By the time William had found his way back to the garrison, even having to ask for directions when he hit the third cul-de-sac in a row, the sun was already dipping behind the buildings to his left, letting long streaks of orange-golden sunlight illuminate the otherwise shadow-steeped streets. At this hour, most working folks seemed to return now, judging by their attire, visible exhaustion and eagerness on their faces to reach their homes or taverns. Once again, William wished he had a sketch book at hand, as well as the time to sit down and capture these fleeting moments. But he would get to that some other time.
For now, he was far more eager to finally receive some instructions on his class and how he could proceed as an adventurer! Even the prospect of almost vomiting over the strain of merely holding a weapon wouldn’t deter him now.
Not that he was looking forward to it either.
Back at the garrison, there was no longer a queue of players seeking combat training, and as William approached the gate leading into the courtyard, the two guards barred his way by crossing their spears in front of him when it was clear he wanted to walk past them.
“Hold up there, boyo. What’s your business here? Open hours have ended almost an hour ago”, one of the guards demanded to know.
“I was told to come back here by Roland, one of the drill instructors. He wanted to teach me about my class”, William answered, slightly concerned that he might’ve taken too long to get back. Did he really miss his chance at this?
“Hah! Good one, kiddo. There’s no way that Captain Roland would willingly give private lessons to--”, the other guard barked out laughing and ridiculed William, but a sharp voice from above easily interrupted the man. There, the creased brow of drill instructor Roland aggressively stared down at them, visibly displeased with what he just heard.
“Who are you to decide what I would do, private? Let the boy in, he’s with me!”, his booming voice made them wince and retract the spears, letting William pass. “Meet me in the courtyard”, the drill instructor told him, before vanishing behind the window sill again.
With an apologetic look and a shrug, William walked past the two guards and found himself back inside the courtyard that, only a few hours ago, was packed with new players and ordinary soldiers. Now, only a handful of eager trainees remained, with their respective instructors guiding them through various exercises. And unlike the poor displays of discipline or, in Williams case, ability, these people seemed much more skilled at their tasks - although not skilled enough to avoid the harsh verbal abuse.
“So, you actually want to do this? Truth be told, I had my doubts”, the gruff voice behind William made him whirl around, as he came to face Roland, who was still wearing the visibly shiny, full suit of plate armor. Did he not sweat or get exhausted in this?
“Yes, sir! It’s what I chose for myself, so I’ll stick with it”, William replied with a nod and tried to sound serious enough. It’s not that he doubted himself, at least too much, but it was still difficult for him to maintain an earnest demeanor that was different from his usual snarky self. Forcing himself to this still felt somewhat unnatural.
“Very well. But I have to warn you, the next week with me will be an entirely uncomfortable experience, and I doubt you will enjoy most of it. However, if you stick with the lessons, you might just become the kind of fighter you aspire to be”, his otherwise harsh tone had somewhat vanished, but still remained serious.
“I’m sorry, did you say the next week? I didn’t think that it would take--”
“That it would take serious effort and time to shape you into a warrior?”, the drill instructor interrupted with a dry laugh. “Boy, your physical stats are just abysmal, and before I could even consider you for any job that requires those, I’ll have to get you into shape. And unless you really apply yourself beyond my training, you’ll need a week just to get those stats in order. One point per day in each stat, and with your Strength at four, that’ll be six days before you’re able-bodied enough for more serious tasks.”
This was a twisted joke, it just had to be. Being punished with these horrible stats was bad enough, but he had to spend an entire week of playing the game just training to be considered a fighter? His knee-jerk reaction was to just logout and call it a day, repercussions be damned! But William did his best to shake himself out of that stupor, and cleared his throat to actually get a word out.
“So, uhm.. this stat training, what’ll I have to do to improve myself?”
Somehow, it seemed like Roland had expected him to shy away from this prospect, but the twinkle of quiet appreciation at his willingness disappeared after a brief moment. “It’s rather straightforward, really. For strength, you will be lifting weights for a certain amount of time, while constitution requires you to endure in ice cold water. Both need half an hour to be considered successful.”
William could only look with a dumb-founded expression. “..That’s it? Only half an hour to raise a stat? That’s the training?” Was it really that simple, or did this man only want to trick him into humiliating himself some more?
The drill instructor looked at him almost with a distasteful sneer. “Shall I remind you that merely lifting and failing to thrust a spear left you puking on the floor? It will be entirely unpleasant for the whole thirty minutes you spend on it. But that’s only thirty minutes per stat, once a day, and each day it’ll be ever so slightly easier.”
“But why only once a day? I couldn’t just do that for three hours and be done with it?”
“Even if that were possible, which it isn’t, you wouldn’t last for that long with your current stats. The strain would kill you before you would gain anything from it”, Roland told him in no unclear terms.
“Ah well, it was worth a shot. Sounds good enough. So I just come here once a day for, like, an hour to get my stats up then?”
With a mocking laughter, Roland shook his head. “You think I would take time out of my schedule to speak with you directly if that was all there is to it? I expected more from someone who wants to protect his friends.” William flushed at his words. “No, you will have to apply yourself just a little bit more to enjoy the privilege of my guidance, should you still desire to become a warrior. Otherwise, the gate is right that way”, the drill instructor said almost dismissively, as if to elicit a reaction from William.
There was no doubt in his mind that this is what he wanted, but it took him a moment to swallow the knot in his throat. “No, sir. This is still what I want to do, and I’ll go through your training, whatever that might be.” That seemed to trigger further progress in his quest he received this morning, yet what seemed so long ago already.
Quest complete! ‘Baby Steps’. You have accepted to learn under drill instructor Roland to improve yourself as a fighter. Better not shirk your duties, this guy does not fool around! Reward: One piece of class-appropriate gear, information about your class (no longer variable). Exp: 150
Something like a smile crossed the man's face as William uttered those words. “Good. I expect much from you as my pupil, but you will receive just as much in return. Starting.. with this'', Roland paused for a moment as he reached for his belt and pulled out what seemed to be a pair of simple leather gloves, handing them to William. “You will find that they should help you a great deal in the coming days.”
Reward item, perception check is automatic success! Item identified: Enduring Grips of the Trainee (Uncommon). This is a pair of gloves usually worn by full members of the guard during training sessions, decreasing stamina cost of physical actions by 20% while under the guidance of a qualified instructor. Durability: 47/50
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His inner loot hoarder was frolicking at this sight. After fruitlessly searching for just such an item during his shopping tour, now something like this was just handed to him! Then again, he would have to endure the training for this, but there really was no difference between that or grinding through a dungeon for a reward.
“Thank you, sir! These will definitely come in handy!”, William eagerly accepted the gift, after placing the jar of applesauce on the ground he had been holding this whole time, and slid his hands into slightly stiff yet comfortable leather. Surprisingly, they were a perfect fit, as if the material had just been molded right over his skin.
“I would hope so, because this is as much direct assistance I’m willing to give you. Anything else needs to come from your own commitment and accomplishments”, the gruff drill instructor shot back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “That doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to find anything that might help you in your training, but you have to find it yourself.”
“Understood, sir.” And then, after a moment of hesitation, William added: “Will you also tell me more about my class now? Earlier today, you seemed.. interested when I told you. I’m curious why such a simple class would be of any note.”
Roland chuckled at that, a somewhat misplaced sound in his otherwise stern repertoire. “You’re not entirely wrong in that opinion. If you had told any other instructor, they would’ve probably ridiculed you, since this class usually only appears to those with too much aspiration for their abilities - hence the name. Since they are not yet decided on their path, and are practically a clean slate, anything new comes easier to them, but at the same time, they also have to earn everything other classes are provided with from the start.” The drill instructor cleared his throat for a moment. “Naturally, this makes for a difficult and tedious start to one's career, and not many last long enough to see beyond it, since you gain so little with level-ups. Barely any characteristic points, not even any skill points at all, or even skills themselves. So why spend so much time, effort and resources on an unknown path with so little rewards, when much simpler and straight-forward classes are available? That’s why most Aspirants are assumed to be childish day-dreamers, who never had a portion of cold, hard reality served to them.”
William had to swallow at that description. His instructor didn’t seem to be finished yet, but it was rather disheartening to know his class had such a bad reputation.
“However, what those people fail to notice is that, unlike many other more popular classes, the Aspirant has almost no restrictions or pre-determined career. You learn new skills much faster, and can choose any skill you like, as long as you find someone to teach it to you. And while others might have a narrow, more specialized repertoire of combat abilities, you’re able to create a much more varied, flexible set of skills, able to adapt to most every situation. Mind you, this is not impossible for other classes, but a much more arduous venture for them.”
While his depictions were rather intriguing to listen to, William frowned after mulling them over for a bit, and hesitated for a moment, before speaking up. “Sir, I don’t mean any offense, but.. I’ve almost figured as much from the class description. Is that really all there is to it?”
Now it was Roland's turn to frown at him, and the corner of his mouth pulled down in disgruntlement. “Boy, you better learn some patience, or you will prove the prejudices against our class right by abandoning this path halfway through.”
Wait, did he just say-- “our class, Sir? You’re an Aspirant too?”
“Among other things. Why did you think I could give you such an account of what it means to be one of this class?”, the drill instructor retorted with a raised eyebrow, before sighing. “I suppose it is difficult to grasp when you haven’t experienced it yet, but do not underestimate the advantage we gain from both our passive abilities. In the time other classes learn one new skill, you can easily manage two, and usually reach the Beginner ranks with both before they even get their one skill that high. And that’s with. Every. New. Skill.”
Scowling at this thought, William pondered this for a moment. What he wanted was to be a frontline fighter to take the beating so his teammates could just smoke the enemy, and aside from his stats, nothing is stopping him from doing just that. But at the same time, it doesn’t even lock him out of other setups? Could he spec himself to be tanky, while at the same time being able to resort to more damaging skills? And considering Rolands position, would that be a decent enough counter-balance to his lack of stats?
After sharing his thoughts, albeit in a roundabout way without using terms from the real world, Roland gave him an appreciative nod. “You’re absolutely right in that assessment. Our diverse set of skills is our greatest advantage against foes with flat out more stats, but even that in and of itself is useless if you don’t know how to properly apply it. And that”, raising one finger as if to emphasize his point, “is what I can teach you as another fellow Aspirant. By no means should you just mimic my fighting style, but I can guide you along the way to discover and establish your own.”
William nodded along. Just copying an established build so he didn’t have to think about synergies or combos was never his cup of tea, and frankly, he thought less of anyone who did that. Seems like he didn’t make the wrong decision after all!
“But like I said, before we don’t get your characteristics in order, you won’t fare too well in combat. So we’re going to start with those”, Roland ordered and waved him along as he strode towards another section of the courtyard.
Quickly grabbing his jar of applesauce, still unable to store or hold it otherwise and he should really invest in even a small backpack, William hesitated for a moment. “What, we’re still going to train this late? It’s almost dark!” And he should really logout sooner rather than later to take care of his actual body.
“So? Do you lift weights with your eyes? Hurry up already!”, his teacher demanded, wholly indifferent to Williams complaint, as the man led his student towards what could only be described as the medieval equivalent of a gym. In one corner, an array of weights in different sizes and shapes were neatly ordered, ranging from small dumbbells to absurdly large barbells. Another corner held a series of metal tubs mounted over small ovens, although those were already extinguished and the water only gave off faint trails of steam.
“Ah, it would seem that the men responsible for the tubs have already retired for today”, Roland remarked with an audible bite in his voice, clearly displeased. “And I doubt the water will still be hot enough for training, nor would it be icy enough. Only leaves us with Strength training for today then - which has also been vacated by its overseers for today, apparently!”, another spiteful comment left his lips, and William had to swallow hard. Hopefully this wouldn’t put his instructor in too much of a foul mood.
“Well, it can’t be helped, right? How should I start?”, he tried to hurry the situation along, stepping towards the array of weights. He would have to start with the very smallest ones, no doubt.
“Right..”, still visibly unamused, Roland stood next to William. “Four strength, wasn’t it? Then take these here”, his teacher instructed and gestured towards the second pair in a series of small dumbbells, each pair ever so slightly bigger than the previous one. “They should be the ideal weight, so your stamina does not bottom out before the thirty minute mark.”
Without second-guessing his instructions, William grasped the objects in question and lifted them from their rack, huffing a bit at the sudden weight on his arms. They were a bit heavier than he expected them to be, or perhaps that was just his poor Strength stat, so he let his arms hang down at his sides, pulled down by the weight of the bells.
“Do you know how to use these?”, Roland inquired, now seemingly calmer than before from his outburst.
“I think so? Just curl them up and down like this, right?”, and with a motion that even his basement dwelling self knew, William bent his arm upward at the elbow, raising the weight until it was level with his shoulder, before letting the arm drop down again. The same motion was repeated with the other arm afterwards.
“Correct, but don’t just let your arms flop down like that! Lower the weights slowly, else you might hurt yourself, or even drop them”, Roland corrected his technique and watched closely as the pale young man was growing more and more colour in his face as the small exertion already took its toll on his body. “Keep a steady pace, not too slow and not too fast.”
“Yes.. Sir!”, William brought out between huffed breaths, focussing on a steady rhythm that hopefully allowed him to last through the training session. With a worried glance, he watched his stamina bar as it dwindled away, but to his surprise, the strain didn’t seem too much just yet. Perhaps it would indeed last him until the end.
“And remember! This is to improve your Strength, and it will only benefit you. Don’t quit halfway through just because it might get uncomfortable!”, the stern tone was much less aggressive than before, and his teacher slowly paced from side to side, never taking his eyes off of William. Truthfully, it was a little bit unnerving, but didn’t distract him too much from such simple and menial training.
Yet even though his stamina didn’t seem to completely bottom out like when he tried to thrust the spear or walk faster than crawling speed, his arms were very quickly protesting under the exertion, and his breath came in quick, laboured panting. William was already imagining how many people would be turned off by the prospect that this game required actual, palpable effort to play properly. Sure, the only reason that he was struggling so hard right now were his abysmal physical stats, but he couldn’t imagine that extended fights wouldn’t leave one out of breath and exhausted, barely able to go on.
But where would be the fun in this if he could do elaborate flips with greatswords right away?
“That’s another five minutes to go! Don’t let up, you’re almost there!”, the barking voice of his instructor pulled him out of his wandering thoughts, and William was even more aware of the burning sensation in his muscles. Gritting his teeth in his unwillingness to fail such a simple task, he pushed on, carefully maintaining his rhythm to neither overexert himself nor to let up too much.
And after counting down the last ten seconds for him, Roland gave him a clear sign to drop the weights. “Good job, lad! That brings you one point of Strength closer to the bare minimum a warrior should have!” Although William wasn’t sure whether this was supposed to be encouraging, he could only grin like a madman at the notification right in front of his face.
Characteristic point training completed! +1 to strength! This stat cannot be increased further by any means other than system rewards, study, or practice for twenty-four hours game time.
“Hell yeah!”