I lied. Here’s another chapter before I go.

Again… I’m getting ahead of myself with Ozy and Staub – but since they won’t meet up with the other two for a while it doesn’t really matter plot-wise yet. (Now all major players… save one… are in place!)

(A/N: I mean no offense to anyone. I’m just using stereotypes. I have nothing against Germans, Americans or Poles.)

Time: 4 days after Ozzy joined the cause.

Chapter 4.2: A Clash of Cultures

Maria Herbig was what one might call a trophy-wife. She was had all the necessary attributes. Pretty. Charming. Unobtrusive. Yielding. Subservient. Etc. Her husband was one of the chief executives of Bayer AG. Due to his highly competitive job, he was hardly ever home. (She actually preferred it that way.) She had married him for his money. He had married her for her looks and demeanor, but mostly he had needed a wife at the time. At a certain point in a man’s career he needs a wife to be invited to the right parties and events.

They had four children. Markus, Peter, Sandra and Maximilian. They lived in Grünwald, Germany. Her husband had always provided her with the material benefits that came with the job. As long as she took care of the kids and put up a good front – he could concentrate on his work. In the early stages of her marriage she had taken advantage of this fact to the extreme… she had grown up on the poorer side of life and was experiencing luxury for the first time. Her parents were both Polish and had moved to Germany for a ‘better life’. She was born in Germany but experienced the stigmatism Germans have for Poles while growing up. She still did.

Her children attended an international school. This was due to various reasons. The public schooling system in Germany was quite harsh. In fifth grade it was decided whether a child would go into the Gymnasium, the Realschule or the Hauptschule. The outcome would greatly influence the path of a child’s life. The Gymnasium tended to ‘yield’ the good students that would go on to University for professions such as that of a doctor or a lawyer. One could move up from the Realschule or the Hauptschule – but the process was quite difficult.

When Markus, the eldest, hadn’t gotten into the Gymnasium – it hadn’t been because the boy was stupid. He had just been lazy. His father, Alex, had then decided that his kids would be attending the international school. Many of the executives at his company came from international backgrounds, so their kids were also in the international school. Alex saw this as an opportunity for social networking. From then on all of his kids attended the international school.

Though Maria was a little reluctant to agree to this, she eventually gave in. ‘After all, it’s not like the school is any worse because we have to pay for it. Plus… they can learn English. Plus…the school days are longer.’ Taking care of all four of the kids by herself was quite stressful at times. But she was a good mother, so she didn't mind. She also didn't mind the fact that she would get some more time for herself though.

Over the years this backfired though. Her kids were now teenagers. Max, the youngest, was 13 and Markus, the eldest was 16. The other two were 14 and 15 respectively. As teenagers they didn't want anything to do with their parents anymore. When they came home they would usually lock themselves into their rooms until dinner. She wasn't too worried – remembering her own rebellious years. But she was bored.

She had spent years visiting Maximilianstraße, the most expensive street in Munich. It was known as the hang-out of the rich. She had never quite fit in with her Polish heritage and four kids. Poles weren’t precisely disliked in Germany… they were just kind of… put to the side. And the four kids? Well… In Germany that’s a no-no. Three kids was already kind of pushing it. Her husband had also been reluctant but Maria hadn’t cared. Growing up as an only child she had always wanted a large family. But she was bored.

Her kids had recently begun playing a game called Royal Road. It made the house really quiet. She made sure they were on top of their schoolwork – but every single one of them spent all the time they could in the game. They had made quite a big deal about getting the game. Pestering her for weeks. Royal Road wasn’t big yet in Germany but her kids went to an international school so they got wind of the global trends before they were actually ‘active’.

After Markus had gotten the game she couldn't not get it for her other kids. Being fair was expensive. But she had money so that was alright. She cringed at the fights there had been in those first days when she had thought only one capsule would be enough. She didn't really understand what all the big fuss was about. As their mother she could check their vid-logs to see what they were up to – after all they were under age.

At meal times it was all they talked about. She only ever saw them at meal times. She felt a little left out.

One day a couple weeks after they had the capsules installed she was sitting on the couch being bored. She had made breakfast. Made sure they all had lunch money. Sent them off to school. Put away the dishes. Put away their dirty clothes. Cleaned up. And now she was thinking about what she would make for dinner – 7 hours away. She could have had a housekeeper… ‘But then what would I do with myself all day.’ So she took the pleasure in small things.

‘It can’t be pasta. I made lasagna yesterday. Maybe Spargel. We had Spargel the day before yesterday – but it’s Spargel season. I have to take advantage of it…’

Having made her decision she now sat, gazing out of the window.

5 minutes later.

20 minutes later..

30 minutes later…

‘I guess I’ll give it a try. The kids won’t be home for a while and I have nothing else to do. Maybe I’ll figure out why they like it so much.’

She went up to Sandra’s room. She was the most amicable of her children. Maria didn't know if tracking the people who logged into the capsule was possible – and she didn't want her boys to know. ‘I can’t drop the mask of authority in front of those boys. They will walk all over me if I do. And what kind of authority figure plays video games?’ So she used Sandra’s capsule when she logged on.

Connect to Royal Road?

Yes | No

“Yes.”

-- The scan on your iris and vein has determined that you are an unregistered user. Do you want to create a new account?

“Will it delete the previous account?”

-- No previous accounts are registered to you as a user.

“In that case, yes.”

--Select the name of your avatar.

“Staub.” This means dust in German. She thought she was being quite witty since she was a housewife and all. She chuckled to herself.

--Select your gender from male, female or neutral.

“Fem… Neutral”

‘Why not? This is a game I might as well try something fun. I’m kind of tired of being labeled as the pretty one. That’s not all I’m good for you know? I still have a personality.’

--Royal Road has forty-nine races. You may select your race from the primary twenty-nine. These races include, human, dwarf, elf…

“Human.”

--You may alter your appearance to a certain degree, at least 25% of your original appearance must be maintained.”

An image of her appeared. She decided to make some changes. She wasn't worried about anyone recognizing her. The only people she knew who played the game were her kids and she wasn't going to be playing while they were – so there wasn't any danger of running into them. But she had always been defined by what she looked like. As Alex’s wife she had always made sure to have the perfect hair, the perfect clothes, the perfect make up and the perfect look. She decided to let go and do what she wanted.

“Make me taller.” She was 170cm in real life – an average height for a woman in Germany.

“Make my hair blue.”

“Make it shorter… shorter. Make it close cropped at the bottom and about 4 cm at the top, give it a forwards combed look. And now make it come to a triangular fringe at the front.”

“Oh! And give me some frosted tips.”

“Give me purple eyes.”

“Make my shoulders broader. My nose broader. My lips thinner – not that much. A more defined jaw… yeah right there.”

And so it went on until…

-- 25% of your original appearance must be maintained. If any further changes are wished a reduction of other changes will be required.

‘Well I guess this is fine.’

Maria had just spent almost two game hours on her appearance.

-- Here is a person who get's the idea of: You get to choose what you look like!! --

Appearance was a very big deal for her as it was what was expected of her. The end result of Staub’s appearance was this:

A very handsome young man/girl. It had a masculine feel about it though. She had styled the eyebrows to give it a bit of a permanent scowl/displeased look. She had also made the jaw slightly more square than that of a woman’s. It could pass for a masculine woman or a feminine man though. She was very pleased. She was also a little curious about the treatment she would get as a man. Maria had always been a little jealous of the other gender. ‘Nobody gives a shit what you look like when you’re a man. All you need is cash. If you’re a woman with cash… you still need to look good. Otherwise you’re just ambitious and hard.’

Staub had no noticeable breasts. She had gotten rid of the boobs completely. ‘Having a big rack isn’t all its made out to be. My back knows.’ It had a lean, athletic look. Yes – she was very pleased.

The most noticeable aspect of her appearance though, other than the blue hair were the piercings she had given Staub. There was a ring in her right eyebrow, one on the left side of her bottom lip - and her ears were engulfed by bits of metal. There was a chain connecting the ring in her lip to one in her left ear. ‘Heh heh. I can’t damage my real body – but I always wanted to look kind of like a bad-ass.’

-- Your account has been activated. Your stats and class shall be determined while you are playing Royal Road¬.

“Alright.”

--Select the city and kingdom in which you want to start.

“Fort Feranisburg.”

It’s where her kids were. She chose it just because it was familiar.

--You will now be guided through the introductory guide.

“No thanks.”

She figured she knew enough – having watched some her kid’s video logs… She was very bored.

----------

*Flash*

She re-oriented herself and went through all the usual ‘wow – this is amazing – so real stuff’.

Maria liked the place. She could see why her kids would like it here.

The people at the square were giving her looks she wasn't used to. She was accustomed to being ogled at by men, but this was different. Both genders seem to give her attention and while they all looked at her appreciatively they also seemed a little apprehensive – and scared. ‘I kind-a like it.’ Maria looked like a certified Barbie – the looks she got were complimenting but also condescending.

That’s when Staub decided she was going to be a warrior in the melee class. She knew a bit about the professions from seeing the ones her kids had chosen. Both of her oldest had chosen to be warriors. They seemed to get most of the action – she wanted action now. But Staub also wanted to be feared. The looks around her were fueling her intentions.

‘Oh I’m going to be so bad.’

She headed to the training hall. She didn't even have to ask – courtesy to child-stalking.

Arriving at the training hall she saw numerous people milling about. She was looking for the instructor when Flavius walked up to her. He also seemed to give her a look that held more than a little apprehension. ‘Love it!’

-“Hello, my name is Flavius. Would you require some assistance? I could show you the basics if you would like.”

“Yes please, that would be great.”

He showed her how to lunge, thrust, stab and slash. He walked her through a few of the most basic maneuvers, showing her how to place her steps appropriately. She paid close attention. Asking him to go over steps she wasn’t sure about. There weren’t many. ‘After all those aerobic classes – this is a piece of cake! You should try following an over-enthusiastic Zumba instructor once!’

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Staub began to get the hang of it. She was lunging and hitting at the scarecrow as she had been instructed. The force she was using began to rise and sweat poured out of her. All the pent up frustration that she had – she let out onto the scarecrow. She had an easy life – all was going for her but she also had her issues. Her husband was cheating on her. That she didn't really mind. There had never been much love in the relationship to begin with. What she did mind was that she couldn't cheat on him. If she did – it would eventually bite her in the ass. She wasn't willing to risk losing her kids. She was also really tired of the trophy-wife status. She let it all out.

At first her rage-fueled venting on the scarecrow was rough, the movements choppy. But as her limbs tired, they fell into the rhythm the instructor had shown her. She went at it for hours. Until eventually a window popped up.

Your stamina has increased by 1. (+1 STM)

As she was looking over her stats and the implications of it all, Flavius walked up to her. He had tears in his eyes.

-“Thank you! Oh thank you so much! You have dispelled all doubts I had in myself. After that kid… and then that old man… I thought I had lost my gift as an instructor… but you! You’re a natural. I know now that it was not my fault that I couldn’t teach them the art of the sword. It was them! Something is wrong with them! Not me!”

She was very confused by all this.

“I’m sorry I don’t know what you mean. Who are you talking about?”

Flavius proceeded to tell the story of a young boy named Foot and an old man named Ozy.

----------

Foot’s story we already know… so:

>>> fast-forward in Flavius’s tale >>>

“…and so the boy gave up the sword in favor of his legs. I mean his legs as combat weapon. How ridiculous is that? Initially I thought it was his fault – I mean no person in their right mind would choose to give up the strength of the sword right?” He didn't wait for any acknowledgement from Staub.

“But then! Not two days latter an old man with a staff shows up.” Flavius gave the little old man who had been ferociously punching the shit out of one of the scarecrows the whole time he had been talking a look. It was a furtive look but it held a little bit of contempt – and if she was not fooled a bit of anger as well. ‘I figure that’s the old man in his story – don’t see no staff though. This guy is all fists.’ His appearance didn't match his actions at all. By the way the scarecrow was heaving back and forth by each of his blows she knew they must pack quite some power. She herself had been hitting a scarecrow for hours. ‘Not much fazes those little bastards.’

Staub redirected her gaze at Flavius and concentrated on the story he was telling. “I tried teaching him the ways of the sword – but he wouldn't learn. He told me, “No offense mister, but this shit is for panzies – Do I look like a panzie to you?”. I mean I never. “No offense…” Well of course I was offended. I have invested all of my life. All of my sweat and blood into this beautiful craft – and then he discarded it just like that!”

Flavius shot the old man – still going at it – another look.

“And that’s when he – quickly points at man – began punching the scarecrows. He has been here for four days and he has already destroyed five of my scarecrows. I’m a sword master – not a hay-stuffer. But alas – someone has to repair all the damages made… But I digress. You!” Flavius grabbed Staub’s hand and had a pleading/hope filled look in his face.

“You give me hope. After those two – I thought I had ended my teaching career. If people are choosing… body parts… over swords I thought for sure I must be doing something wrong. But then you came up and you are the most promising student I have had thus far! Because of you I have been able to re-gain my pride and I have been able to shed my doubt. Come I will show you my secret technique as a sign of thanks!”

As they walked towards the scarecrows Staub was now conscious of the old man’s presence. She figured he must have been there all along, but now the blows he was giving the scarecrow registered to her ears. Boom. Boom. Boom. They were loud and echoing across the entire hall. ‘Well shiiiit. This guy gives the saying “don’t judge a book by its cover” a whole another meaning.

Flavius showed Staub what he called the guillotine. It consisted of steps which allowed the user to target the limbs consecutively. Right arm – left leg – left arm – right leg. The sword would move in a figure eight pattern gaining momentum which was then used to target the neck. It was a complex move and Staub had some trouble getting the hand of it.

After hours under Flavius’ tutelage she started piecing the move together and getting parts of it right. Sweat was now pouring out of her. Her arms were hanging by her sides – they were mush. But then!

You have learned Guillotine: It is a complex number of moves that is very difficult to pull off but it is incredibly powerful when performed correctly. Agility increases by 100% and strength increases by 200% in the duration of the attack. Mana: 70.

‘Wow. With my current Mana – I’ll only be able to use this once.’ After hours of training she had only been able to perform it once correctly – she wasn't surprised.

Flavius was pleased and finally left her. She had been driven by his motivation and constant watchful eye – she probably wouldn't have lasted that long hitting the scarecrows had it not been for his vigilance.

She walked towards a wall and slumped down. Her satisfaction levels were dangerously low – she had gotten a message so she had to eat. She decided to take a break.

Staub looked through her inventory – she knew she was given some bread – and took some out. As she was slowly consuming the thing – it didn't taste very good. (This went beyond what other characters felt towards this bread – she was very dissatisfied with the bread. She was aware of its poor quality due to the wrong ingredients, the wrong measure of preparation – and even the wrong length of baking. Though she was of Polish heritage… she was basically German. German’s know their bread. Don’t mess with them and their bread.)

She was scowling as she ate the bread and then she sighed in disgust.

-“What are you pissed about?!” A gruff voice asked from beside her. She was taken by surprise, not having noticed anyone there.

She glanced at the man who had spoken. It was the guy who had been ferociously beating the scarecrows. Though Staub had been mostly concentrating on the lessons Flavius had given her, she had also been constantly aware of this man’s presence in the hall. She had hear the monotonous, boom… boom… boom… boom… in the background. She had even used those same sounds to help her with her rhythm. He was also soaked in sweat.

“Oh… I was just thinking about the low quality of this bread…”

-“Low quality. -snorts- Be grateful you got some.” He said loudly and then seemed to mumble something about… “…ungrateful punk… people nowadays don’t even appreciate things that are given to them anymore…”

“…What do you mean? Didn't you get some bread too? I thought all beginners received 10 loaves when they began.”

-“Yah. Well. This one didn't.”

“Why not?”

-“How the hell am I supposed to know that? Do I look like I designed this game to you?!”

“…”

-“As far as I know… I get dumped in this place that has no firepower mind you… with no food. You know what I did get though? This damn staff.” He shook the staff he was holding violently for emphasis. “If I’m not doing something with my hands its automatically there. Doesn't matter if I pack the bastard into my inventory. It somehow manages to appear in my hands when they are idle. I tried throwing it away. Losing it. Giving it away. Breaking it. Burning it. You name it. The sucker just comes back. It doesn't even have any uses. All it says in the item description is: ‘Dumbledore’s staff’. What kind of a shitty explanation is that!? As far as I know the man didn't even have a staff. He was a wizard. The guy had a wand! At this point a wand would be better – I could at least tuck it into my clothes or something. No can do for this piece of shit though! Have you seen the size of this thing??” Staub did notice that the staff was at least 2m in length while the man must be around 150cm.

Staub didn't see the man letting off on his tirade about the staff anytime soon… it seemed they had some history… so she interrupted. “You saying you got a staff in exchange for food then? You want some of mine?” While the man did seem gruff around the edges – she kind of liked him… kind of.

-“Do I look like some sort of beggar to you?! No thanks.” He pulled out his own piece of bread and began eating. “Just because I’m old doesn't mean I’m incompetent, punk. I got hands. I can make my own way… though I do miss my guns. I still can’t believe this place doesn't have any. What has happened to the youth of this age when they don’t enjoy shooting things anymore? This is why conscription should be mandatory! People got to know how to shoot guns! Protect our nation! Fight for our freedom! No guns. What a joke.”

Staub wondered why he still played if he felt so strongly about these things but kept it to herself. ‘Not mandatory conscription… he’s not German that’s for sure. I bet he’s American. He seems very American. Very proud.’ She wondered about the translation in the game. It was excellent. To her he was speaking in German and to him she figured it would sound like she was speaking English. She briefly wondered about what would happen if she used a German word that English didn't have a translation for – like Schadenfreude.

“Well I meant no disrespect sir. It's my first day here and I am still getting the hang of things... My name is Staub, what’s yours?”

-“It’s Ozy.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you Ozy. I noticed earlier that you seem quite good with your hands.”

**REPLACE inappropriate 'that's what she said' joke... smirk... move on...**

-“Haha! Yeah I’ve been in my fair share of brawls. More than fair probably. You’re not a real military man until you’ve split a lip or two. What about you punk? What’s your story? From the looks I would’ve said you were some kind of hipster-looser. But from the skills you showed out there… well… Your tenacity impresses me… And you seem to mind your elders. Guess looks don’t matter much eh?”

Laughs. “I was thinking the exact same thing about you actually.”

They gave each other brief nods of understanding/camaraderie. Nothing like scarecrows to bring people together.

“Well… I’m gonna go hit some hay. At least this bastard…” gestures to staff, “…stays put when my hands are busy. You coming punk?”

‘So I’m the ‘punk’ now huh? I gotta say… I kinda like it.’

Chapter 4.3

----

There. That's actually it for a while now.

Sorry for introducing all these characters.

The plan is Ozy and Maria will run parallel to Foot and Mist for a while. Hope that makes sense.

Suggestions, comments, recommendations, etc. appreciated.

Thanks (: