No way Al was working on a video game. He studied quantum physics. Maybe I triggered some kind of chemical spill, and this is some kind of hallucination? Yeah, that at least makes some sense.
After spending an hour naked and scratching my head, I realized that I can’t control the world, only my decisions in it. And I wasn’t about to get eaten by wolves; real, digital, or hallucinatory. I took one last look at the skeleton, and this time saw a prompt:
Loot Unknown Elf?
Yes/No
I’m pretty sure I took any loot already.
No
Why didn’t it give me the option the first time, when it wasn’t empty? Usually in games looting a body lets you move items from the body to your inventory. But, I don’t have an inventory, right? I guess this backpack is my inventory now.
The bag also contained Warn Common Clothes, so I put them on. They came out neatly folded, and as I started to unfold them I got another prompt:
[Put on Worn Common Clothes?]
Yes/No
Yes
My hands started moving on autopilot, and the next thing I knew I was dressed. I could have sworn I skipped some steps. I shrugged. It wasn’t the weirdest thing that happened to me today.
With the inventory still up, I spotted a second potion just like the first, and checked my health again.
The healing potion had returned about half of my health over about a minute. That put me at about 60%. And an hour of resting returned another 20% or so, but seemed to have stopped. I decided not to spend the last health potion.
I put on the belt with the sheath, which definitely held a dagger, not a knife, and made my way through the forest. It was pretty shiny for a dagger, like brand new, and had an intricate pattern etched into it. I was relieved when the forest gave way to an open field. There was even a path.
My bare feet were glad to feel the hard packed dirt. With no sign of which direction was more likely to have civilization, I pulled out one of the coins from the backpack and flipped it. Strangely, the side it landed on was blank, and so was the other side. It was completely smooth on all sides.
Something else only a gamer would pick up on; the copper coin was shiny, but not reflective. Reflections can really take up a lot of processing power. That, and the slightly smoother but bolder edges everything had were clearly design elements meant to reduce strain on the system.
Still the most amazing looking game I’ve ever seen. Or the fever dream of a gamer?
I resorted to picking a direction on my volition. In addition to the gear I was wearing, my bag contained twenty-four copper coins, which were pretty big for coins, and four silver coins of the exact same size. It also had the empty bottle from the potion I drank, two more empties, the full one, and a Minor Potion of Stamina Recovery. That last one was green. Oh, and a lot of food labeled ‘spoiled.’
[Discard Spoiled Rations x 8?]
Yes/No
Yes
With my shiny new dagger on my hip, and walking a clearly well used road, I felt a lot more confident. My gamer instincts told me to lower the threat level, even though I wasn’t at full health. I assumed a good night's sleep would fix that, but who knows. My folks seemed to think I needed constant reminders that life was not a video game. Where were they now that I actually needed the reminder?
I have no idea of the nature of this game. Will it try to kill me? Seems like it already has. And what happens when someone dies here? I felt like the answers to my questions might be in a status screen, but I couldn’t seem to activate one.
“Help? System? Character sheet?”
If I thought about my health, the health bar got a little bigger. Somehow, it was in my field of vision, but not obscuring my vision in any way. Same if I tugged at the flap of my bag. I could see its inventory filling my field of vision, but I could still see what it should be obscuring. I tried thinking about a personal inventory, or my stats, but nothing happened.
As the beautiful day turned to dusk, I realized I had no idea how safe this road would be after night fell. Less. My gamer instincts told me not to find out. I started to jog, and saw a stamina meter. I think I saw that earlier, but was too busy running for my life. Now the meter was going down quite fast.
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Low stamina was normal when starting a game. Not to mention real life, I thought embarrassingly. But I noticed a signpost up ahead, so that was a problem for another day. Before I was close enough to read it I was already entering the outskirts of a small town as the last rays of sunlight were fading into the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the quaint streets that shifted from hard packed dirt to cobblestone the farther I got.
The air was filled with the sweet aroma of wood smoke and the distant clang of metal on metal. A person, a tall and lanky man with a thick beard and weathered face, called out to me, “Stay off the roads at night, Stranger.”
Is that a threat? No, his smile told me he was offering friendly advice, so I waved and gave him a friendly smile back. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu. I’d clearly never actually been to this town, or anywhere like it. But it would be right at home in an Elder Scroll or a Zelda with its rough-hewn architecture and rugged homeyness.
As I walked deeper into the town, I noticed a short and rotund figure with a bald head and rosy cheeks, just finishing lighting magical lanterns that hung from the eaves of the buildings. His clothes looked a little too white and elegant for a small town like this, and he had a gold mask hanging from his belt. He bowed his head, as though in prayer, and another lantern flickered to life, illuminating the street in a warm and inviting glow. I couldn’t help but stare.
The animals that roamed around the town weren’t exactly like real life animals, but they were all close. Most looked like chickens, only a little bigger and a lot more curious: dangerous maybe, in the right conditions. There were a few shops too; all closed for the night. I wondered if I could afford shoes when they reopened.
As I passed by the closed stores I spotted the blacksmith working in the light given off by her forge. This was the source of the clanking, and some of the more interesting smells. I could practically taste burnt metal on my tongue. She had a determined look on her face, her muscles bulging as she worked the forge.
She was covered in soot and sweat, but there was a sense of pride and satisfaction in her eyes as she worked on whatever it was. I’d never seen an NPC with that kind of light in her eyes. Sensing my eyes on her, she looked up to meet them, without missing a rhythmic beat with her hammer. I looked away in embarrassment, and spotted the inn.
This was my destination all along, right? And there had to be one. No matter how small the town, it must have an inn, because players like me need inns. But these look like people to me, not NPC’s.
Before entering, I was already greeted by the warm glow of a fire and the smell of delicious food. I tried to quiet my annoying brain, and pushed open the door. I stepped into the well lit tavern, my bare feet padding against the wooden floorboards. Is this a no shoes, no shirt, no service kinda situation? I spotted a pair of big dirty feet under a nearby table and shrugged.
The air was thick with hops and roast… something. The other patrons barely spared me a glance as I made my way to the bar. A man in the corner played a lyre, his fingers barely grazing the strings, the sound discordant and off-key. That was probably why he was only using it to punctuate his storytelling. Which was probably also bad, judging by the way the patrons paid him little attention, talking over him as they drank from tall wooden mugs.
Approaching the bar, I was taken aback by the hulk of a man tending it. His skin was rough and leathery, and two sharp looking tusks protruded from his lower jaw. He noticed my attention and a scowl crossed his face. He leaned in with a murderous look, pausing to make sure I got the message, then laughed, a deep rumbling sound.
“Adventurers are always welcome in the Wandering Stag. The name’s Gorg. What’ll it be, traveler?”
“Oh. Right. What do you… recommend?”
Instead of answering, he poured me a drink in a wooden mug that looked like everyone else’s; mead, I guess. I’d never had it before, but it tasted mostly like the swill you find in red solo cups at every party I’d been dragged to. Not that that was my biggest concern right now. Whatever I had smelled cooking was an animal, but he sold me bread and cheese.
I spent a little longer taking in the other patrons, noting their rough and battle-worn appearances. They were a motley crew of what looked like warriors, hunters, traders, but mostly townsfolk. Some were deep in conversation, their voices raised in laughter or argument. Others sat alone, nursing their mugs lost in thought.
As I ate, my health meter inched up. Good to know that’s an option for recovering health. I cleared my throat, “Do you get people coming through here who… don’t understand local customs?”
“Like, Elves?” he asked, “Yeah, but they’re harmless. They order the bread too. They like real thick bread.”
I had no idea how else to ask about other player characters. So I gave up. “Ah, thanks. How much for a room for the night?”
The drink, bread, and cheese were each a copper coin, and the room was five. The ‘good rooms’ would be a silver, but they were all taken. Not that I have it to spare anyways. I put down a silver clinking against the rough-hewn wooden counter, which reminded me of the blankness of the coins. He gave me back two copper and pointed to a wooden door off the main hall.
“Who is in charge of this area? Like, the ruler?”
“Edion’s the mayor. You’ll find him light’n’ the lamps ‘bout now.”
“I mean, like a king or something.”
“We’re close nuf to the spire that everyone just follows Lady Cerafina.” He pointed to a large painting of a knight over the doorway. The figure wore golden armor, with long red hair waving horizontally in the breeze like a flag. She didn’t look like a ruler, she looked like a paladin.
“And no one decided to print her face or seal or something on the coins?”
He looked at me like I was an alien. Oops. “If someone starts messin’ with the natural shape of coins people are gonna start to wonder if they’re real.”
I nodded sagely like I got it. Natural shape of coins? Just one more mystery, and I don’t want to show all of my ignorance yet. Exhausted, I thanked the bartender, and wished him good night, before I made my way to the door indicated.
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