Chapter 1: Thanatozoology
~ Part 2: And They Call Him… ~
“…ombie~, ♪ another zombie~ ♩ it’s a dead body~ ♩ and it is sloooo-OOOW! ♪ It is a zombie~, another zombie~ ♩ it’s a dead body~ ♩ and it is sloooo-OOOW! ♪ … Zombie~, ♪ another zombie~ ♩ it’s a dead body~ ♩ and it is sloooo-OOOW! ♪ It is a zombie~, another zombie~ ♩ it’s a dead bod– Ah! Fiiinally.”
After two hours and a half spent killing undead horses and singing the same two verses in a loop—and nearly driving myself insane...(er)—finally, the next stage of my journey is before me! Praise the Sun! No, really, praise the Sun. Hopefully it will help with the drab weather I've been suffering. I haven’t seen the tiniest ray of sunlight in the past eighty-six days IGT. “In-Game Time”, 4:1 ratio to “Real Time”, for those who forgot. The Kingdom of Erwyn is perpetually overcast with thick dark clouds, trapped in a state of eternal night.
Yet plants still grow. Go figure that one out.
Ta gueule, c'est magique?
Pourquoi en français?
Parce que je peux.
Whatever. I don’t care. I've finally reached the top of the last hill of this bumpy meadow of Hell—not the actual "Hell", I've been there, but zombie-horse-infested prairies are about as repetitive and tedious as certain parts of the Infernal Realm can be. Though I may be biased. Many hellish monsters are fire-based. And being fireproof myself, as a Solar Knight, they couldn't harm me. That didn't make them any easier to kill, only less challenging, which means boring.
You forget the succubi~. I don't recall them being that boring~
They were distracting!
Yeah, I’m sure you were very “distracted”.
Don’t remind me! ...Argh. Just remembering what they did to me... At the vague resurgence of the repressed memories, I start to shiver. “Watermelon…” I mumble in a daze.
If you can't handle it, you shouldn't have enabled [Traumatic Content] in the settings. Plus, come on. Admit you enjoyed it. I’m you. You can’t hide things from me.
Ugh...
...
......
.........
...I really need someone real to talk to.
On that, we agree.
“…...” I shake my head and allow myself a short instant of self-pity before refocusing on the outside world.
So.
At a distance of a couple hundred metres downhill starts a gloomy forest.
A very gloomy forest.
Its trees are tall—hundreds-of-years-old kind of tall. Their bark is twisting, unsightly, knotted and covered in moss like some horrendous skin disease, shadows creeping on them and drawing maleficient faces. Long branches are arching downwards as if ready to grab anyone venturing nearby. They support a canopy of black-green leaves, thick and leaking to the ground like vegetal tar. Between the trees grows a thorny underbrush so dense that I can say I've seen castle walls less impregnable and certainly less vicious-looking. Lastly, to add to the creepy atmosphere, the wind blowing through the woods echoes like the murmured wails of a hundred damned souls.
What a charming description. You're a poet now.
“Charming indeed.” My words are soaked in irony, with a side-dish of resignation. Rarely have I seen such a depressing forest—not counting marshes. Marshes are gloomy by definition. And stinky. And they steal your boots. Always the left boot for some reason. I have a closet full of lonely right boots in my vault. No, this is different. A deep-rooted feeling in my gut screaming at me to back off. As if brambles with sword-sized thorns weren’t telling enough.
Well, let's go, shall we?
The forgotten lane which I’ve been following continues down the hill and disappears into the underbrush through a faint gash in the wall of vegetation. From where I stand, it doesn't look like I'll be able to bypass the forest, which stretches to the horizon as far as the eye can see—not that far, admittedly, in the ambient darkness. I'm also reluctant to step away from my only reliable landmark, the broken road. Trusting the so-called “map” in my possession is the surest way to get lost.
Usually, I wouldn’t care too much. I’m pretty good at being lost, if I may say so myself.
…and he’s proud.
But right now I am mentally tired, and my supplies are dwindling. Death doesn’t faze me much, but starvation isn’t a pleasant way to go. Plus it’s stupid. The Wandering Knight dying from hunger in a place where no monster can hurt him?
How would that look?!
…
……
………
Yes. Why am I even tergiversating? Come at me, bro! ...forest! Come at me whether you are filled with festering corpses or a herd of giant radioactive possessed marshmallows! Fond memories. I SHALL NOT BE INTIMIDATED! Or my name isn’t Elric Walker, the–
Reckless Imbecile?
…
……
………
I REFUSE TO ACKNOWLEDGE THAT NICKNAME!!!
A screed of gloominess falls onto my shoulders. I crouched down under its weight, cast a small fire spell on my index finger, and start drawing burning circles in the grey grass. The smoke gets into my eyes.
It stings.
Even the grass is mean to me.
You’re burning it. It’s self-defence.
Sue me.
Reckless Imbecile. Why do people call me that way? I’m relatively certain I’m actually pretty smart. I did one of those IQ tests once, although I can’t exactly remember the result. Mum said it was impressive. It happened long ago, though. Can someone grow dumber? Probably. And I’m not even that reckless. I mean, sure, I don’t care much about levels, stats and stuff, so I don’t worry about losing a few of them when I die, and so, maybe I perhaps tend to potentially go to dangerous places. Maybe. But those are the most interesting ones! And so what if I may have ended up being killed a tad more often than most, I–
A tad? Dude. You probably hold the record.
…Why are you being mean to me too?
I'm you. That’s called self-depreciation. You’re getting depressed.
Oh? So you’re a psychiatrist now?
No. That would be our mum.
…
Do you want to log out and call her?
Nah. She’d just ask if I’m taking my pills.
Which I'm not.
Yeaaaah… I don’t want that… Okay! Change of plan. Let’s not call Mum.
…yeah.
Let’s go kill some stuff.
Yeah!
Let’s do it violently and bloodily!
YEAH!!
And let’s not die!
…yeah…
To show everyone you’re not just a Reckless Imbecile!
…
Me? Still there?
*sniff*
…Why do they call me that?
…...Oh, grand.
* * *
My name is Elric Walker. I am a proud explorer of the unknown, a fearless man amongst manly men, one who cowers before no challenge, bows to no foe, refuses nought quest, a Paladin of the Sun and a Friend to the Children. I have seen the unseen, discovered the undiscovered, defeated the undefeated! It means nothing but it sounds cool!
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
I also give out free cookies.
So why do people call me such an unfair nickname?
The Reckless Imbecile?
Stop saying it!
…
I started hearing it a little less than four or five months ago. Whatever Incorporated released Untold Tales last year on the first of July. We are now in the second half of January, making this game about seven months old. Inside this virtual reality, however, two years have already passed. I still remember that fateful day of the launch. I was amongst the first batch of players, along with Dan and Yas. Back then, everyone spawned in the same city, baptized [Start City]—probably because the devs were having a bad day.
We, newbies, naive and eyes brimming with hopes and sparkling expectations—
Don't lay it too thick...
We were ready to conquer this new world and fight for our dreams!
Starting with mercilessly satisfying your darkest urges by slaughtering innocent critters for the XP they provided.
...certainly.
However, on that day, instead of the peaceful and lively medieval metropolis of our dreams, we all were dropped... into a pandemonium of flame and death, surrounded by chaos and screams of despair, guts flying and blood flooding the streets as an army of monsters progressed almost unimpeded through the capital of Firstland, devouring and raping all in its wake.
On the whole, just another Tuesday in the Himekishi franchise.
And, in front of everybody popped a rectangular blue floating window.
╭☆╯ ╭☆╯ ╭☆╯ Welcome to Untold Tales, adventurers! ╰☆╮ ╰☆╮ ╰☆╮
A world of whimsical wonders awaits!
I remember being smacked in the face by a severed leg one second after reading that message.
Needless to say, we were all slaughtered. Repeatedly.
Thankfully, the death penalties had been deactivated for the duration of the event. No loss of stats or experience points or levels we didn’t yet have, nor twenty-four real hours of ban from logging in.
What this means is that the besieged city was suddenly awash with five hundred bloodthirsty and trigger-happy immortals charging into the fray like possessed warthogs and wielding weapons they had no idea how to use properly.
Yet, somehow, we did end up saving the day—in one of the most pathetic displays of disorganised bloodshed in the History of the Pandore Continent. And by "saving the day", I mean that we distracted the enemy while the Royal Knights and City Guard took care of them. Yes, we were half-a-thousand immortals, but half-a-thousand level one immortals.
But still, with us undying suicide soldiers haphazardly suppressing the assailants within the walls, the soldiers were able to focus on the more dangerous threats still outside the city.
The battle was fierce, but eventually the allied forces of men, and elves… and a few dwarves… marched against the army of monsters and, on the slopes of Start City, they fought for the freedom of the capital and… well… and won. Kind of anti-climactic, I know, but not all armies are led by an overpowered warlord whose sole weakness is their jewellery.
Thusly the city was saved, and that date entered history books as the [Rebirth of Start], an embarrassing redundancy marking the beginning of the [Era of Reconquest].
Reconquest of what, you may ask?
But, the World! …OF COURSE!!
From whom? But from the Demon Lord! Of cou— …Ah. No. Wait. I’m told there’s no Demon Lord confirmed yet, only a huge load of wild monsters. Apologies. Please stay tuned for more updates.
But essentially that was the gist of UT’s gameplay, which had been kept hidden prior to its release.
Nothing too subtle really.
Just monsters.
Lots…
And lots…
Of monsters…
Everywhere.
♪ Monsters everywhere, hiding in the trees ♪♪
♫ Just behind the rocks, blowing in the breeze ♩
♩ Monsters everywhere, doing as they please ♪♫
♪ They try to EAT YOU!!
Eat you or, you know…there's also... burnt… melted… vaporized… torn apart… digested… petrified, frozen, thrown from cliffs, from atop flying monsters, into volcanoes, pierced, slashed, beheaded, raped to death by lianas, tentacles, or/and pseudopods, flattened, buried alive, bisected, trisected, quadrisected, vivisected, insected, sieved, grated, cubed, infected with weird illnesses, drained from blood, from bone marrow, from brain matter, skinned, mummified, boiled, stewed, roasted, mash-potatoed, poisoned, squared, obliterated, dematerialised, propelled into orbit, aged magically until death ensued, gassed, strangled, stuffed, suffocated, starved… I'm still in the process of compiling that list.
…
I’m a man of the world. I like to keep my options open and I don’t discriminate.
I also try to sample a bit of everything before deciding on a favourite.
To be polite, you know?
I'll only say that there are too many monsters with tentacles in this world.
*shivers*
Anyway...
So, there you have it, the merry picture. Something happened a long, long, long time ago, causing the monster population to explode. Civilised races were backed into a corner. Any form of societal development was kind of stalled. A post-apocalyptic medieval fantasy, if you will.
For millennia there was a stalemate between monsters and the sentient races, but in recent years, direct conflicts had picked up once again. Civilisation is on the verge of collapse, monsters are rampant, and everything is a mess. For Villager A, life is not all that great on the Pandore Continent. It’s mostly run, cry, hide, and pray in hope not to be eaten before the kingdom / republic / theocracy / local dictator’s army gets there...
Then *poof* Launch Day in the real world. In roleplay terms, this means the gods finally decided to bring heroes from another dimension to fix the aforementioned mess. Interestingly, the gods themselves believe that version. Well, after all, they’re also NPCs.
The heroes? That’s us.
...pffft.
Yeah. The world is sooooo saved.
Sarcasm aside, as one can imagine, being a bunch of respawning, fast-improving fearless fools, we did tip the scales—even discounting the players who enjoy blowing up NPCs more than mobs. There’s always a few scums like that. Not that I can’t empathise. Sentient preys are so much more entertaining! …Except those guys usually prefer their victims to be powerless in order to stroke their own feeling of superiority by squashing them like ants, instead of appreciating the challenge offered by a superior minded opponent.
Kind of defies the purpose I’d say. If you want to torture something weak and pitiful, go for kittens.
…
DO. NOT. TOUCH. THE. KITTENS!!
Or the puppies. Or the little bunnies. Or baby seals, even if they look like hairy aubergines.
In fact, don’t hurt any baby animal. It’s bad. Or baby of any species, in fact. Don't hurt children in general. Hurting children, bad.
Even if some are brats and probably deserve it.
Where was I going with this…? I do have a point. I'm sure... Ah. Right. Players versus monster hordes.
Up to this day, players continue to fight against the creatures plaguing the land, slowly but surely reducing their numbers to manageable quantities, and securing an ever-expanding, vaguely circular, a priori “safer” area around [Start City].
A priori.
You never really know.
Since the term “safe zone” was already used to describe an area where monsters aren’t supposed to spawn—
A priori.
A priori. The name “Tame Zone” instead was chosen to refer to this area, where the threat level has been reduced and assessed. This also gave birth to the main distinction existing between UT players. We count three recognised categories. The lines blur between them, and the divisions aren’t anywhere exhaustive, but you can in most cases dumb it down to those three. Well…I do.
And it’s all that matters.
So, category number one: Casuals. They stay exclusively within the Tame Zone, where most of every street corner, bunny, slime, NPC and odd-looking rock on the side of the road is documented somewhere on the forums. No big surprise in store, nice place for a pick-nick, but kind of boring.
Two: Frontier Fighters. Mostly large parties and guilds, with a few soloers thrown into the mix, whose main activity is slaughtering monsters at the edge of the Tame Zone. They are the front-liners of the TZ expansion. Guess which guild belonged to that category? Hint: they are not battle maniacs. They’re misunderstood.
And, three, last but certainly not least: Deep Explorers. Mostly solo players and a few small parties who fearlessly roam the wide, uncharted and dangerous Wildlands far beyond the Frontier. A very exclusive circle where only the strongest and/or most stubborn survive. A group of oddballs who mostly disregard everything in the pursuit of their own hobbies and are rarely seen in the Tame Zone, if at all.
They have nicknames like Priestess of the Mad Fire, Magichaos Girl, Dark Harrower, Heaven’s Brush, Granddaddy and Granny Time, the Mushroom Seekers, Amadeus Parade, Bloodylocks and the three Bears, Plague Sniffer, Teacup, Grave Digger, Insidious Decay, Ghost, Moon Rabbit, VIP News Adder…
…or the Reckless Imbecile.
I SAID STOP THAT!
...
My name is Elric Walker, I’m a Deep Explorer, and I have a problem…
…
I keep dying.
…
But, you know what? I don’t care.
I just want to see the fun stuff!! The bizarre, the strange, the new and unique! Optimising your character? Maxing your skills mastery? Getting the best gear? Reaching the highest level? Being on top of some pointless rankings? Where’s the fun in THAT?! Bunch of math and statistics that will boil and overcook your brain. Or endless repetitive farming that’ll bore you to death! That’s what it is!
I want elder titans, sentient volcanos, forgotten mazes, beautiful sceneries, enchanted fairy source and ancient magic! That’s the awesome I’m looking for! What if I get cursed searching for it? I’ll just find a curse with the exact opposite effects! What if my goal is guarded by an acid-breathing penta-headed armoured flying giant radioactive invisible pirate ninja necromancer hydra? Just kill the bastard! And if you fail? Just keep going at it until you succeed!
The undead approach isn’t without merits in some ways.
What? Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is the definition of madness? Well Einstein, just do the same thing in a different way!
I’m not an IMBECILE!! I know how to adapt and change my strategy! And even if I don’t, why do you care?!
And what if I’m reckless? It’s my life! Livesssss!! PLURAL!! It’s not even like I have only one! I waste them if I want! Nah! Why do so many players act as if dying is sooooooo terrible?! Losing a couple levels? Awww~, poor dear… Want a cookie? Just get them back, you mammering buffoon! This is a GAME! It’s supposed to be FUN! When was the last time you had fun doing stats?
It’s called Virtual Reality. Get it? Virtual!!
Death means nothing! Actions have no real consequences! Go wild and let your impulses guide you!
That’s my way of gaming!
If you disagree, suit yourself, but you got no right to judge me!
You’ve got no right to mock me!
And you’ve got no right to give me PREPOSTEROUS NICKNAMES!!
Not because I die more than Sean Bean!
Not because I like wrestling dragons barehanded!
And certainly not because some meddlesome little cur calling themselves “VIP NEWS ADDER” released on the forums several montages of me getting repeatedly eaten alive, burnt, melted, vaporized, torn apart, et futue cetera!!
Yes, I swear in Latin!
VIP News Adder… Just you wait, you... bag of bidet bottom scrapings.
One day, we will find you, and then we'll enjoy slowly gouging out every single of your internal organs. And then, we’ll rip off whatever reproductive glands you may have. We shall see if you enjoy being called the “Gutless Infertile” then!
Reckless Imbecile? Me? Hah! I humph you!
But… you know… hehehe... I’m not really angry. I don’t do grudges. Ask my friends, I’m a positive and happy person. A very, very happy person.
I’ll be sure to laugh when cutting you into pieces.
Because, after all, you can’t write “slaughter”… without “laughter”.
Hehehehehe…
* * *
“…hehehehehe. Aaaahhhh~”
…better?
“Much better.” I'm not even exactly sure anymore why I was gloomy in the first place.
Nothing like a murderous rant to get your smile back.
I stand up from my crouching position. Around my feet, nonsensical convoluted patterns spread in the forms of burrows of rapidly cooling molten dirt. Apparently, I kept fingering the ground while lost in thoughts.
Solar flames. Can’t really get hotter than that. Even Hellfire feels lukewarm in comparison.
I stretch and crack my neck a couple times, before turning a sharp gaze towards the forest down the hill.
I square my shoulders, clench my teeth and uncover them in a feral grin. Then, with a light but decided step, I start again walking down the hill towards the tall menacing trees, whistling an old jazzy tune that floated in my mind.
I have a good feeling about this.
* * *
A few minutes later.
“…..aaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! What is WRONG with this plaaaaaaaace?!?!”
*BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ*
"I'M GONNA DIE!!!!"
Then again, I can always make mistakes.
* * * * *