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And, who is he?

“I don’t know what Reaper’s Scythe was thinking sending some unequipped demon into Baskins. And with such crappy intel, too. Like we would keep the documents in the challenge tower. Seriously?” The boy-faced Priest is leading me through the village, apparently under the impression that I am a demon and blissfully unaware that I was unaffected by his [Bind Demon] spell.

This situation pretty much demands a prank. How could I not?

“I mean, I get that I’m single but they can’t honestly think dressing up some drop-dead sexy demon is going to make me fall for a honey pot.”

Ooh, “drop-dead sexy”? He’s a bit young for my tastes (or is that just his face) but since I just look like me with horns I’m honestly a little flattered. Almost enough to reconsider pranking him. Almost.

“Grr, what am I supposed to do now? If I report this to Flicker he’s totally going to take advantage of her form while she’s bound. But, if I wait until she’s unbound she might be a caster and overpower me. Argh, there isn’t even a jail cell in this town.”

Well, at least he’s a decent sort so I won’t have to kill him. Woah! Where did that suddenly fully formed plan to wait until he isn’t paying attention and dagger him in the neck come from? That’s not a prank!

Hmm, this could be an opportunity for a first step. I know I said I wanted to practice my digital magic in Hraken but how will I go about doing that? The mechanics around [EF] is kinda what I want for a regular practice environment. Kinda exactly what I want. Creepy.

This is worth pointing out while we have the time walking, but digital magic is actually quite creepy when it’s doing its thing. Suddenly, your plant gains temporary sentience and tells you to call your mother because it’s been too long since you talked to her. Or, a stranger in the grocery store reminds you that you actually should wear more green because you’ve been feeling depressed lately. All in all, it’s best to have a really well defined sense of what matters. Not like which things are important to you, but like whether or not the person driving the car in front of you is a deity. The phrase ‘in the end, does it matter?’ is the stable pool of sanity around which my collected cool resides.

Oh, we’re here. Wherever “here” is. It’s an ordinary house like all the others on this street (the second ring) but it lacks the normal signs of life some of the others have. No toys on the porch, or lines of laundry in the garden. But there is a very well ordered herb and flower garden. Very much a “I am growing these plants for their uses” kind of feel to it.

We enter a room with a desk that I’m labelling ‘office’ which, when considering the town called him “Treasurer”, means this is probably where the boy-faced priest likes to make important decisions.

EF+

It takes an inordinate amount of self-control to not smirk and give away the game.

“Demon, halt.” So, I do. I try to read the papers on the desk while I wait for him to make a move. “Ok, let’s see what kind of agent I’m dealing with.” He opens my bag and pulls out a tarot card.

“You know, it’s rude to pick through a lady’s bag.” I say while smiling at him.

“Wha-!” He drops the card and backs up very quickly, bumping off one of the chairs in front of the desk and nearly falling. “How? But- and you followed?”

I bend over, giving him a nice view, and pick up the card.

The Hanged Man - Uncontrolled Situation

I stand back up and look at the, now, blushing man. Uncontrolled situation indeed.

EF+

One trick with Tarot is not to stop with the first understanding. Why would magic only ever mean one thing? So, here is a man, not in control of the situation, but also possibly trapped by forces outside his control in general, eh?

EF+

Hmm, if that’s the case, what is it he wants but can’t have? I have a moment while boy-face collects himself so I reach in my bag for another card.

EF-

The Chariot - Triumphal Freedom

“What are you doing? Was that magic? I’m warning you, I can cast a sixth level [Banish Demon]!”

“It would work just about as well as your last spell. But don’t worry, nothing dangerous. Just a little fate magic.” So, he wants freedom? And pride… Seems seeking answers from the system costs [EF]. So, the deck isn’t purely a source of [EF] but also a magic tool that can use it. Well, maybe. I don’t actually know if the answers it gives are correct. Certainly they were in reality but they were also always a little indirect. Like asking your boyfriend what he thinks of your new jacket.

“Fate magic? There’s no such thing as fate magic. What are you trying to gain here? This town is controlled by The Wheat Consortium. Reaper’s Scythe has no business here. If you don’t explain what you’re up to right now I’ll file a report and we’ll demand restitution through the Trade Guild.”

“Are you okay? Your face was all ‘I’m super confused’, then ‘holy crap, she’s an enemy’, then ‘I’ll get you for this’, but then you ended with a kinda ‘I’m gonna go drink away my problems’ face.”

“Buh…”

“Alright, I’ll cut you a break. I have no idea who those, I assume, clans are. I am a new player. I created my character about two hours ago, walked into town, beat the tower, and unlocked my race and class.” I pause to give him a chance to think. Probably decide if I’m lying or not. “Oh, and I’m not a demon. So, blasting me with holy magic is just rude.”

Man, he’s taking his sweet time figuring out what to do. Maybe I shouldn’t have flashed him my chest. Poor thing.

“Ahem. What do you want?” Finally! He straightens a bit a looks at me.

“Well, you’re the one that brought me here. How about we start with ‘why?’” He’s so desperately trying to gain the initiative in the conversation that I pity him a little. I never did enjoy drawing [The Hanged Man] myself.

“Oh, I thought you were a demon with Reaper’s Scythe. Their our main competition in the wheat trade. They own forty percent of the wheat fields in this region so they’re always trying to find ways to steal the other sixty from us. I just thought they sent you here… How do I know you’re not a demon?”

“Hmm, oh! How about the horns? Can you touch demons’ horns?”

“Yes, actually they make an interesting catalyst in healing potions. Combined with aquatic biome fungi in a powdered form they make HoTs but in a minced form it’s a fortification. And if you combine them with flowers from the fire biome you get extra damage against… Ahem, yes. Why?”

I like him. Which of course means I need to torture him a bit more.

“Oh, you can’t touch mine.” I step up to him. Nice. And. Close. “See for yourself.” This close I can tell he’s stopped breathing for a second.

While I wait for him to work up the nerve to test my horns I wonder how old he is. He’s at least sixteen since minors aren’t allowed to play Hraken. But he doesn’t seem very experienced with women, negotiations, or unexpected events. Oh! He worked up the nerve. I step back, but still closer than where I started.

“See, not a demon.”

“What are you?”

“Pshaw, how rude. Not ‘who are you’.” Geh, I’m almost out of energy. Not like, game energy, just keeping up this kind of social facade is quite taxing. I just need to get him enough off foot that he recognizes how unhappy with his own facade he is. Show him that he is [The Hanged Man] so we can move onto his “Chariot”.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Oh, sorry.” He looks down a bit but recovers. “My nick is Hermes. What’s yours?”

“I’m Mage,” I smile and sit in the chair he didn’t trip over. “Got any tea?”

“I’ll go make some.” He almost flees the room but stops at the doorway, “Umm, please don’t poke through my stuff.”

“Sure.”

And he’s gone.

That stuff about demons’ horn and potions was kinda complicated. Not confusing complicated, but time and resource consumption complicated. Did he learn that all himself or is there some kind of information sharing going on. The way he got all excited about it makes me think he learned the hard way.

Maybe that’s his “Chariot”? If the town calls him the Treasurer and he’s part of a clan that has the majority of wheat farms then that makes him middle management? Someone trapped in a blue collar job inside a game? How tragic.

So, what am I gonna do in Hraken? I’ve got my magic and I’m getting the hang of it. But I’m feeling like I’m not experiencing the “game” part of the game. The big three in MMOs are ‘questing’,’crafting’, and ‘combat’. Questing sounds kinda lame. When you’ve spent your whole life playing video games you start to experience a lot of boredom when sifting through narratives.

Oh, no! Your son got lost in the woods? There’s an evil wizard threatening calamity? You need a rare ingredient? So what? Oh, you’ll give me some nifty trinkets as payment? How very rote. Pass.

Obviously I’ll do some quests if they pop up but I’m not gonna go looking for them. I’ll write my own story thanks. That leaves crafting and combat. Those dovetail kinda nice. I’ll check out what the forums have to say about combat build strats during lunch. But, crafting? I’ve already heard more about it from Hermes by accident than I found on the forums.

Speak of the devil.

“This is one of my favorites. It only gives a small buff to health but it tastes like a light green.” Hermes entered and hands me china cup with saucer. He has one for himself and he makes a starting motion towards his desk but then changes direction and sits in the other guest chair. I think he’s waiting for me to try it.

It’s a pleasant temperature with a sort of flowery, grassy, woody kinda taste. “Pretty good I guess. But I don’t have anything to compare it to.”

He shrugs. “So, a new player spawns in Baskins and completes the challenge tower. How did you get the key without freaking out the town?”

“Oh, the lock just fell off when I approached because it was so rusted.” I don’t think he’s buying it. “There may or may not have been magic involved.”

He laughs a bit and the genuine warmth on his face is pleasing.

“Fate magic?”

“Well, that’s what I’m calling it. I’m not sure if I should get into the details since those details might be worth something to someone. And I want that someone to be me.”

“Can’t say you’re wrong to think that way, but you’re not going to find an information broker outside a fort city.”

“Then how about a trade?”

“Hmm, I don’t really know what information is worth. I don’t want you thinking I scammed you… Or to get scammed myself. You could just be making it up.”

“I could be. But how about this: I give you details on my race and class and you give me details on crafting. You seem to have an interest in potion making.” He blushes slightly.

“Crafting knowledge is pretty expensive though.”

“Have you ever heard of my race?” It’s a gamble but the description does say it’s a rare race.

“No.”

“And I used magic your [Magic Awareness] didn’t recognize?” I’m taking another gamble but I think he sensed when I spent [EF] earlier.

“It’s [Magic Sense] and yes, it was weird.”

“So, trade?”

“Fine, you first.”

“Quid pro quo. Race for crafting info and class for answers about crafting.”

“What would have happened earlier if- nevermind. Fine.”

“I am a proud member of the Entropic Daemon race. That’s ‘daemon’ with an ‘a’. We are often mistaken for demons because of the horns but are actually neutrally aligned. Until we pick a Dao anyway. Whatever that is,” I mumble at the end. ”We are sensitive to fluctuations of probability and our bodies are expressions of will to exist first, biological second. Hmm, I wonder if different Entropic Daemons have different organs? Anyway, your turn, crafting.”

“Wait! What do you mean sensitive to fluctuations of probability?”

“Would you like to amend the trade?”

“Gah! Maybe. Fine. Crafting is just like the real world. Carve a stick into a staff and bam! A staff. That’s [Formulation] at its simplest. The biggest problem is that all the materials are different here. There’s no such thing as iron for instance and even the idea of metal is a little murky. All I know about is alchemy. The form and nature of ingredients combined changes what effects occur. It’s a lot of trial and error and most of the knowledge is locked up by alchemist clans. Your turn, class.”

I scrunch my eyes as I try to remember my science classes from primary school (as someone in the information sciences I never took physical sciences past the sixth grade). Something about a periodic table of elements and water turning into ice and steam. I know nothing useful about how to make stuff. I don’t even cook! Crap. Oh, right.

“Right, I am a Fateweaver. I can identify and store the flow of fate in the world, I think in my horns. Then I can alter it by spending the Entropic Force I’ve gathered to change things. The class has no bonuses or penalties and is described as a magic-crafting hybrid.”

Hermes has a very confused look on his face while I think up what questions to ask about crafting.

“Well, crafting seems to be tied to science. So, what level of science is the Hraken community at?”

“Umm…” Hermes studies his tea while he thinks. It takes quite a bit. “I don’t really know the history of science. Or the current state of science. But like, most of the crafters I know use trial and error and practice to do their work. So, about amending our deal. Can I ask you some questions about how you use your magic?”

I’m not against answering questions about my magic; he seems nice enough. But I don’t think there’s anything else I can learn from him. So, I guess all that’s left is [The Chariot].

“In return I will ask you questions about your game life.”

“Okay?” I think Hermes is worried I might be a spy afterall. “What magic have you cast?”

“I’ve cast magic three times. First, the lock on the tower fell off. Second, the tiger in the tower did a jump attack. Third, I drew a card to determine your fate. Why did you become the Treasurer?”

“You determined my fate?” I wait patiently for him to answer my question. “Oh, right. Treasurer huh? I joined The Wheat Consortium to bankroll my alchemy research. After I spent a year as a bookkeeper the previous Treasurer changed departments to become a Merchant and I took over as Treasurer. That was six months ago. So, what do you mean you determined my fate?”

“I took a card out of my bag to see what you desired in game life.” I pick up and look at [The Hanged Man] and [The Chariot], which had been resting in my lap. “Well, I hope it was just game life. Anyway, why don’t you source your own supplies?”

“My desires?” He pulls on his collar with one finger nervously. “I tried being the adventuring type, but I never really played games before and fighting was too hard. I work ok as a Priest in a group but it’s impossible to find a group that wants to go out just searching for ingredients. Most crafters stay out of the field. So, umm,” he hesitates, “what did it say I wanted?”

“Are you sure you want to know? You have no way of knowing if it’s right except belief. That’s a dangerous kind of knowledge.”

“Dangerous how?”

“If I tell you that you’re ugly do you have a way of knowing it’s true? You don’t. But you will still try to validate it. That’s what self-confidence is, a trick some people use to process unverifiable information in their favor. So, if I tell you what you desire how does that affect your sense of value. Do you have a way to validate your own desires?”

“I… no.” He needs time to think so I have some more tea. It’s kinda growing on me. “I want to change my question; How do you know if what the cards say is true?”

“That’s tricky. First of all. The cards don’t say anything. All the ‘saying’ is my own. So, I check what rationale I’m using to believe what I’m saying. Am I operating on wishful thinking, optimism, rational analysis of information. I do everything I can to put what I say into context and then validate its coherency. I’m running out of questions so you only get one more before my last and we end this quid pro quo. How many game friends do you have?”

Hermes looked thoughtful throughout my explanation and determined when he realised he only had one question left. But his face fell when I asked about his friends.

“None around me.” He swirls his tea a bit while he thinks what his last question should be. “What does the card I drew mean?”

“[The Hanged Man - Uncontrolled Situation] it means you are in a bad place and want out but can’t figure out how.” I finish my tea then smile as I ask my last question. “Want to join my party?”

Spoiler: Status (Mage)

Name Ellenehl Nickname Mage Age 35 Race Entropic Daemon Class Fateweaver Entropic Force (EF) 7 (low) Willforce 9/10 Skills

Magic Awareness (29%)

Magic Projection (38%)

-Entropic Alteration (38%)

Formulation

Dodge (53%)

Kick (8%)

Traits

Ego

Transhumanism

Outsider