Jerome appeared in a lush forest completely alone and still drunk as all hell.
The trees themselves were tall with green leaves and spiky trunks. Underbrush had a blue-ish tint and almost seemed to tilt towards him. He reached out and they recoiled like a scared cat. Interesting.
Beside him a fist-sized purple insect buzzed happily. If he had been on earth he might have been scared by it. Hell, if he was sober he might have been scared of it. As it was, he merely looked at it with curiousity until it flew away.
As far as prisons went, this wasn’t bad.
He decided to go explore his new cage. Were there paths through this forest? Was there anyone else here with him?
As he walked he picked up a stick and started swinging it absentmindedly. Absent of mind. He didn’t even consciously process that he was doing it. That made the text that appeared in his vision all the more surprising.
Oh no. I broke a prison rule.
He dropped the stick and put his hands up. Only after the panic subsided did he bother to read the text:
You have gained the skill Swordsmanship. 1% of the way to level 2.
Well this was interesting.
He turned his head and the message still stuck. Go away, he thought, and then the message went away. Nice!
He picked up the stick and started swinging it some more. Although no more blatant messages popped up, he found that if he focused his curiousity on his swordsmanship he could get something like a progress bar.
Swordsmanship, Level 1. 2% progress.
Whatever place those nasty alien-hiding government employees had sent him to, it was pretty cool. When he got back his guild-mates would be super jealous. Maybe they’d all sneak into the government facility as well. Wait, what if they all did it together and made the employees tell them what’s up? His mind swam with possibilities before realizing that he might not ever make it out.
They had called it “New Australia” as in the old penal colony, not “New Carribean Island Cruise”.
Maybe, if this was a game-world, he could find an exit-screen.
He focused his curiousity on settings but nothing happened. Controls? Menu? Then he focused his curiousity on himself and found that he could pull up a status screen.
Name: Jerome Wallaby
Race: Human
Level 1, 0% progress
100/100 HP
100/100 MP
100/100 SP
Statuses: Drunk (Agility -30%, Dexterity -50%, Focus -50%, Fearless)
Strength: 10
Endurance: 10
Agility: 10 (7)
Focus: 10 (5)
Dexterity: 10 (5)
Connection: 10
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Skills
Special Abilities
Swordsmanship Level 1, 2% progress
None
Oh good! He was stuck inside an RPG. That was something he understood. And MP… that meant there was magic to be had.
He looked at his current status and smiled to himself. Being drunk here was pretty much exactly how it was on earth. He was glad this game didn’t have a “wisdom” score because of the effect his drunkenness might have had on that.
Jerome would have been happy to swing his stick around by himself and explore his stats for quite some time when the loveliest thing caught his eye: a woman!
She was fit, thin and muscular, running through the woods with a determined gleam in her eye. Her armor was light-weight, a camo brown and green getup with hints of blue, and Jerome noted that it covered up entirely too much of her body compared to other games. Some part of this game had to be punishment, right? Still, each movement was efficient and graceful.
Jerome enjoyed the sight, watching in a open-mouthed drunken stupor. Her stats didn’t come up because he had no curiousity about them.
Behind her there was motion. Two motions, small and nasty, covered in fur but running upright at a furious speed. Fangs bared, clubs held in hand and ready for swinging. They were chasing the girl! This was… this was a quest! A rescue quest!
No other prompting was needed. Jerome gripped his stick firmly in both hands and ran towards the two beastly assailants.
“Unhand her!” he shouted, despite it making no sense — their hand-like appendages weren’t even close to the woman — but he wasn’t going to let that ruin the moment. It just sounded like the right thing to say.
They turned towards him. Good! His plan was already working! He pulled the stick back and, when he got close enough, swung it like a baseball bat at one of the beasts.
The beast blocked the sword-stick-bat with its club, and Jerome’s weapon snapped in two. At least one end was sharp now? The other beast slammed his club into Jerome’s ribs and Jerome tumbled sideways in pain.
50% health gone? Not fair! This prison-game was throwing quests at him that were far too hard.
Maybe that was the punishment? Drop you in at level 1. All quests require level 20. Die continually until your sentence is up.
He turned on his back and held the now-pointy stick towards the assailants. The beast swung his club again and Jerome rolled to the side, gratefully hearing the thunk of club into ground beside him. However, there were two beasts, and the second one had a clear shot: the club hit Jerome square in the back, taking off another 40% of his health.
Another thunk rang out in his ears, and because of the lack of (new) sources of pain, Jerome assumed he had died.
That’s why he flopped on the ground, unmoving. The two beasts also assumed his death due to said flopping, and due to the fact that the previously fleeing damsel-in-distress was now kicking their asses.
It was kind of distracting.
Both creatures swung and she dodged both blows handily. The first one she merely dodged. The second she sidestepped while using her hands to guide the offending arm further forward, knocking the creature off balance. Then energy burst from her hands, causing the club-wielding arm to shoot backwards, taking the creature with it. The creature recovered its balance after three steps, but three steps was enough. It gave her time to focus on the other creature, the one whose blow she had merely dodged.
It stepped back cautiously, showing a new restraint. The girl feinted a kick, causing the creature to flinch and try to block the attack, before she lunged forward, placed her hands on the thing’s chest and activated whatever awesome power she had. The creature rocketed backwards from the energy burst, stopping only when it slammed into a nearby tree.
Jerome realized by this time that he was not in fact dead, and that this damsel was still in some amount of distress. He took his stick, walked over to the one who was slumped again a tree, and started poking it with the sharp end. Despite its near-catatonic state the creature grabbed the stick and pulled Jerome close.
The stench of dirty breath and bloodied animal was overwhelming, even to Jerome’s alcohol-muddled brain.
“You humans,” it spat, “you’re all the same. Nothing but destruction and hate. I’ll be glad to die protecting my clan from you.”
It raked weakly at Jerome, taking off another 6% from his health bar. Jerome moved out of the thing’s reach. Only 4% health left! He felt like collapsing on the ground again, so that’s what he did.
Thirty seconds later, after the sounds of battle died down, he saw the beautiful angelic damsel standing over him looking angry but otherwise no worse for wear.
“Oh good,” he said. “I rescued you.”