Chapter 3 – Worldly Concerns
Part 1
“I’m bored’ is a useless thing to say. I mean, you live in a great, big, vast world that you’ve seen none percent of. Even the inside of your own mind is endless; it goes on forever, inwardly, do you understand? The fact that you’re alive is amazing, so you don’t get to say ‘I’m bored.”
– Louis C.K.
– ***** –
Still three weeks before breakdown (IGT)
The vast woods were quiet like Death itself, all of it entirely occupied by the Undead. Well not entirely! One indomitable adventurer’s small campsite still held out against the invaders. And death was not easy for the legions of undead who roam the forests of the Kingdom of Erwyn!
Well… That was mostly wishful thinking on Elric’s part though. In all truth, mobs under the control of a boss or mini-boss would take at least two IG days to respawn after their overlord was killed, similarly to most dungeons. Another possibility, less frequent, was for the commander to be some sort of unique creature or onetime event, in which case they a priori never came back. The monsters of the surrounding areas would then slowly expand their territories, filling the newly vacant zone. Either way, Elric was a priori safe, which didn’t stop him from warding his camp.
“Irresponsible, yes. Overconfident, no.”
He didn’t want to be taken aback by the sudden aggression of an [A-Piori-Not-There Slasher Spectre] that didn’t read the memo.
He picked another lying piece of wood, drop of a [Withered Treant], threw it in the campfire, and crouched next to it, admiring the perfectly rendered virtual flames as they devour the likewise unsuspectedly software-created crackling log. For a while he stayed like this, lost in thoughts, before stepping back a bit. Blinking to rid his eyes of the afterimage, he opened his inventory and took out his map. To any onlooker, it would have seemingly appeared out of thin air.
Elric smirked at the thought.
This little trick never got old. Of course, in areas with high player-density, NPCs where too blasé to care, but in backwater villages, where adventurers were scarce, kids loved his little illusionist act. For that purpose, he always kept with him a few candies and dolls, sitting in his inventory next to other notoriously useless stuff. He actually made the puppets himself, over time raising both his sewing and tailoring skill to intermediate and even the sub-skill [Doll Making] to advanced.
He would gather the children of a village, and make the toys pop into existence while striking flashy poses and mumbling nonsensical incantations, enjoying himslef under the “Oooooh”s and “Aaaaaaah”s of the mesmerized audience. The little spectators, each clutching a little cloth dummy, would then rush back to showcase their new treasure to their parents, who of course were watching at a distance – Never let your kids alone with a suspicious-looking man promising toys and candies…
One funny detail though: As a man with a very vague notion of the monetary value of things, Elric would always use the nearest available material to craft his dolls. Often, that ended up being the spoils from his latest kill. A batch of unicorn hair worth 200 gold? Perfect this elf’s braid. Wyvern skin worth 5 000? The scally pattern worked wonders as this little knight’s armour. [Giant Mite] wing? A gown for a princess. [Tiger King] fangs? This little green-clad fellow could use a carved ocarina. Most of his creations therefore were luxurious enough as not to be out of place in any noble’s house, but were instead being played with and dragged through the dirt by clueless village children. Not that Elric ever gave it much thought.
With his heightened couturier’s skills, he had also crafted himself a long mantle, trousers, and a conic woollen-like hat, of course out of the pelts of a [Blazing Red Grizzly] and a [White Moon Wolf], two of the most dangerous, and, predictably enough, highly marketable monsters he could find – It wasn’t on purpose, really. He wore the set on snowy days, entering villages carrying a huge doll-filled bag over his shoulder, ringing a beautiful, clear-sounding set of bells – the [Sanctified Carillon of Cleansing], long lost treasure of the Church of Astrea – with his face covered by a fake beard made of the leftover moon wolf fur. He would then proceed to distribute the content of his bag, while laughing a loud “OH OH OH!” His behaviour perplexed the NPCs. They of course couldn’t get the joke, but Elric never cared. He got his kick out of it, and that’s all that mattered.
“If there’s fun to have, take it! If not, make it!” That was Elric’s gaming philosophy. One could say that progress and efficiency had always been the last thing on his mind when roaming the vast game world.
– *** –
Shaking off his reveries, the still-very-much-lost knight *slash* wannabe Santa concentrated his thoughts on the map in his hand. Unfolding it, he frowned as the ambient darkness wasn’t exactly reading-friendly. He sighted and casted his favourite minor lighting spell, [Lantern of the Selfish One]. A small orb of amber light immediately came hovering around his head, diffusing a faint glow only visible to himself. Very useful when camping outside in a hostile area. Thieves would often use a magical item with similar effects, namely the [Hand of Glory]. Possessing this creepy-looking alternative was one of Elric secret wishes. – Supposedly, the design was cool… – Sadly for him, all undead-related objects would instantaneously crumble under the effect of his [Cleansing Solar Touch].
This passive skill couldn’t be deactivated, and the godless paladin had more than once destroyed presumably invaluable artefacts because of his carelessness ~tehee~ *knock his head, tong peeking out*. Being the only person he knew to suffer from this particular problem, Elric had guessed it to be some side effect from his hidden class. Indeed, having all the powers of a holly knight without any of the usual restrictions would probably have been way too broken if not for a few unwieldy quirks.
Making the best out of a condition he couldn’t change, Elric was still quite satisfied with his orange – salutarily mute – Kokiri-ish fairy, which he affectionately baptized “Ma Sunny”. It also had the non-negligible advantage of being hands-free, thus giving him a clear upper hand – no pun intended – in fights where he could perfectly see the enemy, while they remain in the dark.
Under the warm light, Elric studied the map spread on his lap, trying to figure out where the hell he was. The cheap, amateurishly drawn, travel-mistreated piece of parchment unfortunately only outlined the main features, roads and towns of the region centred on Cali. The other nearby cities were namely Kelborg in the North, Ashen in the North-East, and Dalh somewhat in the West-South-West. All three stood about three weeks on foot from Cali. The South-East was a big inkless mystery which he had intended to thoroughly explore after getting some fresh supplies. His last stop had been in Ashen, which was also where he got the map. He had some magical auto-editing ones, of course, but those were consumables. Once filled, they would stay that way. So he kept them for dungeons and the likes.
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Eventually spotting his location, he learnt he was now in the [Lost Woods]. The irony didn’t escape him. Although, to be fair, given the current state of the country, most of the landmarks had been colourfully renamed. The chances were thus not that low for one to find himself agonising in the [Forest of Utmost Despair], or to be ripped open on the shores of the [Lake of Spilled Guts], not to mention the [Chasm of AAAAAAAAAAAAAaaa…]<1>. “Lost” was in fact quite a mild denomination in this god forsaken place.
– *** –
The road Elric followed from Ashen first snaked for a while among low hills. Those were infested with herds of [Squared Stallion] and [Night Mare]. If unlucky, one could even come across an occasional named [Erring Fallen Steed “XXX”]. But apparently someone forgot to tell the latter about the “occasional” bit. On his way, [Unamused Elric] had successively faced “Candy”, “Tornado”, “Chance”, “Rocky”, “Bella”, “Edward”, “Mister Joe”, “Lady”, “Jack”, “Rossie”, “Blacky”, ”Dakota”, “Clément-Gauthier de Longchamp Troisième du Nom”, “Stormy”, “Magic”, two “Zephyr”, three “Missy”, SEVEN “Princess”, as well as a very weary-looking one, even by undead standards, bearing the self-esteem-shattering name of “Asparagus” – the poor hack was granted a swift death.
The winding lane then reached the [Lost Wood], crossing it straight to Cali. “Road”, or even “lane”, was actually quite a praising term to describe the large bumpy grass-filled dirt path. In fact, most of the Erwynian travel-ways had long since fallen in disrepair. Nobody used them anymore, except for some intrepid messengers. Commerce was inexistent and each township was auto-sufficient. Its inhabitants would live their whole lives without ever leaving the security of their hometown and its spell-reinforced walls. Even the king had at some point given up on sending tax collectors.
The “Kingdom” of Erwyn was now kingdom in name only. Since several decades ago, it had become no more than a collection of city-states coexisting in an inescapable hellhole. The royal family still supposedly existed, but, even if that was true, they only ruled over the capital Shaun, and the rest of the country really didn’t care much.
The cause of this unique predicament was mainly geographical. If Elric hadn’t been yet able to determine the origins of the morbid pandemic, nor the date of its initial outbreak for that matter, the reason was pretty damn obvious as to why the disease/curse never spread past the border. Same thing with why the citizens didn’t flee, or more correctly couldn’t. Anyone with a continental map and a bit of knowledge about monster demography could tell.
The whole kingdom, the [Erwynian Plateau] in fact – Discovery: +1000 Fame. Yeah… – , was part of gigantic highlands, the [Tiamat Mountain Range], and surrounded by an essentially impassable, and completely undead-proof, uneven wall of rock. Its summit was furthermore populated by myriads of very very high level monsters.
The natural barrier had spared the rest of the continent, but trapped the population inside. Elric wasn’t sure the “outside” was even aware of the existence of this secluded nation, let alone its catastrophic circumstances. For what he had seen of the realm so far, it looked frozen in time, with centuries of retard compared to the rest of the Continent. This pointed towards an absence of contact going back far before the “Great Demise”, as the locals called it. Difficult to say who in the world even remembered this shitty remote piece of Hell.
As for adventurers, to say they were scarce would be an understatement. Truth be told, even if they could, nobody would voluntarily enter a country where only walking corpses of all sorts could be found. Undead were very unpopular – poor them – amongst players. They were ugly, stinky, far too resistant, and casted all sorts of debuffs. On top of that, they only gave measly experience, and even less interesting loot, since most of it would be broken, rusted, rotten, or cursed – Seriously, it’s not like it was their fault: “NO” to discrimination against zombies!
In a word like in a thousand, it would take an idiot with half a damaged brain and a serious death fetish – in more than one meaning – to wander around in this crazy immense Graveyard Surprise Party. Well, guess who was the one and only adventurer dumb enough to do so?
F’cking genius!
– ***** –
<1> The French-speaking readers might get the small tribute to “Reflet d’Acide”.
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How can so many handwritten pages turn into so little text is clearly outside of the realm of my understanding…
This one was probably less funny I guess. It’s not like I really seek the jokes, so I’m not sure.
On a side note, in the eventual occurrence of someone accusing me of plagiarising Fantasia’s Fey with Elric’s mind-set, I won’t deny she’s by far my favourite character on this site. I try my best not to steal ideas, Elric is his own character, but some concepts lingering in my subconscious might influence my writing. So if I inadvertently upset anyone, I beg for their forgiveness…
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…AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!! How could I... How COULD I even compare my half-assed scatterbrain poor excuse of a holly knight Elric with the glorious warrior goddess of random Fey-sama?!
I’m going to hang myself.
Where is that rope?! I was sure I’d put it in the fridge, next to the chainsaw and Aunt Meg – oh… Hi aunty.
Well…whatever… I’m going to make amends by improving my style so that I can proudly stand by the Greats! Just you wait unice5656, and you too NaughtyHippy!
Sooo…anyway, thanks for your support and see you next…well next time.
(Schmetterling!! I ended up being presumptuous again didn’t I? Have I no shame?)
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