus thought Force magic worked. Except it didn't need a resource, you could use it until your head exploded if you wanted.
But then your head would have exploded so…
"Your head explodes?" I asked.
"Not literally explodes but, yeah, it can kill you if you overextend yourself."
As we talked the two new Centaurs who had come forward to take point slowed down to walk beside us.
The Centaurs were a little standoffish at first but now they seemed curious.
When Cashus started talking to the other Neon Elf the dark furred feline Centaur introduced herself as Guard Talisil “Call me Talis” and a taller, wider, all around bigger, brown coated one named Guard Mervin
“My name is Mervin. Please do not call me Merv. Or Murphy. Or Vinny. It is Mervin. Just. Mervin."
I was pondering the existence of “Mervin The Centaur” when Cashus pulled something out his bag, unwrapped the paper around it, and took a bite out of it.
My eyes widened at the sight, a sudden realization making me stop dead.
Aeria saw the same thing I did and started screaming, “Ah! Ahhh! Look! Look! Look!"
Cashus stopped walking and froze in the middle of taking a bite as everyone turned to look at him.
“He's eating.” Tahaniria said, confused.
“Yes!” Aeria yelled, eyes wide. "He's eating! We. Can. Eat. Things.”
For a second everyone just looked at her uncomprehendingly, then all at once, we understood. Everyone but the Centaurs of course.
“We can eat food!” One girl shrieked ecstatically.
“Foooood…” Tahaniria moaned and licked her lips.
“Where! What! When? What is it?” Taren grabbed Cashus and started shaking him. "How did you get it?!”
“Uh," the Elf blinked several times before saying, "My bag? Hardtack. When I checked my inventory. Saw it.”
The Dwarf shoved the startled Elf away from him and dug into his own bag.
We all were, I had my hand in my bag thinking, "Food food fooooood!" and when I felt something at my fingertips I grabbed it like a drowning man grabbing a buffet table.
I pulled it out and the smell of it, the knowledge of what it was, of what I held in my hands made me fall to my knees.
Aeria had the paper ripped off and a large chunk stuffed into her mouth. She did a little dance, her cheeks puffed out and crumbs fell from her lips.
Tahaniria was licking hers and moaning. The sight and sounds of those actions would have entranced every male and a few females under normal circumstances.
Taren stared at his own food reverently for several seconds before slowly, oh so slowly, lifting it, higher and higher until it reached his lips.
Then, still slowly, he took a bite, held it in his mouth, chewed for a long time and swallowed before saying, “I think I just had a foodgasm.”
Vicious was deliberately and methodically biting off a tiny piece at a time, not opening his eyes for a single moment.
I held mine cradled in my hands, drinking in the smell of it as I murmured, “My preeeecious…”
“I don't… I don't know what's going on here,” David said, “Does anyone know what's going on here? I would really like to know what's going on here.”
The Centaurs looked on in confusion as we all essentially lost our minds amid ecstatic sounds of inappropriate delight.
Cashus took pity on the disturbed Centaurs, explaining how we had been forced to eat a thick, tasteless, gooey substance, and only that substance for years. And that this hardtack, was the first real food they had eaten for a long, long time.
Cashus smiled. "I had the forethought to check my interface before doing anything else. Although it did almost cost me my life when I was attacked by one of those… whatever they're called."
“Whatsits,” David put in. "They're called Whatsits.”
“Okay… That's… a name… I guess.”
As Cashus answered a few follow up questions we eventually got a hold of ourselves and finished eating.
“Did none of you check your inventory?” Cashus asked.
We all looked at each other sheepishly before summoning our individual interfaces.
Luckily David warned the others about Soul Tomes so they didn't freak out. Much.
Those from Neon didn't do anything but stand and stare off into space but I noticed their eyes glowing slightly.
I flipped through the book, past abilities, spells, skills and the journal portions before I found the inventory list, all the way in the back.
It showed a weight limit rather than a space limit and a few spiraling words denoting stored items.
I had a rusty dull dagger (Huh, it really said that), a bundle of contract papers (why?), 20 copper coins (better than nothing), 48 Burning Whatsit Ember Eyes (wait, what?).
I read it again. And again. And there it was. In the description. Whatsit Eyes.
“That… can’t. Aeria, hey, uh, how many Whatsit eyes do you have?”
She peered into her own interface and said, “Eighty two. “
“Are you sure? What does it say exactly.”
“Eighty Two Burning Whatsit Ember Eyes. All capitalized. Why?”
“Well that makes it official. Officially what, I have no clue,” I muttered to myself and then at a louder volume I said, "Nothing! just checking."
I asked Talis, who was closest, if she knew anything about contracts and she said, "Contracts are written on enchanted paper and written in alchemical ink to bind the soul with blood and magic."
Contracts, it turned out, took the place of several basic game mechanics. Like when grouping up into a party, a contract could be used to share essence equally.
They are used to group up, to let party members sense whether the others were hurt and where each of them were.
To send each other their thoughts in order to communicate more easily during battle or over distance. And to share and receive experience depending on participation.
They are used to give quests with rewards ranging from money, items and even essence. Though the last is usually reserved for the hardest quests.
They are also used in trading, treaties, alliances, establishing guilds, conveying citizenship or with taxes and tithes.
"Wait, wait." I held my hands up in a 'Hold Up' gesture. "We have to pay taxes?"
"Well of course."
I had the mental image of an enormous, all seeing fiery eye at the top of a huge black tower with a sign all the way at the bottom, above a door saying "IRS HEADQUARTERS".
"Great." My tone may have been less than enthusiastic.
"Pardon me for butting in," a Neon Elf butted in, "but I just wanted to clarify that there are taxes and a tithe."
"And you are? Besides the guy I specifically remembered calling me 'worthless'."
He flushed a bit and spoke all in a rush. "Yes, I insulted you and spoke ou
t of anger and lashed out and I will strive to rise above in the future. Okay?"
"You didn't sound very sincere… you sounded like you were in a hurry to placet me."
"Rust and Dust man! Yes! I am in a hurry because traditionally a tithe is ten percent of your earnings and that plus the rusting taxes is a huge amount of money! We need to know how much we're being squeezed for!"
I stared at him for a few seconds as I processed the whole taxes plus tithe information then yelled, "Then why are you wasting your time apologizing to me! We have more important things to worry about!"
By this time all the Fallen were intently watching the uncomfortable Talis as she explained. "Well, taxes are just a percentage of money earned, to oversimplify things. But the tithe isn't actually money."
She paused before continuing. "The tithe is a percentage of any essence earned."
The response from the Fallen in regards to this was… not positive. There was a lot of "Blood and Suffering Gods! Down with the government!" and "Light and Love! You can’t be serious!" along with "Love and Shadow! Noooo!" or "Rust and Dust! You can have my experience when I'm dust and rust!".
I looked around at the various variations of vexation, shrugged and dropped to my knees. I raised my hands to the sky and screamed at the top of my lungs in an overly dramatic fashion. "Why?! Why Gods why?! Why must my poor gamers soul be crushed under the weight of things that may have a perfectly good reason to exist?! Why?!"
I multitasked. Screaming in horror on the outside. While on the inside I idly wondered what those from Rath swore by. I couldn't recall them ever doing so.
The adults mainly swore by excrement, fornication and body parts. On the Outside Sudadults mainly yelled things like, "Inconvenience!" or "Inconsiderate!" or "Frustration!" or "Crab Nuggets!".
That last one may of just been me, though.
I abruptly realized I was the only one still making noise. I stopped, looked around at the faces looking down at me and said in a calm voice, "Oh. We're done? Okay."
I jumped to my feet, smiled cheerfully at the confused Talis and politely said, "Please. Continue."
She hesitated, looking at me askance before explaining. "The... tithe... had originally been ten percent but that was long ago. Today it varies but is usually around two percent. It also only applies to citizens. If you're a citizen of a town, village or city then you contribute to the tithe. Non citizens don't but they miss out on the benefits of being a citizen.
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