It’s been nearly six months since the world has completely changed. That was when the first strangers appeared in our peaceful village of Larkspur. They wore strange clothes, spoke in all sorts of odd manners, and were completely disruptive. They called themselves players, and they claimed they came from another world.
At first, we were afraid of them. We thought they were invaders from a foreign land. But they soon proved to be mostly harmless, if not a bit annoying. I was one of the few who welcomed them socially. I have always been fascinated by the unknown, and I wanted to make friends with these visitors.
They were friendly, curious, and far too eager to help us with our daily tasks. They also brought us gifts, such as gold, jewels, and rare resources from afar. They said they wanted to trade with us, and learn more about our culture.
Being that I live in a small, out of the way village, there weren’t many of these ‘players’ dedicating their time to us. They always seemed to waltz in and speak with everyone, seeming disappointed that there wasn’t much needing to be done. Though, there were a few that were happy to spend days with us.
They told me that they were not from this world, but from another one called Earth. They said that they came here through a portal, which they called a video game. They said that this world was just a form of entertainment for them, and that they could do anything they wanted here. They said that they were not bound by the rules of this world, and that they had special abilities and powers.
They also told me that I was not a real person, but a character in their game. They said that I was an NPC, which meant a non-player character. They said that I was created by the game, and that I had no real free will or personality. They said that I was just a part of the scenery, and that I existed only to fill in the background.
I did not believe them. I knew that I was a real person, and that I had a real life. I had a family, friends, and aspirations. I had feelings, thoughts, and memories. I was not a part of a game.
I am Erin, and I am not an NPC.
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I am glad to not be like them. The ones that talk and help out are great, but there are plenty of . . . troublemakers. Larkspur has always been known for the fields of wildflowers growing around it, but the players found it perfect for dueling. It’s almost like a weekly event for a display of sorcery and might. It was awe-inspiring the first few times, but now I’d rather just sleep. I couldn’t imagine living for the purpose of being the most destructive.
The players that aren’t destructive are more annoying on a completely different level. While my understanding of their language is still rough, they always go on and on about ‘unlocking new dialogue’ and practically chasing me down for a ‘unique questline’.
Players’ sole purpose it seems is to solve quests, or as we call them, errands really. The village elder has just made it a habit to ask for lumber to be cut in exchange for coins. It’s just trading with an overly enthusiastic merchant without any haggling. We’ve been told to do the same, but my problem is . . . I don’t have anything that needs to be done anymore.
I think this explains our situation well enough.
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Present loading…
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I sat on an embankment to a road on the outskirts of town, facing towards the meadows. In the distance were a pair of players performing their weekly ritual of showing off to one another. It was a sunny day with sparse clouds blotching the otherwise mundane sky, carrying a gentle wind to bend the stalks of grasses and flowers.
The sound steps behind me didn’t require my attention, but the voice following them did. I still didn’t turn to face the speaker.
“Didn’t you say you were tired of watching them?” A younger, but mature masculine voice spoke behind me.
It was a player I knew, one of the few I considered close.
“Lord, you’re back sooner than I thought.” I said, not bothering with the remark he had made.
“Care if I join?”
I patted the overgrown stone and smiled back at him, “Doesn’t bother me a bit.”
I have to remind myself that he was a decent player, not someone that was just going to pester me over and over. He was still a player, but he was a friend.
“The lead I got from the forums was a bust, too many hours wasted.” He lamented with a deep sigh and a genuine disappointed tone, “Did you read the book I left for you?”
I looked away, “. . . I couldn’t understand.”
He chuckled heartily, “Yeah, most people get stumped pretty early. Shakespeare is a very romantic writer, we’re still trying to figure him out centuries later.”
“You just trying to make fun of me, huh? Bet you figured him out ez-pz.” I said, using slang he had taught me prior.
“Eh, I’m a special case. Doesn’t count.”
“Special, huh? Even where you come from you’re special.”
He waved his hand in denial, “No, no, not really. Understanding an oddball writer isn’t much to write home about. Kinda something you get made fun of for.”
“Doesn’t make much sense to me. Not like it hurts anyone.”
“That's just how our world works.”
“Sounds to me like you need a new one.”
With a disheartening chuckle, Lord responded sarcastically, “You have no idea.”
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Internal monologue loading…
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Lord was short for Salmon Lord, his moniker. He was what the players call a lorefinder; an academic type that tries to uncover the secrets of my world. He's obsessive to that end, but actually treats us like people. I still remember when he first came through the village.
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Flashback loading…
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A tall adventurer approached me as I sat on the family porch, crocheting squares for a quilt. He wore the typical adventure ring armor of cloth shirt, pants, with leather padding. His appearance was alarmingly player-like with their perfect, strong facial structures, though his expression was soft. Neither brutish, nor lanky, he was perfectly average in every way.
I ignored his presence at first, that being enough to ward most people away.
“Do you have time to chat?” He asked, “If not, I'll head off.”
The shaggy brown hair and scruffy cheeks match his relaxed tone.
It took me off guard. Players usually don't care about our time, they just ask ‘Hey, got a quest?’ or do a particularly annoying tactic they call ‘exhausting dialogue options.’
I decided to give him a chance.
“Sure, I don't mind.”
He crouched into a laid back sit on the overgrown gravel path leading to my door.
“I'm going to assume you're not a unique boss monster.”
That came out of the blue. I wasn't sure how to take that… let alone its meaning.
I tilted my head, wondering, “Why… would that be an assumption?”
“Rumors went around that there was a unique, unkillable monster within a town zone that would attack if approached.” He said, trying to hold back a laugh.
“I haven't heard of-..” I thought before remembering all the times I chased players away in a fit of rage- wailing away with the nearest blunt object.
“... Right.” I finished, a little flush coming to my face.
“I had to investigate the buzz about a monster posing as an innocent black-haired village princess, and here I am.”
I bit my cheek, speaking with an unenthusiastic tone, “You’re exactly right. Better run, or else.”
“Ha.” He chortled, resting heavier onto his arms as he leaned back, “I don't care about all that. Didn't believe it and thought it would be entertaining to let the evil monster know of the rumors.”
This was also the first time a player even thought about me as more than just a tool. They saw me as someone capable of having fun, of having emotion.
I was staring silently back at him, blankly in my dumbstruck mind.
He cleared his throat, “Sooo… does the evil monster have a name? Don't worry, I'm not one of the roleplaying crowd. No creepiness here.”
((That will make some people seethe.))
For some reason, I believed him.
“... Erin. Extraordinarily terrifying monster. SS class.”
“Well met, Erin, SS class. I'm Salmon Lord. Call me Lord, or Salmon. Doesn't matter.”
Weird names didn't take me by surprise anymore. At least there aren't numbers to remember like The Legend 58. There are tons of people named in a royal manner, I figure they come from a place with virile nobility.
That was how I met Lord, the first player to treat me no different than a friend. He would keep coming around, once a week or so. He'd always bring some sort of gift with him, quoting,
“No no, really it's just my way of saying thanks for not chasing me off!”
Over time he would explain more about my world and how it worked from a player's viewpoint. Most people were trying to solve how to “beat the game.”
My answer would be just live your life and die, but that wasn't exactly a good answer, says Lord.
Apparently my world is a game that is categorized as an adaptive VRMMORPG, or Virtual Reality Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game. A real mouthful. I don't believe him, but he swears it's the truth. Believing him would be saying I'm not a real person.
“You are actually pretty different from other non-players.” He would tell me, “You don't have any set dialogue, personality, or predefined goals. If it weren't for your lack of name tag, I'd assume you were another player.”
I'm unsure if that's a compliment or not. I take it as, ‘I'm not like the other girls.’
Anyway, that's really it for us.
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Resuming the present…
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“The reason I'm here today is a bit more serious.”
Lord was almost never serious, but his tone sounded determined. He always had an upbeat, lazy personality.
“Mm.. Scary.”
“I want you to join me.” He said, looking at me with the most terrifyingly serious expression he can give.
“No thanks.” I outright refused, “Running all over the continent to find history books… doesn't seem very fun.”
He looked so defeated for a second, but mustered the courage to continue, “I want to enjoy your world.”
“I want you to become a player.”
I focused back into the distance, turning my head from Lord and viewing the now-ending duel.
A player? I'm fine with who I am. I treasure my life, I only have one. Players respawn. Players on average are stronger than our strongest warriors, more capable than our greatest mages.
“What do you mean… A player?” I was disappointed.
“I didn't want you to shun me, but…” he paused, a guilty look, “I’ve been searching for ways to bridge the gap between us. Ever since the first time we met, I thought you would be the one that could break the mold.”
“I never would be a player if I could. Your kind is just imitating the real people here.” I said with a harsh tongue.
“There's a way, but it'll probably be fixed soon. When a player gets banned, their skill crystal remains for a short period as an item. Items held by non-players become permanent items. If you can claim one, I'm betting you can use it.”
A skill crystal is an item permanently bound to players.
They are what holds all of a player's information and prowess. In effect, they are what make players so extraordinary.
I don't know if… it's sweet or disgusting that he wants me to change.
“Why should I? I don't need to be like you to be okay.”
“That's.. that's not what I mean, Erin. I want to go on adventures with you, and explore the world.” He looked away in embarrassment, “It's just selfish. I'm just. Fascinated with this world. I want to see it with you, but it's too dangerous to go without the abilities of a player.”
“So.. it was sweet.” I cracked a smile, pondering the choices ahead of me.
“Huh…?” He said, clueless as ever.
“Nevermind, I'll see if you're right. Why not.”
Lord looked with such glee before ruining it, “Alrighty! Time to get banned!”