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‘Make friends, be myself?’
Commoner knelt down on top of a rock in the city park in the same pose as the Thinker while contemplating the last words Sasha had said to him before she left. She hadn’t told him her avatar’s name so he couldn’t contact her through private message or add her as a friend. She hadn’t specified what she meant by make friends either, he had friends in his class. Sure they didn’t go out much, or at all or hang out. But he still considered them to be friends.
‘What did she mean?’
“When you’re worried about something or not sure how to go about it, the first thing you have to do is just give it a go.”
For some reason the words of his acting instructor popped into his mind. The balding, middle-aged man had always given Andross good advice and it made sense that as Commoner he could take full advantage of it. The advice which had guided him through his career would now serve him in this new world.
*Growl*
Satiety -5%. Total Satiety -45%
‘But first I have to find somewhere to eat.’
He stretched his arms into the air as he stood up and quickly covered his face. He hadn’t found a mask yet and he wasn’t naïve enough to think that nobody would recognise him. He had tried looking in stores for masks right after Sasha had left but since they were an accessory that gave stat boosts they were all out of his price range.
Suddenly he noticed a peculiarity on the floor. The dirt was oddly textured in some parts. He reached down to pick at the odd texture and found himself holding an old handkerchief which had long turned into the same colour as the ground on which it lay.
You have picked up item: rag. Description: A rag which was dropped on the floor by an inhabitant of the city. This item will not lead into any quests.
‘This item will not lead into any quests.’
Commoner looked at the message on the screen perplexed. Then he remembered a conversation his friends had once had in class. They had mentioned that one of the interesting features of Best of Best was that every item you picked up would tell you if it would be necessary to activate a quest or had a chance to lead to the activation of a quest.
Of course, they had complained, the items themselves did not always tell the player how they affected a quest or which quest they affected so for all the user knew the quest could be on the other side of the continent. Picking up a quest item was the cause of much sorrow for a player because they would either have to fill their limited inventory with the item or else drop a potentially profitable object.
‘This quest system seems interesting.’
Andross had gone on numerous quests before. But those had all been in movies and television series. Commoner looked at the message for a second longer and guessed that these quests would be the same as they were in his acting jobs.
He grabbed both sides of the rag and wrapped it around his forehead so that the cloth formed a triangle that just barely covered his eyes brows and the sides of the cloth fully covered his ears. He had learnt from years of wearing disguises that if his ears and eyebrows were covered there was only a slim chance that he could be distinguished from any other black haired, hazel eyed guy.
You have equipped item: rag
He walked over to a bird pond that lay near him and stared at his reflection. After adjusting the rag a tiny bit he nodded to himself and gave his image a wink. He walked down the north side of the city square. While looking for masks he had traversed down all the major streets, one for north, south, east and west, and found a restaurant that was cheap enough for beginners to eat there with the limited funds they were given.
“Inventory: Money.”
You have cash: 50C
Like all new players he had been given fifty coppers to spend. As far as he was aware there were three types of currency in the world, copper, silver and gold coins. The money system was simple, a hundred copper coins equaled one silver coin and a hundred silver coins equaled one gold coin.
Commoner stood in front of the restaurant, aptly named The Beginners Joint, and stared at the rusty metal door that looked it might unhinge and run a metal splinter through his body if he touched it. The wall of the establishment wasn’t much better with the motley yellow paint job peeling so badly that half the wall had already reverted to a gray colour due to some sort of adhesive being put behind the paint.
‘I guess they can’t afford to be aesthetically pleasing.”
He sighed and pushed the doors forward. He walked into a surprisingly pleasant room with several players sitting around wooden tables and laughing as they drunk and ate.
A waitress was rushing between tables to take orders from and to the customers. A derelict piano lay on the corner of the room and next to it was a brick chimney that was holding a hearty fire roaring within its jaws. If not for the lack of music and a slight stale smell in the air he wouldn’t have believed that the building he had entered was the one he had seen from outside.
He pulled up a chair and sat alone at the back of the room. The piano was within arm’s reach just as he had intended it to be. He had always had an affinity for any type of musical instrument and he was also known to sing a pretty tune once in a while if the producers of the film paid him enough. It wasn’t long before the waitress came up to take his order.
‘What can I get for you today?”
She was a pretty girl with fair hair curled into twin tails at the sides of her head. He couldn’t tell whether she was a computerised person or user but he had decided that he would treat both types of people the same way. He flashed his award winning smile at her and she returned it with a smile of her own.
“I’ll take the steak and chips.”
As expected of a cheap restaurant, they had the sorts of foods you would buy in any old eatery. The Marcades is a landlocked continent so all cattle wrought meats were available for cheap prices whereas any type of fish cost far more than its weight in gold. The steak and chips were put in front of him along with some extra onions and salt added to the mix. The waitress left him with a wink and he flashed another smile at her for the extra serving.
As he ate his satiety bar filled to full and he could physically feel his stomach bloating. He sighed in contentment and checked the time using the menu clock. He had spent a good four hours lounging around since the end of the tutorial and since the time pace was 4:1 in the game that meant that only one hour had passed in real life.
‘I’m going to have to talk to Sasha about this afterwards.’
He hadn’t been willing to admit it at first, but in the four hours that he had been thinking about Sasha’s words to him, he had slowly come around to the idea of starting a new life in a world where he was unknown. Just like his name suggested, he had become a commoner just like any other person and he was enjoying every minute of it.
It was a weekend so he would be safe to play the game as much as he wanted. Even if he didn’t come home he doubted his parents or sister would notice. They were out most days and he had stayed over at Sasha’s for weeks on end without them noticing his absence. He was a hundred percent sure that Sasha would let him stay over for as long as he needed. Her double king sized bed was surprisingly snug once you got used to the unnecessarily large proportions of it.
‘Hey you.’
A man wearing a cowboy hat and sporting the biggest horseshoe moustache Commoner had ever seen approached his table. With a squashed, pudgy nose and dull brown eyes the moustache added a little bit of class to his otherwise plain face. Commoner casually waved his hand at the man and greeted him.
‘How can I help you?’
‘I see that yous the kind of man dit knows his way round a piano.’
Commoner had encountered so many promoters and managers in his life that he knew instantly what the man was trying to say. He had seen Commoner looking at the piano with the eyes of someone that knew how to play it.
‘Would I be correct in assuming that you are the owner of this fine establishment?’
The man tipped his hat towards Commoner, “T. j. Barnacus at yer service.” He pointed at the piano, “I used to play this little beauty meself but the old fingers just ain’t what they used ta be. How about you play us a little tune?”
Commoner hesitated, he normally asked to be paid before he played the piano unless it was a social or informal occasion. He looked around at the various players that were either too busy flipping coins into the air or eating to care about him.
‘I guess this is as informal as it gets.’
He nodded and the man grinned, the bars of his moustache leapt into the air at the gesture.
He put his fingers and played the first tune that came to his head. It wasn’t the sort of gay jingle with jumpy rhythm you would expect to be played in this sort of establishment. It was a slow tune, it started softly with a hint of sadness then slowly quickened in pace and became a song of both sorrow and hope, finally, the hope overtook the sorrow and the piano slowed again but this time the air filled with the sound of happiness. He finished and found that T. J Barnacus was looking at him with watery eyes. The patrons at the tables and even the waitress were staring at him.
“That der was the most beautiful tune this ol’ man had ever heard played on that there piano.”
To his surprise Barnacus immediately swept him into a big hug and a slow clap began, starting with the waitress and slowly spreading to the other customers, users and computer generated people alike were clapping his performance and calling for beers to celebrate.
“What’s the name of dat there song?”
The owner exited the hug and Commoner looked in surprise at Barnacus, the man seemed to be switching his accent and words in places. It was like he was a bad actor that was trying to pretend to be something when he had never heard the genuine article. He was clearly one of those computer generated people, his friends had called them NPC’s, but it wasn’t Commoners place to make a comment about the accent. He smiled at the teary eyed man in front of him.
“The name of the song is My True Self.”
“My True Self.” T. J Barnacus exhaled a breath full of emotion as he repeated Commoners words.
“Tell me lad.” He looked at Commoner, “how would you like to work at our fine establishment?”
You have been offered a job: The Beginner’s Joint Pianist. Stat Increase: None, Pay: 1 silver a song.
Commoner glanced at the window that popped up in front of him but kept his gaze firmly on the owners face.
“When facing a potential job you never, ever look away from the employers face.”
The words of his acting instructor once again resounded in his mind and he shook his head at the owner. The man’s moustache looked as sorrowful as his face did. Jobs on Best of Best were a dime a dozen. Although classes were only available at level 10, jobs were available from the beginning and even though a silver coin a song seemed like a good deal it was simply a trap for young and inexperienced players to enter into. Once they accepted the job they would find it difficult to leave and even if they did they wouldn’t be able to branch off into any other meaningful jobs without raising their level like everybody else. Effectively it was a dead end job that would just waste his time if he accepted it.
“I’m sorry good sir, but I have many other adventures to be held and much more of the world to explore. Perhaps once I am done I can come back here to join you?”
Commoner left the question hanging in the air and Barnacus wiped his eyes.
‘I understand lad, I was an adventurer once upon a time meself. There will always be a place for you in my fine restaurant.”
He lifted something out of his pocket and pressed it into Commoners hands, “Dis is something from my old adventuring days. It belonged to a pal of mine and that piano belonged to him. He would be more than glad for a sprity yung’n like you to have it.” Commoner thanked him. He still couldn’t place what kind of accent the man was trying to maintain, it sounded like a mix between old man and country or seaside native. A window popped up.
You have received the item: Shadow’s Symbol. Stats: None, Weight: 0.01kg, Description: An old symbol belonging to the mercenary Shadow. This item will lead to a quest.
‘A quest item!’
He thanked the owner and left hurriedly. His makeshift bandana would easily fool people that weren’t looking closely but under the close scrutiny of the players wanting to know who this mysterious pianist was it wouldn’t disguise him for long. He looked around and saw that the street was fairly empty. It wouldn’t surprise him if Sasha had chosen a sparsely populated city so that he could walk around freely and with less chance of being discovered.
‘So you’re the new recipient of Shadow’s Symbol.’
A voice called out to him and he turned his head to face the new arrival. A figure cloaked in black was approaching him from the city square and from the actions of the people around it he realised they couldn’t see it. Not only that, just like the angel Pheltos from the tutorial the cloaked figure was speaking directly into his mind.
“Who are you?”
‘Rather than questioning who I am, should you not be helping him?’
“Him? Who do you mean?’
The cloaked figure lifted his hands towards Commoner and he was assaulted by images. A man wearing a black mask was being assaulted by baby treants outside of the city boundaries. He wasn’t sure how he knew where the person was but he could picture the location clearly in his mind and when he thought about it the directions popped up instantly in his head. When the images disappeared and his eyes cleared the cloaked figure was gone. Although he hadn’t been given a quest he could sense that there was a time limit in how long he could wait before the man he saw died. He looked towards the northern gate of the city where just beyond the man was being assaulted in a secluded spot by the baby treants.
‘Status window open’ He simply had to think the words in his mind for the status window to pop up in front of him.
Status ScreenNameCommonerLevel1Health100Mana100Free Stat Points0Stamina10Strength10Agility10Vitality10Dexterity10Intelligence10Wisdom10
Despite all that had happened in the five hours he’d been online he was still level one. He couldn’t even be sure that the baby treants were at the same level as the one in the tutorial. He had also had a sword back then. He looked around him and saw no swords lying around on the floor.
‘I could try fighting them barehanded.’
His parents had made him spend years training in martial arts both bare handed and weapon oriented so that he could do his own stunts during films. He had taken to the various styles like a fish in water and as a result of doing his own stunts his reputation had soared during his early career days. But the monsters of Best of Best were different to real life hooligans. It was possible that his skills weren’t as strong and his hits as powerful as they were in real life. The critical hit with the sword had simply been his proficiency with weapons at work.
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Although the timer in his mind wasn’t telling him the exact seconds he had left he sensed that he had about fifteen minutes until the man died under the assault. It would take him five minutes to reach the man and that left him ten minutes to find some sort of weapon.
‘Maybe I could ask someone around here.’
He shook his head as soon as the thought entered his mind. It was more than unlikely that a player would give a beginner a weapon for free and after eating he didn’t have any money left. He could get a weapon and even team members if he revealed who he was but he was avoiding that route at all costs.
‘I’ll have to think of something on the way there.’
He ran towards the north gate and the guards barely glanced at him as he passed by, there was no level restriction in going outside since you were considered responsible for your own life. Now that he thought about it, that was one of the other strange features his friends had mentioned. A player was given 10 ‘free’ deaths in which there were no penalties incurred for dying. However, like the items stating whether or not they would pertain to a quest this was another double edged sword. In Best of Best the number times a player has died is recorded and displayed for all NPC’s to see. Based on this statistic an NPC would be able to decide whether or not they wanted to give a quest to a player or whether they deemed them ‘unsuitable’ for the quest because they had died too many times.
Even the high end quests that had been discovered had been affected by this death counter and so many people were in a hurry to avoid the same problems as the first generation of players who had simply gone into dangerous situations without fear and died, only to find they could no longer continue quests or gain access to new quests.
I lowered my hand towards the ground as the baby treants came into my sight. I picked up a lengthy stick with my hand.
You picked up the item: Stick. Stats: +1 damage, Weight: 0.3kg, Description: A stick which was lying on the ground until you picked it up. It does not lead into any quests.
‘It’ll have to do.’
A good point about the message system was that the words changed constantly when you picked up items. It added a sense of novelty and originality to the messages you were given, instead of the usual gaming messages that simply repeated the same lines over and over.
He stared at the baby treants. They were completely occupied in attacking the helpless man on the ground. He hadn’t had the chance to examine their attack pattern during the tutorial but he could see that the roots that made up their bodies were elongating and stabbing at the man’s body every two seconds.
Commoner looked at the first treant as he ran towards it and once the monster struck the dying man he quickly darted in slashed at it with the stick. It bounced backwards but the roots had reverberated and most of the damage had dissipated before the baby treant could be seriously injured. He peeked to his side but the other two creatures were still attacking the man. The timer in Commoners mind had gone backwards and was telling him that he had another twenty minutes to save the man. Clearly his interference had bought him much need time.
*Gatcha*
Gatcha! You have been hit by a tree root. Health -5. Current Health: 95/100
The message window spoke out to him and introduced itself with the same squeal that the treant had made when attacking him. During battle it would speak to the player rather than pop up in front of him since it could block their view of important movements.
Two seconds passed and he jumped to the side to avoid the roots. It was a simple pattern, he would dodge the attack and dart in to hit the treant a couple of times and right before the two seconds were up he would jump back and step to the side to avoid being hit in the counterattack.
*Gatchi~ gatchi~*
The monsters death cries rung out in his ears and the darkness inside it dissipated into the air like it had in the tutorial.
Gatchi! You have slain a baby treant. Exp: 10% Total Exp until next level: 90%
Another difference between Best of Best and other virtual reality games was that the messages delivered to player dictated the amount of experience gained in terms of percentage in its default setting. This could be changed to numbers if the player wanted it that way or the user could simply open up his status window to see the total number of exp points until the next level.
Commoner turned towards the next baby treant and repeated the same process. The mental timer wasn’t a problem anymore as he knew he would finish a long time before it ran out. He readied his stick and struck the creature. He dodged its attack and the intricate dance of death began once again between the monster and the human.
*Gatchi~*
The death cry of the final treant echoed in the air and it disappeared to follow in the footsteps of its two fallen brothers. Commoner stared at the man on the floor, he didn’t look like anyone important and he couldn’t have been terribly strong if he hadn’t been able to fight off a few baby treants that even a level one could handle. As if sensing his stare on his back the man groaned and turned over. Blood was trickling down his chest from a hole in his heart. It pooled onto the grass and next to the blood was the same black mask that Commoner had seen in the vision.
‘Well that explains why he couldn’t fight the monsters.’
Despite the rather brutal scene in front of him Commoner stayed in a calm state of mind. As Andross he had once seen a stunt man brutally mutilated in front of him as a scene involving a wood chipper went horribly wrong. He had been disturbed for several weeks and production of the film had been forced to halt because of his conduct. Since then he had been forced to accept that terrible injuries were an inevitable thing in the world and he watched videos of several horrific injuries so that the next time he saw one in front of him he would be able to keep a calm composure. The man coughed and blood spurted out of his mouth and wound.
“So, the shade has sent you to me. That must mean that you carry my symbol.”
‘Shade? Does he mean that figure cloaked in black? So this is Shadow.’
Commoner nodded and Shadow gestured for him to come closer. Commoner knelt down next to the man and leant towards him to hear his words clearly. He placed his stick into his inventory.
“I am dying. As the man chosen by the shade would you please hear this old man’s story?”
Commoner nodded wordlessly. He had experienced this very same scenario countless time while doing historical dramas and even action movies. Except the man in front of him sounded more genuine than even the greatest of co-stars he had acted alongside.
“I thank you. My story,” he coughed some more blood out and his hands gripped tightly on the Velcro shirt Commoner was wearing, “Begins like any other, myself and two of my closest friends set out to find adventure in the great world of Anteus. We had dreams, big ones, we would become mercenaries and explore the world while slaying monsters.” He coughed out more blood but his mouth broke out into a smile, “Those were good times, the three of us slew monsters and slowly got stronger. We gained a reputation we did, we were invited to more dangerous tasks and we flew into the new fights offered to us, revelled in the challenges that seemed beyond our abilities to complete. We were three country bumpkins, seeing the world through the eyes of adventure and falling in love with the open plains. It was around that time that the three of us received those things.”
He pointed weakly towards the black mask lying on the floor, “The masks of the mercenary kings, known as the Seven Masks, out of seven available spots we had been offered over half of them. One of us, young Barnacus, left us to open up a restaurant and handed his position to a successor. I gave him the symbol you have on you as a token of our friendship. It was just me and him left to travel down the path of the mercenary,” Spittle filled with blood filled the air as Shadow practically spat out the word ‘him’ with such venom that Commoner was drawn aback, “We were renowned across the world as the two strongest mercenary kings, the pinnacle of the Seven Masks. But I can see now that it was not meant to be. We-we had been commissioned to take down a legendary monster hidden deep within the Sylvern mountain range,” Commoner looked over his shoulder and saw in the distance several mountains that touched the skies, “But just as we entered the final stages of killing the monster the bastard betrayed me, stabbed me in the chest. Using magics I had learnt in my adventures I escaped but I am afraid I was never going to make it very far with this injury. I can only praise the powers above that someone was here in my final moments to listen to me.” Shadow coughed out more blood.
“Traveller I beseech you, carry on my legacy. Be my successor and take revenge on the Devil Mask mercenary king.”
You have been offered the Hidden Class: Shadow Mask Mercenary King. Do you wish to accept?
“I will not.” The dying Shadow looked up in confusion at Commoners face.
“Perhaps you do not understand. Should you accept my legacy, you will have access to fame and riches beyond your imagination, if you so wish your name could be feared or loved across the entire world. Accept my offer and take revenge on the Devil Mask mercenary king.”
You have been offered the Hidden Class: Shadow Mask Mercenary King. Do you wish to accept?
“I would be honoured, but I am afraid I am not fit for the immensity of this task.”
He put on the humblest and most pious face he could muster, one that had made countless woman swoon over him and coo over his innocence. He acted humble but in truth he under no circumstances wanted to accept a Hidden Class from this stranger. Every single Hidden Class that was unlocked was automatically registered in the Best of Best website for all to see, this was in order for users to know who their competitors for the top spots were. People would not be able to see who unlocked the class but they could see where he had unlocked it and would search until they had found him. If the fame and reputation that came with such a tremendous class was real then he could not afford to take it for fear of his face becoming known. He would also be hunted down by players wishing to test the power of his hidden class since all those that obtained these difficult to obtain classes were considered to be instant contenders for one of the twenty nine warrior titles that the Best of Best game revolved around. His friends had often commented on the subject of hidden classes and the repercussion of obtaining one.
“I understand.” Clearly even the weathered mercenary was not immune to the charms of Commoners acting, “I will leave you be, but I have but one last thing to say.”
Commoner waited patiently as the man groaned and spat more blood onto the floor. The timer in his mind indicated the man had no more than two minutes to live.
“You are trying to hide your face are you not? Do not try to deny it. I have seen people like you many a time before.” He grasped the black mask with a dying hand and handed it to Commoner, “It is yours to take. You deserve at least this much for hearing this dying man’s final story.”
Commoner grasped the man’s hand as he took the mask but they had already gone limp. Shadow had passed away. His body slowly disappeared. Commoner could swear that in his final moments the man had had a smile on his face.
‘And the hidden class passes away with him.’
Commoner looked at the black mask in his hand. It looked like something you would find in an oriental market. It had a pair of devil horns peeking out from its forehead and its mouth was stylised so that the black lips were creased menacingly. It was pretty plain, all things considered, but it would do while he was walking around the city. It also matched his black Velcro clothes. He took the rag off of his forehead and put the mask over his face, tying the strings on its sides into a knot behind his head.
You have converted class to Hidden Class: Shadow Mask Mercenary King. Class change is not optional. +2000 fame, +30 strength, +20 agility, Gained command of the Shadow Mask Mercenary Troops.
You have equipped item: Shadow Mask: All stats + 30. Weight: 0.1kg. Description: The mask passed down from a shadow mercenary king to his successor. It is part of an ancient tradition and magic long ago imbued in the mask grants its wearer a tremendous boost in abilities. This item leads into a quest.
You have unlocked the A ranked quest: Kill the Devil Mask mercenary king.
You have gained the skill Shadow Strike.
You have gained the skill Weapon Mastery.
You have gained the skill Hide.
You have gained the skill Quick Strike.
You have gained the skill Shadow Strengthening.
You may now receive job commissions as a mercenary.
Commoner stared in horror at the messages popping in front of him one after the other. He had gained stat boosts which made him far beyond over powered and a large amount of skills. He had also gained two thousand fame against his will. At the very least he knew that his friends had celebrated at even gaining ten fame per month. Since he had gained two hundred times that it stood to reason that his name would have instantly swept across the entire game. Not just because of the high amount of fame but also because of the short amount of time in which he received it. Speaking of which, this ‘fame’ stat hadn’t been on his original stat window. Perhaps he would have to unlock various stats to get them to show in the future.
Commoner could judge from what Shadow had said that the mercenaries of the continent would instantly be notified that there was a new Shadow Mask mercenary king and would send people to investigate. They would send players to investigate. Even worse, his friends had mentioned that most major guilds would start scouring every nook and cranny for hidden class players to recruit them. Not to mention the unrelated players that would simply hunt him down to see who had gained the new hidden class that granted so much fame.
‘The damn old man tricked me.’
Not only had Commoner been fooled into accepting the hidden class. He had been out acted by an old man. Shadow had used even his final moments to complete his act. From the moment the man had died smiling Commoner felt that he should have seen the trap coming but he had already let down his guard.
‘Sasha is going to kill me.’
“So yer the new owner of the Shadow Mask.”
The ground crunched under the weight of the newcomer’s boots and Commoner turned to face him. He was facing the owner of ‘The Beginner’s Joint’ restaurant.
T. J Barnacus.