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Escape
Monk-ey Business

Monk-ey Business

            Kraant dreamed of a stark apartment, with curtains drawn against the early sun, and the smells of coffee and body sweat. Nathaniel stood up from his VR cocoon, and wondered if he’d be stuck thinking as Kraant for the first few seconds of reality each time he popped out. He wasn’t too concerned, really. For his plan to work, he needed to make enough money as Kraant to stay alive as Nathaniel, and that was pretty much it. He had the rent paid for the next few months, same with his other bills, but no matter how good a VR cocoon was, the body still felt… off. Every once and again, you’d have to log out. In this case, Nathaniel made himself some black tea, added honey, and showered. The tea smelled good, tasted alright, and mostly just felt like the right way to, for lack of a better term, wake up. The idea that VR cocoons put the user to sleep wasn’t quite wrong, but it had certainly caused a lot of pushback when they were initially introduced. They were still considered a fairly niche market, for the hardcore gamers.

            Nathaniel was a hardcore gamer, by most metrics. He spent as much time as he could in various Massively Multiplayer Online games, but he rarely went up against the hardest challenges those games had to offer. He was too busy crafting gear for his friends, testing the limits of the physics engine, or doing whatever he could to really feel like a part of that world. He had once spent almost 24 hours of real-life time in a game, convincing other players that he was an NPC merchant. Since NPC meant non-player character, they felt no guilt selling him huge volumes of useless items. He paid the appropriate amount of in-game money, and as far as he could tell, he actually caused a few interview questions about “Immersive PC-like merchants”. He was, in every sense, a Role-Player, and he always stuck to RP-friendly servers. This was a breach of character, honestly, for him to go to a new “Prover”, or Planned-Role Virtual Reality, and then abandon his other virtual personae. While Provers allowed one player to maintain one character across many games, albeit with slight tweaks depending on each game’s superstructure, Final Escape was something new entirely. An “Omprover”, pronounced like Improver, was the next edge of gaming. According to the developers, an Omprover like Final Escape was an Online Multiplayer Role-Playing Virtual Reality. While the “VR” boom had long since bust, many gamers still wished for their in-game actions to really feel like they mattered. Like they made a difference. These role-players were the target for Final Escape, and Nathaniel had leapt at the chance to be someone bigger-than-life. Nathaniel was a startup businessman who had sold out. Kraant was a goddamned wizard, or could become one.

            Nathaniel’s tea was mediocre, and his shower wasn’t as refreshing as he’d expected.

            Kraant’s porridge was delicious. He felt the sun streaming into the dining hall through the large windows on the eastern wall, and knew that at dinner he would feel the same sun streaming in through the identical windows on the western wall. Except that, no matter how content he was as a monk, his time at the temple was over. This breakfast had, honestly, been simply a kind gesture from Oberth who worked in the kitchen. Oberth was good people, and never treated Kraant differently because he was, very definitely, the only cold-blooded member of the clergy within the whole temple. And, now, he wasn’t even that, was he?

            “Take care, Kraant. I appreciate what you’ve done, and wish you well.” The senior monk, a dwarf named Clem, tried to press a small purse into Kraant’s hands.

            “I will, Clem, but you know I can’t take your money.” Kraant pushed the purse back toward the dwarf. “I did what I did for the sake of my own debts, and to offer something to Kue. I can barely accept this robe!”

            “Well…” Clem hesitated, then withdrew the purse. It held only a few coins, anyway… and it’s not like the temples of Kue could afford to be generous… “Then be blessed, in the name of Kue of the Void. Stand you tall against evil, and be hidden from the sight of those who wish you harm.” Clem’s voice rang out triumphantly, before he sagged to his knees.

            “Clem!” Kraant leapt to help Clem up, his voice ragged with concern.

            “Hah! I wouldn’t be senior monk in the temple if I couldn’t whip up a good blessing and get Her to approve it, would I?”

            “…You old fool,” whispered Kraant fondly. “Thank you, Clem, and know that I will return.”

            A sort of… greyish light, in the way that fog diffuses any color and makes it grayer than it was, surrounded both Kraant and Clem. A clear voice, one that Kraant heard a reflection of the Granny’s voice within, echoed throughout.

            “Kraant has given an oath, and Clem has given a blessing. This is a rare day…”

            Kraant was stunned. Not only by the voice, which he assumed was Kue’s, but also by the window hovering in front of him.

Class Option: Class Change

Paladin of Kue

A paladin is one who follows the path of their God or Goddess, and who will defend that path with any weapon they need. A paladin is a direct tool of their faith, and it is the faith that leads the paladin. A paladin may fall, if they fail to follow their patron’s doctrine, but an unswerving paladin is an unerring blade against a deity’s foes.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

Do you accept? Y/N

Kraant hurled his mind as hard as he could against the “N”. While a Paladin sounded like an interesting and worthwhile life, he wanted the freedom that being a Magus offered. Besides, choosing to become a Paladin would probably kill Pebl, and that was simply not an option.

            “You choose not to join our holy order?” Clem sounded somewhat unhappy with the fervor Kraant had displayed in his denial.

            “Well… yes. I have a familiar, one who would likely not survive the transfer. His name is Peblus Magnificus.” Kraant handed the pebble to Clem, and hurried on with his sentence. “That aside… I can do great good for Kue as a paladin, true, but I want to know as much as I can before I choose a cause to rally behind. I know but one of the eight Gods, now, and I have my own life as a Magus. I hope you understand.”

            “I do, I think.” Clem reluctantly handed Pebl back to Kraant, and Kraant heard within his mind a sort of mewling whine from the stone. He suspected that, if he looked hard enough, some of Clem’s Void affinity might have made its way into the stone Familiar with the blessing… “I accept your promise of return, and I will watch for you faithfully, Friend of the Monks.”

Title Change

Title Gained: Friend of Kue’s Monks

You have spent time among the ascetic monks of Void, and learned the contentment of simplicity and stasis. It will take longer for you to become tired, hungry, or thirsty, and any effects on your soul will last longer.

Do you accept? Y/N

               This time, Kraant leapt eagerly at the “Y” button. Not only was it a benefit from a purely selfish standpoint, but he also couldn’t help but imagine himself spreading the word of Kue as people saw his title. A sort of glow ran over his field of vision, and when it ended he saw that Pebl had, somehow, gained the title “…of the Order of Kue”. So, if someone were to cast Identify on Pebl, it would register as “Peblus Magnificus of the Order of Kue, Familiar of Magus Kraant”. Kraant felt vaguely outshone.

               “Ah, the sun! The wind and the… looming stormclouds. Shit.” Kraant had, at one time, been excited to leave the temple. He was regretting his decision, now that it looked like he’d be stuck outside in only the thin, scratchy robe the monks had given him. After all, lodgings cost money! Speaking of money…

               “Alright, everyone. This is the first time I’ve really been able to record anything, let alone stream it online, due to a… fairly unique starting area. I’m level 3 in my main class, 4 in my subclass, and I obviously have a title already! Now, for those of you who aren’t familiar with Final Escape, let me run over the basics of the game…” Kraant explained how he’d set up his video feed, which was augmented to let the audience see things that Kraant himself would have to feel, or smell, or sense. He took the chance to tweak a few cosmetic settings that would apply to himself, as well, such as a modified log window that would, when summoned, let him examine his damage output, view the exact words that he or someone else had used in a conversation, and minimized almost everything to only appear when he asked for it. No names above players, no highlights over quest-giving NPC’s, no anything. He wanted to play a role, dammit, and he was hoping that the immersion would draw viewers more than simply trying to progress as rapidly as possible. Hopefully. Maybe. He’d spent enough money on modifying this cocoon for this to not work.

               Kraant wandered vaguely toward the northern gate of the city as he discussed the nature of the game, of his plans within it, and a certain amount of his situation. While he didn’t mind talking about the fact that he was penniless, he didn’t particularly want to let any on-lookers know that he had a rare class. Such things were best discussed in private… so that only paying viewers got to see the strange, beautiful magic.

               He finished his explanations as he reached the city gates, massive doors at least five meters tall and as thick as his waist. They were made mostly of wood, some dark and heavy type that he assumed could stand up to magical siege engines, and they stood open wide. After all, who would be able to assault the Capital City without warning? Any sneakthieves or assassins wouldn’t really be deterred by the heavy gates, so there was no point in inconveniencing the citizenry by making them wait for the gates to open and close.

               He greeted the guards as he passed through, each wearing the twin emblems of their home cities and the Capital’s Guard. He… he should probably find out what the Capital’s actual name was, but the monks had simply referred to it as the Capital, so…

               Kraant made it almost the whole 150 meters that were kept cleared all around the walls before he felt the first drips of rain against his hood. He glanced up as he reached the treeline, and suspected that he’d be pretty dry for a while just by virtue of the sheer density of the forest’s canopy. He didn’t have any particular quests to do in the forest, but he was almost totally certain that there would be a way to make money off of killing and butchering the forest critters. He couldn’t claim to be the best butcher of all time, but he’d had to fend for himself in the Hematite mines where he grew up, so he felt… confident.

               He made his way through the forest, smelling the rich scents of wet earth and growing herbs. He could feel the abundant life all throughout the forest, and he tucked Pebl into his hood where it kept contact with his skin. The warmth that Pebl put off was comforting, and he had to be careful not to instinctively activate his new Siphon Life spell. It was odd, feeling his own Life magic held by this little, magically-intense rock outside his body. It felt like the magic should be in him, and only in him, but… Pebl was his only friend, and he wouldn’t be responsible for the death of his own Familiar. No matter how little choice Pebl had been given in the matter of life.

               It was almost noon, he thought, when he first sensed a presence that really noticed him. He’d felt birds and bugs and one or two particularly-vivacious plants, but this… this was something else. This was danger! How refreshing. He took Pebl out of his hood, and kept the little stone in his hand. He chose to pretend not to know of his new friend. It was only a few more minutes of walking, while the thing stalked around him without making a sound or even seeming to move the bushes that Kraant knew it was moving through. It was nerve-wracking, to say the least.