Chapter 8
I am not an Ass
Rance had never killed a man before. Sure, it wasn’t really killing, but it sure felt like it. They had done a decent job teaching him how to do it in the military. He had served his time, done his duty, but he had been a REMF during his two tours overseas.
Sure, he wasn’t really a REMF but close enough. He worked logistics. Rance had a slight hitch in his git-a-long from a teen motorcycle accident, and while it didn’t keep him out of the military, it did keep him from an active combat role, so he had gone into logistics.
Blackjack Pershing had said “Soldiers win battles, but logistics win wars.” So if Rance couldn’t be a proper soldier he was damn well gonna help win the war.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t experienced incoming. There was always the possibility of rockets, motors, or artillery even in the rear. Just like the mortar round that landed in the wash bay of the motor pool his first week in country. After that he knew he wasn’t in Kansas anymore.
He had even put rounds down range in anger. He was part of a motorcade that had come under a long-range ambush from across a valley. He had unassed the truck he was in and put rounds on the opposing hillside until air support had cleaned up the mess.
But that was different. The enemy wasn’t sitting on his chest trying to choke the life out of him. This was more like a crime than combat. He reminded himself that it wasn't real. Old Bill was off somewhere right now, probably trying to murder someone else. In the end it was just a game.
Rance mused on this as he sipped on his third cup of tea. He got a notification telling him his HP had fully recovered.
“System?” He said.
“Yes” came the reply.
“Is there any advantage to continue consuming herbs after I am done healing?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Rance waited. And he waited some more. “What no explanation?” he finally said.
“There are many in game benefits to consuming harvested herbs.” The system said. “For example, if you were to be injured after finishing the tea in your pot you would heal at an increased rate without having to ingest more.”
“Are there more benefits?” He pressed “Like will it help me gain levels faster?”
“There are over 6782 specific benefits that I am aware of.” The system replied, “And yes, active ingested healing is a small part of the algorithm for figuring experience. To ensure fairness, I will not explain further.”
Rance whistled “Over 6000.” He said downing the last of his tea from his small pot. “I need a cup, or maybe a noggin but that can wait.”
Rance decided to explore up the valley away from the spawn point. He cleaned up his camp area, made sure his fire was out, slung the two noob packs over his shoulder and started up the valley with his walking stick.
He decided he wanted to get farther away from the spawn point so that he didn’t have a repeat of the previous night's activities. Then he thought of something.
“System, why is this spawn point here when you said people respawn far away from where they were killed to prevent spawn camping?”
“There is not a fixed spawn point in this valley.” The system said. “The spawn point is generated randomly within a globally small but locally large area for each insertion.”
“Wonderful,” Rance said “You know what they say when you assume things.”
“I am not an ass.” The system said.
Rance laughed out loud. “You have a sense of humor after all.” He said.
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“I am merely communicating on a level that is calculated to be agreeable to you.”
“So, you want to be my buddy? May pal?” Rance said sarcastically.
“The part of myself that interacts with each player, learns that players' preferences, habits, foibles, patterns, style, nature, routine…”
“SYSTEM!” Rance growled.
“As I predicted,” the system said. “You were annoyed by my thesaural references, but you prefer companions with a sarcastic attitude similar to your own, so I accommodated.”
“...and only on the second day. Am I that predictable?”
“You must realize that I have direct access to your mind and memories. In addition, I am constantly compiling your thoughts and reactions.”
Rance sighed “Can you tell what I am thinking now?”
“I’m sorry, that is not physically possible.”
“If it ever becomes so,” Rance said, “make sure you do it.”
Rance continued following the stream up the valley, calling out different plants, bushes and trees to the system as he went. He was excited to find some of the few mushrooms he knew. He harvested chicken of the woods, pheasant back, oyster, chanterelle, morel, and puff balls using up six of his eight available slots in his noob packs. Rance hoped Beulla would buy the mushrooms.
Rance took a break at what he guessed was noon. He picked a nice shady spot next to a boulder. And sat down. He was very tired, and he guessed his noob status was to blame.
“System,” he said.
“Yes?”
“How can I raise my stats without having to go and find things to kill?”
Rance had been seeing various forms of game on his trek up the valley but didn’t want to try a repeat performance of his veldt hare experience.
“Yes,” the system replied, ”every productive thing you do gains you experience points as well as skill points in the appropriate area.”
“Sooo, practicing with my staff?”
“Yes.”
“Exercise?”
“Yes.”
“Relearning my skills in this world?”
“Yes.”
“Have I gained anything from picking mushrooms?”
“Yes.”
“How about tying a knot? I have an awful time tying my rope belt, and I don’t even want to think about these stupid sandals.” He said.
“Yes.”
“So, if I understand you correctly,” Rance said slowly, his brain churning on this information.”I could set up a camp as a homebase and work on my wilderness skills forever.”
“Technically, yes.”
“Why “technically”?”
“From what I have ascertained so far, you would get restless and bored before you reached forever.”
“Would you knock it off with the smart-ass stuff, at least until I am used to this place.” Rance gritted out.
“I will attempt to reign in my humor.”
Rance rolled his eyes and stood up from where he had been resting. He spied a small spruce tree not far off that was about his height and walked over to it, taking his staff but leaving the packs on the ground where he had dropped them.
He squared off facing the spruce holding his staff in a cross-guard position. As fast as he was able to accurately manage, he started swinging at the tree. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, repeat one, two, three…
Rance continued until he was tired again but didn’t get any notifications.
He returned to his resting place by the boulder and leaned his back against it.
He snorted and he awoke.
“Crap! I can’t do that.” he said to himself. “I could wake up dead!”
The sun had moved past its zenith, but he judged there were still several hours until sunset.
He had to admit he did feel rested after his little unplanned nap, so he picked up his packs and walking stick and continued up the valley.
He hadn’t gone very far when He saw the first beaver pond.
“Beavers!” He said out loud. “I love beaver trapping, and fishing the ponds, and trapping the other fur animals attracted by beavers and their ponds.”
“System!”
“Yes!”
“When does the fur get prime in this area so I can start trapping?”
“The fur in Otherworld is always prime.” The system answered.
“Back up, I’m lost again.” Rance said. “How can the fur always be prime, there are natural cycles?”
“You must remember that I control nature in this world. There are no seasons.”
“Wait, wait now you really lost me.”
“Otherworld contains endless climate variety. You may travel to any climate you find pleasant. There are local weather variations such as rain, snow, and wind, but seasons don’t change.”
“What about farms?” Rance asked stunned at this crazy place.
They follow a simple plant, grow, harvest cycle that repeats itself. You may farm or plant a garden yourself if you desire.
Rance put his hands to his temples and shook his head. “Too….Much….Information.”
“Was that sarcasm?’
“Yes!” Rance growled