The whiteness stretched endlessly, going on and on, it was almost irritating how far it went. A slap to the face made him focus on the task at hand.
“Holy shit, it's happening! Yes, yes, YEEEES! Hehehehe! YES!”
//
Initiation complete
Deconstructing body
Deconstruction complete
Distribute stats
//
“Oh my… This is incredible! My body is gone, GONE! No pain, not anything. Just gone, poof.”
Wyrmlok looked down at his body, or at least he tried to. His body had disappeared. Where it went, could be anybody's guess.
A white mist filled the area where he was looking and condensed into words and numbers. These were his stats.
//
HP: 0/0 (Health points. Determines how much health you have. Every 1 point equals 2 HP.)
MP: 0/0 (Mana points. Determines how much mana you have. Every 1 point equals 2 MP.)
SP: 0/0 (Stamina points. Determines how much stamina you have. Every 1 point equals 2 SP.)
VIT: 0 (Vitality increases HP by 1 per point. Increases HP regeneration by 0.03% and SP regeneration by 0.01%)
END: 0 (Endurance increases SP by 1 per point. Increases SP regeneration by 0.04% and HP regeneration by 0.02%)
STR: 0 (Increases strength)
SPD: 0 (Increases reaction speed and reflexes.)
PER: 0 (Perception increases sensitivity to stimuli.)
DEX: 0 (Dexterity increases flexibility, maneuverability, and balance.)
WIS: 0 (Wisdom increases MP regeneration by 0.04%. Increases memory.)
INT: 0 (Intelligence increases MP by 1 per point. Increases MP regeneration by 0.01%. Increases thinking speed.)
WLP: 0 (Willpower increases HP, SP, and MP regeneration by 0.01%. Increases willpower)
Stat Points: 75
//
“Hmm. Interesting. Very interesting. So, I want to be a magician, obviously. So I should focus on mana stats. But dexterity also seems quite useful for a magician. So maybe some into that. Let’s get started.”
Wyrmlok distributed his stat points in the way he thought best.
//
HP: 11/11
MP: 40/40
SP: 11/11
VIT: 5
END: 5
STR: 3
SPD: 4
PER: 4
DEX: 8
WIS: 10
INT: 11
WLP: 5
Stat points: 0
//
“Yess. Give me the magic power! Hahaha!”
//
Based on your stat point distribution, choose one of the following classes, or spin the wheel of desire.
Mage, Healer, Warlock, Druid…
//
The list of potential classes was large. Wyrmlok scrolled down the list by just thinking. They were all related to magic somehow, but for some reason, he couldn't find a magician class.
“This is bogus! Where’s the magician class? I guess there’s the mage class, but I don't want to be some stinkin mage, I want to be a magician! There's a difference!”
Wyrmlok stewed in his thoughts, cursing the system for its shortsightedness. He tried to look away from the screen, but it just followed him around.
“Go away, stupid screen. I don't want to look at you, shoo, shoo.”
He tried to make a shooing motion with his hands, but then realized he had none.
“Dammit, I want my hands back! Although. Hehe, no hands, that's pretty good. Ooh, look at me, handless man. Ha! Guess I’ll just putz around. Or spin this wheel thingy. “Wheel of desire” is it. Hmm, will that give me the magician class? I definitely desire it. Let's go for it. Spin! That! Wheel!”
Wyrmlok imagined his hands closing around a large wheel and spinning it, but all he really did was mentally want to spin the wheel. A large wheel condensed out of the mist already spinning, and spin it did.
“That thing is flying. Why bother spinning it so fast?”
The wheel began to slow down until it stopped, and Wyrmlok was able to read all the entries on the wheel. Every single entry read, Magician.
//
You have gained the class [Magician]
//
“HAHA! Of course, they all say magician. All that self-doubt, vwip, out the window! Now, what's the next step on my epic adventure?”
//
Design you body
//
“HA! I don’t even exist anymore, this is great! I get to totally recreate my image! Oh my Fuuck, I'm so excited!!”
A new screen popped up, showing a generic body. But the usual sliders he would expect were not there.
“No sliders? How am I supposed to-”
Before his very eyes, the body began to change, fitting the exact image he had in his mind. The body stretched, becoming 220 centimeters tall. Then, the body thinned, giving the body a bony appearance with sharp angles. The hair was similar to his own, brown, but now tufts of pale sulfuric yellow, ashy grey, and blood-red hair appeared, surrounded by his brown hair. The skin paled to an almost sickly degree, turning white as a ghost. The lips also paled, appearing a dull whitish pink. The eyes stayed the same, for some reason or the other. He did wish to change them, but they just wouldn't budge, staying the same greyish blue that they had been.
“I wonder why I can’t change the eyes? A very strange limit to put in place when I can literally change anything else. But overall, I am happy. This guy looks like what I imagine the perfect magician to look like, yes. Also, this isn't just some guy in my imagination anymore, no no no, that is me!”
As he said that, his perspective shifted. Now he was standing on his feet, looking through his eyes, and balancing his sudden shift in height with his hands. The balancing did not go well, as he tumbled to the ground in a mess of long limbs.
“Ha! I tripped myself, what a world! Also, where are my clothes? And more importantly, my wand!? Where is it?”
//
Get new clothes, or, return old clothes
//
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Return, return, obviously!”
Wyrmloks business suit appeared on his body and his briefcase inexplicably appeared in his hand. It appeared like he was never even naked in the first place.
Of course, the suit was much too short now. His pants exposed his ankles and shins. The shirt was too short as well, exposing his midriff. And his feet stuck out of shoes too small for him now. But Wyrmlok just laughed at this unfortunate predicament.
“Well, at least I got my wand.”
He reached into his chest pocket and pulled out his wand. The wand was black, made out of ebony wood. The tips of the wand were white, made of a carved moose antler he had found while hiking.
Wyrmlok remembered making this wand. It was a passion project back then. He remembered buying that, honestly, outrageously expensive ebony wood. In the web article he read, the tips of the wand were typically made of ivory, but he isn't an elephant killer, so he used moose horn instead. He had to buy a really sharp knife to carve the wood because it was hard as a rock.
He looked at this wand he had put so much work into, feeling the weight of it in his hand.
“Looks like you’ll finally see some action!”
He pointed his wand and imagined firing off a spell. Then he ducked and somersaulted, dodging an imaginary knife.
“Wupah! Take that, and that!”
He continued moving around, imagining flinging spells around and tricking opponents. This was just an exercise, not fun, not fun at all.
“Alakazam, Alakazoo! Oh, you want this money, well, poof, it's gone! Haha! What this, something important to you? A memento you say, well what if I make it… Disappear! Hehe! Yeah!”
Wyrmlok gave himself a nice slap to the face, trying to get his mind back on track.
“Hmm, one more.”
“Take me, prisoner? Me? Very well, lock me up and throw away the key! I will be out in a jiffy! I’m gonna pull a Houdini an all y’all.”
Giving himself another slap, he focused on the mist-formed words once again.
//
Accept class [Magician]?
//
“Yes, yes, accept.”
//
You have gained class [Magician]
You gained skill [Sleight of hand]
[Sleight of hand]: Hands gain extreme flexibility and dexterity. Skill scales with DEX. (Passive)
You have gained spell [Misdirection]
[Misdirection]: A spell that draws attention to the target of the spell. Spell scales with INT. (Active)
//
“Nice! Sleight of hand, hmm? Let’s try it.”
Wyrmlok brought his hand up to his face, then bent his fingers as far back as they could go. The fingers on his hand bent to a ninety-degree angle back, but then stopped. Next, he brought his hands together and played thumb wars with himself. His thumbs dashed back and forth, trying to pin one another, moving like little sausage snakes.
“What an effect! Oh my gosh, the things I can pickpocket with this skill, hehe.”
“You had a watch? And you think I stole it? I don’t know what you're talking about, I’ve never stolen anything in my life.”
“HAHAHA! I’ve never stolen? I steal stuff all the time, it's fucking hilarious!”
Another slap to the face got him back on track.
“Jeez, Louise. All these slaps are gonna leave a bruise.”
//
Please select a challenge
Solo, or, group
//
“Hmm, let’s be smart about this. Do I want to go solo and avoid the hassle of dealing with other people, and play it safe by avoiding others? Or go with a group and flaunt my superior class, at the risk of them abandoning me and leaving me for dead. I think the answer is clear, let’s go meet my teammates!”
//
Transferring to team prep area
Transfer complete
//
Wyrmlok suddenly found himself in a very different area than before. A room, with walls.
“Oh sweet walls, how I missed you! Give me a kiss!”
He kissed the rough wooden walls, getting a splinter.
“Ouch!”
Maneuvering his tongue, he spit the splinter onto the ground.
Rubbing his lip, he looked left, then right, finding the room empty.
“Seems my team isn’t here yet, thank god. I have got a new image to build, one of a dark and mysterious magician. Not some wall kissing ape.”
Then he heard a different voice speak, a deep voice that reverberated in his ears.
“Uhm, actually, I am here.”
Wyrmlok whipped around to stare at this person he had missed. They were standing directly behind him, unfortunately avoiding his right and left checks. The man was two meters tall with an athletic build, but not overly bulky. He had black hair, tan skin, and green eyes. The man also was wearing some kind of odd leather clothing.
“Bah!”
“What?!”
“Nothing.”
“....Ok? My name is Polundrun. But you can just call me Drun.”
Wyrmlok gave the man a weird look.
“Your name is Polondrun? Really? What an odd name.”
Polondrun scratched the back of his head, his face slightly flushing.
“Y-yeah. It is kind of weird. What’s your name?”
“Wyrmlok.”
Polondrun stopped scratching the back of his head and just looked at Wyrmlok with confusion on his face.
“Isn’t that just as-”
There was a flash of light and a person appeared, facing the wall.
Contrary to his expectations, the person turned around, resisting the urge to kiss the wall. The person revealed herself to be a woman, decked out in an orange robe with a large orange witch hat on her head. She was just slightly shorter than Polondrun, standing at 190 centimeters. She had fiery red hair and freckles on her white skin. Her eyes were brown, unlike the very fiery vibe she gave off.
“Hello, my name is Polondrun, but you can call me Drun. What’s your name?”
The woman nodded her head in his direction, her large hat swaying.
“My name is Cyra, a pleasure to meet you. And you are?”
She turned to Wyrmlok.
“I am the great Magician, Wyrmlok!”
“...Ok? We sure have some colorful names in this group, to be sure.”
There was once more a flash of light, another victim to the systems temptation of a wall. But once more, the person resisted. This time a man turned around. He was decked out in skin-tight black leather clothing, black hair, black skin, everything about him screamed black, except his eyes, which were bright blue.
“Hello, my name is Polondrun, but you can call me Drun. What's your name?”
The man turned towards us, taking a stance on one leg, arms raised.
“My name is Jet. Jet the eternal darkness.”
“...Ok? Is that your actual name?”
Jet dropped his arms back to his side.
“HA! No! I’m just kidding you. My name’s Nigel, nice to be working with you.”
“Hello, my name is Cyra.”
Nigel nodded his head towards Cyra then turned towards Wyrmlok.
“I am the great Magician, Wyrmlok!”
“Uhh. That’s your real name? It’s even weirder than Polondrun. Can I just call you Lok?”
Wyrmlok looked at Nigel with shock.
“No, you can’t just call me “Lok”. My name is great, I am the great magician, Wyrmlok! Not the great Magician Lok. Pff sounds so stupid.”
Nigel looked at the other two, but they just shrugged their shoulders.
“Okay, I’ll call you Wyrmlok.”
Wyrmlok smiled.
“Good. I shall return the favor by calling you, not Nigel, but Jet.”
Nigel, now Jet, looked to the side, covering his face with his hands. Wyrmlok could barely hear a whisper.
“Why did I introduce myself like that?”
Wyrmlok patted Jet on the shoulder.
“You and me, we will go far in life, Jet, you already have a title. What is your class?”
“... Rogue.”
“Yes! You will be Jet, The eternal darkness Rogue. It has a very nice ring to it.”
Another flash of light interrupted his conversation.
There another woman stood, sporting a shaved head, wearing orange robes like the sunset, unlike Cyras robes, that are like fire. These robes were tied tight to her and she also had what looked like bandages tightly wound around her hands and feet. She had tan skin even darker than Polondruns. Her eyes were closed at the moment, so he couldn't see what was going on under the lids.
This time around the newbie took the initiative.
“Hello everybody. My name is Rose. Nice to meet you. Just be warned, I can be a little prickly… You know, because my name is rose?…”
“Oh, hahaha! Yes! I get it!”
Wyrmlok once again had a laugh attack, falling to his knees, wheezing.
“Jeez. Tough crowd.”
After the joke, all the others introduced themselves, until finally, it was his turn. Unfortunately, he was still laughing. But Polondrun stepped in for him.
“His name is Wyrmlok.”
Wyrmlok looked at Polondrun in betrayal. He had forgotten to add “the great Magician” part.
Another flash of light, another man. This man was small, definitely the shortest out of all of them. He had blond hair, blue eyes, and snow-white skin. He was dressed in a white robe.
“Hello, my name is Polondrun, but you can call me Drun. What’s your name?”
Before the man could answer, Wyrmlok stopped laughing and looked at Polundrun.
“Are you even gonna mix it up a little? I mean, how many times have you said that. Shit’s wack. Now you, small man in the white robe. I am the great Magician, Wyrmlok! This goes for you too Rose.”
The small man in the robe snorted. But eventually just shrugged his shoulders.
“My names is James everybody. Put it in your mind, less it put you in a bind.”
Wyrmlok smiled.
“A poet.”
James shook his head.
“I prefer the term, Rapper.”
“Poet it is. Hehe!”
James looked at him with an annoyed look on his face but was then distracted by another flash of light.
A woman turned around. An absolute brute. She was just as tall as Wyrmlok and twice as bulky. She sported large muscles everywhere. Her skin had a light tan. Her hair was a chestnut brown paired with the same color eyes.
“Hello. My name is Polondrun, but you can call me Drun. What’s your name?”
“Dude, seriously. You’re like a broken record.”
Polondrun merely shrugged his shoulders at that.
“I-I-I-I-I. M-my name is Olivia. Oh my god! I can’t believe I just said that. Ah, I'm still talking out loud. Oh my gosh!”
“For such a hulking brute, your voice is surprisingly high pitched.”
Everyone looked at Wyrmlok.
“Dude. You don’t just say that.”
Jet seemed to disapprove of Wyrmloks' choice of words.
“Ah, allow me to rephrase. Is there a little girl hiding on your person? HAHAHA! Umph!”
Olivia had shot across the room and buried her fist in Wyrmloks stomach.
“Yup. I deserve that. But still…”
His vision was going black.
“It.. Was... Still... Worth it….”
Wyrmlok lost consciousness.