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Game Changer - Day Dreams
Chapter Four - Blazing Brow

Chapter Four - Blazing Brow

Chapter Four: Blazing Brow

Sol looked over the notes he’d compiled in the last three month. He had managed to earn enough money to buy a pair of pants to replace the rags he had been wearing as well as enough paper to make notes binding them in a rough leather cover to create a notebook. He’d also earned two skills, upon levelling these up he’d found they increased the stats related to them as well as providing there own benefits.

Name: Sol Age: 15 Race: Human Level: Lv8 Strength: 14 Endurance: 17 Speed: 12 Dexterity: 13 Charisma: 9 Intelligence: 37 Fame: 0 Rank: F

SKills

 Bartering - Lv2 - F

The ability to negotiate the price of buying and selling objects, as well as making deals and agreements, as well as improving financial decisions.

Profits + 10%

 Study - Lv8 - E

The ability to learn from books and gather knowledge from what you see, as the skill advances the ability to apply this knowledge improves. Upon reaching level ten specific studies can be taken.

Learning speed + 8%

It seemed the games levelling system was based on how many stat points you had collected and not on how many enemies you’d killed. Though Sol did confirm he could gain experience from killing monsters after gaining a level from killing a rat. That aside both skills would serve him well though it was the Study skill that was truly amazing. The E rank wasn’t for show, Most people basic skills like swordsmanship and others of the kind starting off as F, but the study skill started from E strait off the bat the skill allowed an increased learning speed that also meant an increased chance of understanding something knew, it would mean Sol could work harder and longer, if he ever reached the truly high levels of the skill then he’d be an unrivalled genius.

But the Old Man, as ever was a killjoy, it seemed all skills had a level cap, that it was supposedly impossible to breach. Sol didn’t care if it was possible to advance past those levels or not he would do so, and let no one stand in his way! He laughed to himself as he stood.

He had made many notes marking down everything he understood about magic, which was barely anything at all. Still it would probably help him in his task. With each point in intelligence he had gained he was able to recall more memories and in greater detail. Once more he tried to cast a spell his only reliable hope that it would work being that everyone who was transported to another world has those kind of intuitive powers. But once again it amounted to nothing so with a sigh he lay down on the mattress stowing away his notes and attempting to get some sleep.

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“Get up, you lazy sod!” Old Man Vanda yelled jabbing him in the side with his foot. Sol sat up with a cry looking towards the old man,

“What is it, it’s not even dawn yet, senile old fool!” he hollered

“Shut it you idiotic dunce, We’ve got our trip to Almor today, so get off your rear and get a move on, or we won’t make it half way before sundown!”

Before he knew it Sol was forced out into the predawn air, chilled to the bone wearing only a pair of pants. But it the work was enough to keep him warm, at least to some degree. Loading empty crates and baskets, storing away the pouch of coins in a compartment built into the frame of the cart. Preparing and loading oddities that they could sell upon reaching Lanmere. The workload was great, so in his time there it had been enough to put some muscles on his bones.

“You two seem to be working hard.” Mrs Vanda called approaching the two of them with bowls of mamile, a sort of syrupy fruit drink coloured gold. It was warm and helped to wake you up, sort of a caffeinated version of honey though it tasted like a mix between grapefruit and orange. Sol thanked her taking a heavy gulp out the bowl and handing it back before getting back to his labours. “I’m going out front, pick out a rucksack and gather your things, we’ll be gone for five days,” The old man declared climbing into the drivers seat.

“He’ll never admit it.” Mrs Vanda laughed as her husband left, “But you’re a godsend for us. He’s been working himself ragged for the past couple of years, he can’t make the long trips to the other countries to pick up goods like he used to, he’s got a bad hip and his temper doesn’t help, he doesn’t want to retire, but it’s only a matter of time until he does. So thank you Sol, you’ve been like a son to us.” She smiled patting his shoulder. Sol returned her grace before running back into the store and picking up a rough rucksack and filling it with his notes as well as an inkpot and quill before baring the door and heading out of front.

“Get up here lad you’ve wasted enough of my time already!” The old man yelled waving at him to hurry up. Sol scoffed before jogging over and climbing aboard the cart. “Hay boy, this is for self defence, I’m sure you know how to use it.” The old man passed him a wooden stick snickering. It about as long as his arm, a polished handle on one end a bulbous growth on the other. He stared down at the stick then up at his patron, “What you need a manual now, get your arse in gear kid!” the old man yelled cracking the reins the mule moving forwards without a word.

They left the town as the sun rose in the sky to there right as they headed south. The golden fields around Lanmere slowly began to fade turning into a series of rolling hills stretching outwards into the distance, the grass was verdant, a pale green that swayed with the breeze, small tufts of long wild grass and hedge sprouting here and there along with lone trees of all varieties mainly olive and other fruit bearing types. Soon the red skies of early morning turned blue and the heat started to set in, Sol placed his hat atop his head, he’d found it a necessity considering the climate, it was the cheapest way to ward of sunburn and heatstroke.

“So where are we going?” Sol questioned “And why do I need to carry this.” He held up his club.

“A town called Amor, it’s by the coast and specialises in fishing, and it’s the largest source of fresh fish in the kingdom as well as a couple types of sea monster.”

“What kind of fish?” Sol replied unsure of how to react about the monster comment.

“I don’t know, I’m no scholar, what I do know is, if it has spines don’t buy it, it’ll be poisonous. Also the more eyes the more valuable,” he declared. “We’ll just be buying them in bulk though. Then we’ll smoke them when we get back to Lanmere, one crate should do, we’ll salt and store them, then sell them to the village for the summer festival. Of course this’ll be your job, I’ll be going to a couple different shops and vendors and trying to sell some of our wares.” He gestured to the crate Sol was sitting on.

“Sure, how much should a crate of fish cost?” Sol questioned.

“Well a normal fish is two coppers, a good one three, we’re looking for normal. Three coppers per fish is the maximum, they sell them by ten, and the crate can hold about eighty, so how much do you think it’ll cost?” The old man questioned with a grin, he’d been trying to catch him out like this for the many months they’d known each other, ever since Sol proved to be a better mathematician than the old man. Sol sneered,

“One-hundred-and-sixty copper coins.” he replied

“Yeah… you have an allowance of two silver coins, keep it in that and your fine, you can use the excess money however you like call it a bonus, but you’ll still have to pay me back one of these days, just don’t buy any of those weird books.” the old man muttered bitterly

“I’m studying to be a mage, I need those books.” Sol defended

“I have no idea what a ‘mage’ is, is it like some stupid type of scholar?” The old man yelled dashing Sol’s dreams to the earth

“Gah, I don’t know why I talk to you about this.” Sol grumbled not in the mood for the banter.

“At least you’re not trying to be a hero, remember those kids coming round a couple of days ago?” The old man chuckle trying to lighten the mood

“You mean the ones, talking about hunting monsters.” Sol sighed

“Yeah I heard they were blessed ones, you know the ones that come back to life after they die, well even Blessed ones should realise that death isn’t fun, and going after monsters is sure to get you killed sooner rather than later” The old man shook his head.

“Blessed one?” Sol questioned. The old man looked up at him and sighed.

“Should have realised you wouldn’t know, I swear it’s like you’ve fallen out of the sky… Anyway blessed ones supposedly come from another world and are blessed by the gods to never die.” the old man snorted, “Yeah well talking to those idiots I doubt it, I charged them full price and they couldn’t even try haggling because they were mouthing off about how great they were and then when they realised that they could they just started shouting ‘You god damn NPC’ didn’t understand a word of it, they’re kind of like you in that sense, saying and doing things without a reason, a scrap of brain in their heads: the only difference being they’re immortal and you’re an idiot.” The old man laughed at that. Sol turned away looking down at the floor.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

NPC, they had called him a none-player-character…

Maybe it was just some random acronym? No they didn’t even have toilet paper here let alone acronyms. Perhaps, he wasn’t the only one trapped in this world?

“Old Man, since when did the ‘blessed ones’ arrive?’ Sol questioned.

“Just under three month ago, a day or two after you arrived.” he replied. That was impossible, if everyone in the accident had been transported with him they’d have arrived earlier, if it were random people dying they wouldn’t have arrived all at once. Was he even in another world at all?

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Night had closed in around them, the little cart parked at the side of the road, a fire made from dried grass burning low and peaceful, just warm enough to heat up their bowl of soup, which seemed to be this societies staple food. Sol smiled looking up at the stars seeing how they turned, stars he’d never seen before. He wondered what stories they told.

“Hey Old Man, you got any stories?” Sol questioned, looking about seeking something to take his mind off of the boredom slowly setting in.

“I’m not old but sure, what kind of story?”

“One about monsters.” he replied without thought.

“Well, I have one about a dragon, heard it a couple years ago from a bard.” he cleared his throat and placed his empty bowl by his side. “Long ago, before our Kingdom’s name even existed, when our father’s fathers were unborn, there lived a mighty old dragon whose scales were pristine white and dazzling like the sun. Many Heroes travelled forth to slay the beast, which in its pride and arrogance burnt down any town or village that did not worship it for its beauty. It demanded tributes and every year gold and silver were stockpiled within its cave.” The old man was practically salivating. “Well, the gods angry with the dragon decided to strike it down, but they had made a promise to never directly interfere in the mortal realm. So they did all that they could, each one picked a hero and had them face the dragon.”

“In her haste to prove her greatness; Dorstain made a primitive strike and selected a great hero, she blessed him with the power to withstand the dragons flames and sent him to battle, but he died before he had a chance to land a blow, crushed beneath the dragons foot. Next came Vinma choosing a wise general, who sent an army to face the dragon, but their spears could not pierce its hide and numbers meant nothing to the beast. Then Murgoth who sent a deadly assassin to steal the monsters life in its sleep, but the assassin forgot: a dragon always has one eye open. Then Kilna selected a great sage to appeal to the dragon and make it an offer; he was burnt alive before he had a chance to speak. When all seemed bleak Aborai selected a young farmer, whom he trained in the art of the lance, the farmer became strong and earnest and was sent forth to face the beast. They met in battle and the Hero quickly fell but not before he removed the creatures eye.”

“Finally it was Sincai who selected the basest creature as his servant, he selected a Goblin. Giving the beast intelligence beyond its kin he sent it forth the slay the dragon. The other Gods laughed at Sincai if Aborai the greatest God, lord of creation, could not slay the beast how could a Goblin? Sincai just laughed and told them ‘Ones stats alone do not measure a man, it is he who thinks himself less than his foe that shall strive to do more.’ The Goblin with its diminutive form and light feet was able to sneak up, upon the dragon. He then removed a snake from his pocket and placed it in the dragon’s ruined eye before fleeing the cave. The lowly snake, that bites at the heel of man and hides in grass, slithered through the dragon’s eye, slinking down and down until it reached the dragon’s heart. And with a single bite the Dragon was died. Not only had this goblin felled the dragon but had done it in a single blow!” The old man laughed. “That is the story of the first Goblin king and the white dragon.”

“Dragons sound amazing.” Sol smiled and the rather bizarre story.

“Indeed they are amazing creatures and not just for their wealth, but the power of their Mahol.”

“Mahol?” Sol questioned leaning forward.

“It’s a term that means a monsters innate ability, for example dragons breathe flames, or Gorgons turn people to stone, wraiths dissolve into shadows, although only the most powerful monsters can use it. All of the others use Mahus,” he explained. Sol sat there in wonder, his mind spinning a plan beginning to form “eh, get some sleep kid we’ll be out early again in the morn.”

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Rey Standon

He stood there fiddling with his tie, “Ugh, why do I have to be here, can’t you deal with it?” he questioned the small device in his pocket.

“Of course I can deal with it. I just don’t want to suffer alone.” Alpha replied from his phone, the Ai’s voice sarcastic.

“Sure.” Rey replied walking to the edge of the stage peeking out past the scaffolding.

“Now Reynard Standon, founder of Olympus and creator of Alpha.” The presenter declared. He believed it was the same one from last time, the one named Jennifer or something.

He walked out smiling sitting on the left side of the horseshoe shaped couch looking to the camera. “It’s a pleasure.” He laughed waving to the camera and the audience behind.

“Yes, your new game; Expanse has been around for roughly three months now and it has already revolutionised gaming. The game’s realism is on a depth that makes it indecipherable from real life. Let’s see your promotion shall we?” She smiled at him as behind them the screen turned black and drums began to beat, the speakers besides them beginning to vibrate There was a flicker of light followed by images of a group of three riders rushing across a plane. A dramatic monologue began to play and soon the sound faded out as the conversation picked up.

“So I understand there have been a number of complaints about the game being too realistic.” The presenter pushed him making an inquiry.

“Oh that, Well I’m not really sure of all the legal jargon so, I’ll have Alpha explain.” He placed down the phone in the same manner as last time.

“Well yes, there are numerous complaints of people being traumatised, however there were precautions set up for the players; in the menu they could have enabled the traumatising content blocker, this would temporarily Log them out while there actions are taken over by an algorithm that would synthesise their most likely responses and they could read a report or watch footage on the events later. In the contract that they would have sighed when logging into the game it clearly stated we are not responsible for them not reading the manual.” The Ai shot down the challenge with practiced ease.

“And what about the complaints that the game is too primitive?” She pushed. Alpha replied a sudden riposte

“That’s the entire point of the game; it was named expanse because it was a world without limits. While highly advanced technology cannot be created in the game, players can introduce basic technology around the time of the period, they can build kingdoms and empires and do whatever they wish. The only player inhabited kingdom would be Zelday, currently there is a guild being established there known as ‘The Seekers’ this group has two factions one focused on improving the science and technology of Olympus, the game worlds name, and the other on discovering the new world; be it mapping new areas or cataloguing creatures. There are many who are dedicated to finding new things and expanding the world, we can’t all be knights and paladins seeking justice or monster slaying heroes.” Alpha laughed.

“And what of the complaints that there’s no magic system in the game?” the Jennifer person added, it seemed she was trying to find a fault in the game.

“It is true that there is currently no magic system, but it doesn’t mean there won’t be one in the future. It’s been difficult to get the game to where it is we have no idea where it will go from here.” Rey chortled at the comment.

“Well then why don’t we go on to talk about a couple of the features in the game?” the Jennifer person switched topics.

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Sol

“You aright up their kid?” one of the fishermen questioned from below handing him another basket of produce, which he emptied into the crate before him.

“Huh, yeah I’m fine, come on just two more baskets, Let’s have the yellow and green.” he pointed towards another two baskets of different coloured fish as he handed the emptied basket back the fisherman. Sighing he slammed the lid back onto the crate and slumped down to sit at the back of the cart.

“You’re working hard little merchant.” The Fisherman gave him a gap-toothed grin. Sol nodded. Everyone in Almor seemed to be of the rougher sort, the port town was poor, it had only the fish that it sold and ate but without the means to store fish it was useless in trade. The only people who ever really made it big in the little town were the sea-hunters. Those who went far out to sea and slew the monster waiting there. A dangerous job but one catch could feed a family for three months. “So wha’s the story, you came in with the ol’ miser, He does na have any bairns, heard his wife was barren or somethin’ alike that.” the mans accent was atrocious sort of like a Scottish cowboy

“No I’m his… assistant, apprentice, something in between the two really, I help out he teaches me the tricks of the trade, I earn a percentage.” Sol replied standing up.

“Anything else ya gotta buy?” the man questioned leaning back to sit on a stool besides his stall.

“Nope, I’m settled with the fish… Actually do you know of any bookshops around here affordable ones?”

“Nah, this place has nathing li’e that, but there’s a knickknack shop down ba the river. I think it ma have what yer looking for.” Sol paused for a moment decoding what the man had said.

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Of course the man was not nearly as helpful as he may have first appeared. After the returning to the ‘modest’ abode that the old man had selected as there place of residence during their stay, which just so happened to be a barn on the edge of town that had cost him a whole three coppers to rent out. But upon returning He’d soon discovered just how vague the term ‘by the river’ was.

The Telltain river cut through the surrounding hillsides to divide the town in two, one half held the fishermen, it was poor and un-developed, simple dark wooden houses and standing just short of the shoreline. In the bay many long ships sat, similar to flat-bottomed canoes loaded with harpoons and nets. The other side held a number of shops and trades, these houses were a cut above their neighbours but were still fairly rudimentary. Sol quickly began to walk down the riverbank looking over signs hanging in rows, placed besides doorways or leaning against storefronts nearly all defaced by delinquents carving unmentionable prints in each. The river itself was clear, flowing down, women kneeled by the water cleaning while their children played up and down the gentle sloping bank. The entire town seemed light hearted if nothing else despite what many would see as poverty. In truth it was just the average standard of life. Sol considered introducing methods of improving the living standards, of course change would always face harsh resistance and he wasn’t established enough to introduce that change himself, someone else would probably handle it, he had his own work to do.

Casting his eyes up he saw a sign swinging in the dull breeze the name reading Iluthia’s Emporium. It was painted in blue and hung out of the reach of hoodlums. Entering the shop Sol grinned, it seemed he’d found the correct place.

Behold the shelves were stocked with many curious and oddities of varying styles and natures, many seemed foreign taken from a range of primitive culture. An old man was sitting at the very end of the shop looking down glumly his finger rapping against his counter.

“Hello!” Sol greeted marching up to the man, “I was wondering if you had any books on monsters, specifically mahol?” the old mans face seemed to lighten

The man looked up and Sol re-appraised him, he was not just old he was ancient, his skin was sallow and wearied, liver spotted and his body seemed to creak and crack like the limbs of a dead tree in a storm. The old man licked his lips before speaking in a voice relating his years amidst the dusty offerings of his dwelling. “No… No, books. We have scrolls, rare, bundle. Cost fifty coppers, notes I made, long ago.” The old man paused coughing. Sol looked hard at the man, he was already selling him the tomes dirt-cheap, and it wouldn’t be right to ask for more. But Sol’s life savings totalled only thirty coppers. He did have the left over change that the old man had given in him as funds for buying the fish… But he really didn’t want to be in the old mans debt; He had made his choice he needed the scrolls or he’d be stuck stagnating before discovering his magical abilities. Nodding to himself he handed over the requested sum, deciding to pay Old Man Vanda back at the earliest convenience. He received eight scrolls, worth far more than he paid, all held in a leather case, sealed with a metal latch. The scrolls themselves were made from pieces of wood linked together by rope painted pictures and words on each along with a rough hand written journal of notes on a long ream of papyrus. He smiled to the old man.

“Thanks.” He laughed walking out of the store.

“You’re welcome.” The old man replied going back to tapping against his desk.

Rushing out of the shop Sol began to run, he could feel it; he was drawing closer to the answer.