God made the universe in six days. Now, anyone with five hundred dollars can now make one in six minutes.
A man at a computer. 2018.
There was no thrill of excitement or rush of adrenalin as Patrick pushed the enter key on his keyboard.
The computer, being stubborn took a few seconds for the LCD screen to respond. Suddenly, there was light in the teenager's room.
It being four hours before school, Patrick didn't give the screen a second glance before he clumsy staggered towards the kitchen. His eyes half-closed he went through the ritual of pushing buttons, twisting knobs, and scraping the bottom of glass jars. After an unforgiving wait in which he executed an intense yawn he poured himself his morning coffee.
Lumbering back to his room like a drunk zombie, he collapsed in his computer chair. He had only a few hours of streaming before he once again was forced to deal with the mundane babble of teachers and kids his own age.
Forcing himself, Patrick managed to look at his computer.
A seventy gigabyte download was not something a gamer took lightly and Patrick had thought it best to leave it for overnight. With tired eyes he saw that the transfer and the necessary updates had been installed.
On the desktop, the game's icon teased him. But it would have to wait.
Fighting the impulse to jump right into his newest toy, he sipped his coffee and went through his emails. His procrastination lasted for another cup of coffee and by then he had read the latest manga releases, checked his Facebook account, and managed to eat a quarter of a bag of stale vinegar chips which constituted as his breakfast.
By his clock he had an hour of full streaming before he had to spend the next eight hours learning absolutely nothing.
Finished breakfast he checked on the latest game news. If he was going to play this damn thing then he wanted to avoid and exploit the most amount of glitches that he could. There were few things more frustrating than having a game crash halfway through because a developer was either too lazy or he had been smoking pot on his lunch break.
He reread the official game report. In it the head developer was discussing the intricate nature of his company's attempt to exploit the gamer culture.
“InterRealms is a game about creating and building a nation from scratch. At the start you are just given a few years of peace, where you build farms, gather workers, and learn. After that your little community is thrown into a massive multiplayer filled other players and NPC villages.”
He went onto discuss about the many races and their individual technology and structures that were available. Supposedly there were thousands of cultures from both fantasy and science fiction genres which were available, each one having their own strengths and weaknesses.
At the conference Lindy McGuire of The Games magazine asked. “We have seen in other games how veteran players can have an unfair advantage. Guilds and micro-transactions allow other players to completely steam roll newer players. Destroying the experience for new players.”
“In other games Lindy, yes, but just like in real life empires have this nasty habitat of falling. When you conquer another player's land not only does your territory increase but you also lose that other player's technology. You struggle as other empires and alliances fight over your land. Meanwhile, ten players with ten different races and technologies can attack him from multiple directions. We are also putting in NPC kingdoms and empires.”
Patrick stopped reading. It was just the same news story he heard before. With a sigh Patrick turned on the game and put on the microphone. After making sure that his camera was working he began.
Skipping through a lengthy introduction sequence that he reached the main title screen. “Hello, Hello, fans. This is Go Go Shoes, bringing you the first in what will hopefully be a good long run of the new game InterRealms. How about we jump right into it?”
He clicked the start game button and moved to the next screen, “Just to let all of you know I have never played InterRealms before so I am going to be going in blind. So if I do anything stupid, just tell me in the comment section.”
“As you can see this is the selection screen. InterRealms is supposed to have one of the largest selection of individual races and starting characters.” So far Patrick had to agree for the moment. Instead of a the usual drop down box there looked to be a search engine with a number of filters.
“To save time, what I am going to do is hit the random button because I want to get through the character reaction screen this session.” He clicked the random button and could not restrain a laugh.
“Ha ha. Okay, I seemed to have landed on the... Blightwood horrors. This is going to be different.”
From the description, the Blightwoods were mutated trees and plants that had been mutated by demonic influences. They were adaptive, carnivorous, instinctual, but there was also a pseudo hive mind intelligence. They grew forest's instead of creating buildings but they also infected the ecosystem, tainting creatures.
It seemed as good a choice as any. “Okay, so now that I have chosen my race. Let's go onto the next part. Making our future king or queen.”
The next screen showed a number of different options that Patrick didn't expect. Instead of a gender the Blightwood were listed into a dozen different types of infected species. There was a oak tree with glowing red bark and a mouth that had a lot of evil looking teeth sticking out of it.
An Tolkien style ent only this one looked as if it ate children. Its body covered in blood stained thorns. The most human looking of the selection was a dryad with an body made of dark wood and eyes that glowed violet was the most human of the selection.
Each of the different styles of leaders had different upgrades and weakness. The bicorn, which was like a unicorn but with two horns instead of one, had the ability to entice prostitutes, bards, and the most carnal of sinners, they also gave bonuses to calvary units and later be able to create dark knights.
After a clicking his tongue a few times, Patrick told the microphone his thoughts and when with the corrupted dryad. “I have to admit, I gotta love that booty.” he said.
Before Patrick knew it he had wasted an hour with the selection screen. Adjusting the sliders one by one, making the dryad as human and as beautiful as he could. The sound of the alarm drew him back to the unforgiving and boring real world.
“And that's time. I'll fix that up in editing.” He hit the save character button and nearly forgot the most important part. “Oooh, name. Okay... Let's try Nicky.”
***
Eyes the colour of glowing amethyst burned brightly. Fingers made of wood, flexed. Muscles made out of fibre moved and tensed. And while there was no need for air, her ill proportioned chest was inflated.
Nicky. Her designation was Nicky. But everything other than that seemed an utter blank.
With lidless eyes Nicky viewed her environment. She saw around her a wooden kingdom with trees that that were unnaturally black and twisted, with thick glowing veins pulsing luminescent blood.
In a jerky, ungraceful movement she turned around and saw a ghastly sight. There, the largest and vilest of its number, a tree unlike others stood in a unclean forest. It's bark was bone white, and humanoid heads seemed to be growing out of the wood, their faces locked in tortured expressions.
As Nicky examined it closer, words flashed across her vision though their meaning was lost.
Forsaken Oak. Town Hall.
What the words meant were a mystery.
Then she spoke “Come play in my forests.” Nicky's voice had a hint of madness and temptation in them. The words had come from out of nowhere.
Them, without warning, Nicky began to walk. Her hips swaying, her dense wooden breasts jiggling despite being made out of hard wood. She did not know why but she had this odd compulsion to stroll to a nearby tree.
The tree, looking evil and sick stood there as if in preparation for what was to come. Nicky gently placed her hand upon its bark and a shudder ran through her body.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
The Blightwood tree shook and routes which glowed an angry red sailed upward. The tree grew larger, its trunk growing in not just size but width. Nicky did not know how long the process went on for. Seconds or minutes or but she continued to hold on, even as the veins became glowing glyphs and an eye appeared.
When she finally backed away to view her work, Nicky felt something alien as she stared at her corrupted obscenity. A person in a similar situation would have said it was a sense of accomplishment, or maybe it was gas.
Out of thin air a creature made of wood and tree moss stood. Like Nicky its eyes glowed but while her body was curved and womanly, her child looked like a moving tree.
The creature called a burl spoke in a grumbling tone. “Hungry.” Its movements were slow and it walked as if it were wearing stilts. Instead of offering its mother a greeting it marched into the forest.
Before she could attempt to figure out what that was about, the dryad was off again molesting another tree and inadvertently birthing another ungrateful brat. This time, as her fingers brushed against the bark, Nicky’s looked up into the sky.
What should have been a blue sky and sun was. Instead. another world filled with endless darkness and odd text. Several images sat there in the sky, suspended from nothing, these included an image of red tear drop, a blue tear drop, a thing that was brown and wavy lines coming off it, and what looked like a face only it had green fire around it.
The text read.
Blood 40. Water 100. Meat 0. Souls 0.
But it might as well have been smoke signals for all Nicky could make out. There were other words up there to. Words like settings, options, trade, and statistics. But enough of figuring out the intricate nature of the constellations because she had to carefully build out the trees' root system so her plants didn't die.
As an hour passed, Nicky felt as though a huge weight fell off her. She stood straighter, her movements looked less like she was trying to swat a fly with her bum and more like she wanted to punch something. Her eyes flared, not just with intelligence but with the fear of not knowing what to do.
Above her head the sky turned off and there was nothing but darkness above her, but despite there being no source of light everything around her hadn't become darker.
She glanced to the right where one of her lumbering children was looking at his twisted oak hands.
She did the same, marvelling at the shapes and the way her fingers twist and moved. She felt the earth vibrate and she turned her head to see one of her newest children staring at her. It was a stag, but its fur was black, and its antlers had glowing runes etched into them.
The animal had once been one of the natural creatures, a powerful king of the forest who guided its heard. Her daughters the lesser dryads had enticed it back to their neck of the wood and brought it before a newly created alter. She didn't know what hooded figures did over there but the stag had come back, changed.
“Hey, are you the one in charge here?” Though the animal didn't move its mouth it hadn't stopped it from from talking.
Others had stopped looking at themselves and turned to the woman who had made them and their homes. Nicky felt a little overwhelmed. “Yes.” She tried and was amazed that she could actually speak outside of what had been a repetitive script.
“Yes. I am in charge.” She said with more force before adding, “I think.”
“Good because I have some complaints.” The stag said.
An burl came up to her and spoke, “Mummy, why has the sky changed?”
A group of dryads with red eyes and lesser chests came forth, “Mummy. I'm hungry.”
“Why is yellow yellow?”
“I'm scared.”
More questions and demands assaulted the mistress of the Blight until she had to step back, her hands held high, wishing them all to stop. “Shut up!” she shouted, about ready to enter a ball and start crying.
The noise stopped and the gathering of sapient trees and talking animals stopped what they were doing. Some of them lowered their heads.
Timid and not sure what to do, Nicky looked to the five burls. “You. You brought back those animal things before. The ones you threw into your trees.” She pointed at the corrupted stag, “Like him, only less ugly.”
The burls and the stag lowered their heads, thinking that they were being scolded. “I'm sorry.” The first of her children said.
The stag moved a stone with its hoof, “I'm not ugly,” it whined.
“Never mind that. Can you get more?”
The burls looked aghast, “You want us to hurt more of the fluffy things?”
Nicky was starting to suspect that her children were special in that way that required a lot of hand holding and whacks to the head. “You want to eat, don't you?” Nicky asked. She pointed at the other dryads, “You. Try to find more food. There was a lake near by.”
She remembered there being a lake while she had been possessed, she also recalled growing several tree routes into the mass of water. Though how she did that eluded her.
Within an hour, two corrupt ents had managed to get hunt down two elks. They placed the meat in the town hall and Nicky watched as large tree routes wrapped around the carcasses and sucked them in.
Again, words flew from the tree and into the night sky.
Meat + 10.
Blood + 20.
She looked at her children and noticed that some of them were holding onto fearful looking fluffy thing with large floppy ears. “What are they she asked.” Pointing at the creatures.
“We found them, mummy. Aren't they cute?” her middle child asked and scraped his clawed hand against the animal’s grey pelt. There was a cry and the fuzzy thing became less grey and more sticky and red. It was pleading for the dryad to save it.
She then noticed that a few of her burls had pieces of bloody grey fur stuck to their faces and that the fuzzy things had a look of horror on their cute faces.
“Um...” Nicky trailed off. She thought about telling the burls to toss the animals into the big tree but a thought came to her as she looked at the tainted stag. “Take them to that stone table where all those robed people loiter around.”
A burl held his fuzzy thing defensively, “They won't hurt Mr Wuzzeles will they?”
“Mr Wuzzeles?” Nicky said not understanding what the idiot was going on.
A burl pointed at his younger brother, “He named it mum.”
“Oh, ah. No. They wont hurt Mr Wuzzeles.” At least she didn't think that the people in the robes could hurt him any more than her children already had. When they were gone she looked to the stag, “Did it hurt?”
“Fuck yeah.” The stag said.
Two minutes later and the dryads had returned. Two of them were holding water in their palms and was trying hard not to spill it, while a third girl was carrying a container filled with water. When the two girls who were using their palms managed to throw the few droplets that they carried onto the town hall, words again trailed off into the sky.
Water + 0.1
Water + 0.1
Their contributions, while appreciated were meaningless. Due to the root system her forest was gaining a substantial amount of water. She thought about telling the girls to go back, forget the water, and return with food but then the daughter with the odd container splashed a large amount of water onto the large tree.
Water + 1.
Again she did not understand the significance of the words, but she was interested in her daughter's using a tool to transport the water. It was cleaver. Her sister's efforts seemed laughable in comparison.
One of them was holding a silver creature that was all head and tail. While Nicky had never seen the animal before she did recognise the next floating words.
Meat + 2
Blood + 2
Well, at least they had managed to bring some food to the table.
Her interest in the small silver animal shattered as their daughters brought a guest to their domain. Nicky had never seen anything like this new animal. It walked like they did, but instead of being made of wood he was made out of soft pink skin and fabric.
“Can I keep him?” one of her daughters asked.
“Explain who or what this is.” Nicky said.
“This is Dilbert, mummy. We found him by the lake trying to catch more of those floppy things he calls fish. Dilbert's a human.”
Dilbert spoke but there was an odd faraway tone in voice. “You're very pretty,” he said dreamily.
Nicky gave the human a suspicious look. “And what do you want to do with him?”
While they could throw him to the tree it seemed some how wasteful. None of the creatures, not even the stag had said a word before being changed. Perhaps giving him over to the alter was the right course of action.
“Dilbert taught us a game. Watch, mummy. It's fun.” The corrupted tree spirit who was the closet to the human got down on her knees and pulled down Dilbert's pants.
Nicky wanted in fascination. She didn't know the rules of this game but it seemed to be over quickly. More words flew from her daughter's head when they were done playing.
Soul + 0.2.
“Dilbert is smart to mummy. He taught me how to use this.” Her daughter with the wooden container held it up, “It's called a bucket. It helps me carry water.”
“Hmmm.” Nicky thought for a moment, “Dilbert. Where did you come from?”
***
Feeling half dead, Patrick got home and immediately began to get out of his school clothes. It was just another boring day, nothing interesting had happened. At least apart from Charlie raising a girl's skirt and giving the boys something to look at.
Tired and exhausted, he once again fell into his computer chair and smacked his open palm down on the keys, not in the mood to care about anything.
Setting up the microphone and camera with less energy than he would set up his own funeral, Patrick started InterRealms.
“Welcome back, people. Now, if you were with me last time I just created a cult circle, and my girl Nicky was shaking those glorious buns.” He clicked on the continue button and watched as the loading screen came up.
“Now, all of you who don't know, this game has a NPC mode. What this means that when I am not playing all my creatures and my mayor get a minor AI, and they go about their lives. Meaning that events happen without the player knowing, So let's just hope that my town hasn't turned into a flaming wreak.”
Patrick was moderately surprised that his village was still going and he was even more shocked when he had gotten a few treasures.
“So while I was gone I got twelve water. Twenty meat. A mess of blood. Several tools. Five human farmers. Two souls. And it looks as if I got a few corrupted rabbits, including a Mr Wuzzeles.”
There was the sound of key strokes and monologuing as Patrick continued to build his small empire. He guessed he could keep playing before he got bored and suicided his nice little community.
It was always got him a few extra viewers when he set his own town on fire.