Jack summoned me a couple of shorter times the next day and our dynamic remained much the same; Jack talked while I listed. It became clear over our brief time together that the man, while slow, was good at heart. Like all my previous masters, he could not understand my language and thus the only way I could communicate with him in return was nonverbally. I’ve never in all my moons met somebody who was as amused with my head nods and shakes as Jack. It would have been sad if not for his way of growing on a person; he was a hard man to dislike.
On this particular day, he had been scouting ahead looking for some lizard-men known as the Ravanan and so I was partially prepared when he summoned me for the third time. I was ready to play the role of the rat therapist, but nothing could have fully prepared me for what happened next.
“Rat Damon, master of astral travel, whose abode resides beyond sight and sound, I summon thee!”
Expecting to be summoned while Jack was on the go, I could tell there was something amiss when I arrived before the two men, who both took a knee before me. Oddly serious, aren’t we chaps?
“I have promised you that I would never order you to do anything, and I plan to keep that promise to the end, but I hope that you will hear me out. I can tell you are more intelligent than a normal rat; that much is obvious. I guess what I am trying to say is we need your help.”
I continued to listen as Jack and Gooch explained their situation, where they came from and what they needed from me, swearing to give a more detailed version of the story when there was more time. The more they talked, the more I empathized with them. Like I said earlier, they just sort of grow on you, or perhaps I was hypnotized by Jack’s glorious mane, it was probably that now that I think it. Finally, they reached the end of the story.
“So, what do you say, Mr. Rat Damon, will you join this motley crew? Will you watch idly by as they take our lives, while never taking our freedom? Will you. . .”
I held one paw with one claw up in the air before me, and he stopped. Pausing a moment for dramatic effect, (you can never have too much dramatic effect) I pointed to myself, then to jack and solemnly nodded in the affirmative. Even with his limited intelligence, it was clear he got my meaning and broke out into one of his stupid grins.
After muttering something to his larger companion that sounded like him complaining about not getting something called a point in persuasion, he finally got back on task and relayed his plan to defeat these humanoid lizards that were terrorizing two worlds. If truth be told, I wasn’t impressed, it seemed like a plan that was likely to fail that was created by a child. However, having no way to give my input due to the language barrier, I decided that it seemed like a worthy cause. I’d prefer to help and reduce my chances of one of those vicious looking creatures become my master. What was the worst that could happen? If I died, I’d be back eventually, might as well take fate into my own paws than remain passive. I had done that for far too long. And now? Now I had a purpose.
I won’t go into details of the battle that followed, as that is Jack’s tale to tell, but I will tell you this; although I died doing my part, it felt good. For the first time since becoming bound to that damn figurine, my end came on my own terms. It had purpose. It wasn’t caused by the capricious whim of some sadistic arsehole and for nothing more than their twisted amusement. Collaborating with Jack called to me almost as much as the call of my summoning, as if it were destined to be. Now I don’t know about all that metaphysical shite, but I did know I was doing the right thing.
As time moved on, I spent my time in the warren effectively, but with my continued interactions on Rigara, the world that Jack and friends found themselves on and I, summoned to, I found my time at home became the portion of my life that was unfulfilling. Daydreaming more and more about the adventuring life that now took up the minority of my days, I began to feel like I outgrew my time at my home. What was a rat to do?
This is the point in my tale were things start to become, well, weird, and many rodents will choose not to believe me. That is your choice, but I will attest to the validity of all of which I tell you of now. After the battle with the Ravanan, I rematerialized in time as I normally did. However, all was not as it seemed, especially from my point of view.
Shaking off the cobwebs of what I now call astral hangover, I didn’t notice anything out of the norm at first. But as I woke up fully, it was clear that I was seeing things like the afterimages made from looking at a bright light. Wherever I turned my head, they would follow. But unlike the visual remnants of a chance look at the sun, these did not fade with time. “Bollocks! Am I to have this fecking shite in my vision all the time now?” I was not ready for what came next.
A male voice came suddenly from everywhere. “Yes, this is a standard view of the world as seen through the system. What you see in the corner of your vision now is what is your interface.”
“Blimey, who are you and how the bloody hell did you get into my den! And what is hell is an interface?” a shocked and dismayed Rat Damon questioned nervously.
“The interface is a visual representation of your place in the system of your world or any other world that is part of the system. It consists mainly of numerical representations of your person, including skills, perks, stats and more. Each section can be accessed by mentally focusing on the data you require with the intent to display it. As you become more familiar with the interface, it can be customized to fill your specific needs.”
Spinning around, not quite believing the disembodied voice that came from nowhere in particular, it took me a while to realize that no, there wasn’t anyone else in or near my den other than me. “Am I going insane? Is this the product of being transported between planes one too many times?”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“No, Rat Damon, you are perfectly sane. Were you afflicted with a negative status effect it would show up on your status screen? You need only focus on viewing your status screen and you may confirm this for yourself.”
Not sure what to believe, and desperate to prove my sanity one way are another, I did what the eerie voice asked. To both my relief and dismay, formatted text did indeed fill my vision.
Name: Rat Damon. Status Effects: None.
Well, there’s something a rat doesn’t see every day!
“Indeed, Rat Damon, you are seeing something that no rat has seen on any day, save yourself, as you are the first of your kind to gain access to the system.”
“Egad! You read my mind, too! That’s intensely creepy, um, you! How did you get in my head?!”
“Yes, I can read your thoughts and act on them. Due to your bonding with the one called Jack Jensen; you have unlocked access to the system with your mind intact. Your stats and accumulated experience from Rigara have successfully transferred to your character sheet. You can review your character sheet by focusing on the rat icon in the bottom left of your interface. ”
“Now wait one moment, call me old fashioned, but before I take advice from a parasitic intelligence in my head, I would at least like to know its name first!”
“You may assign me any name you wish, but due to your connection with Jack my name has been set to Matt Damon, your namesake.”
“Alright, Matt Damon, which should be as good of a name as any, I suppose. I’m going to check out this character sheet you spoke, err, thought to me about.” Finishing this thought, I concentrated on the character sheet icon and was presented with the following, still not quite believing what I was going through.
Name: Rat Damon. Heritage: Rat. Class: Scout. Level: 2 (180/200). Sex: Male. Height: 6”. Weight: 0.85 lbs. Fur: Light Brown/White. Eyes: Brown. Fame: Level 1: Unknown (0/100).
Attributes
Base
Modifier
Total
Rank
Strength
6
11
Low
Agility
23
26
Above Average
Vitality
6
10
Low
Intelligence
8
19
Below Average
Wisdom
10
10
Average
Charisma
14
39
Average
Luck
25
28
High
Hit Points: 16. HP Regeneration: 2/hour, outside of combat.
Stamina: 20. Stamina Regeneration: 2/minute.
Spell Points: 10. SP Regeneration: 1/minute.
Skills
Base
Modifier
Total
Rank
Perk(s)
Claw and Fang
3
3
Untrained
Dodge
7
7
Untrained
Stealth
22
Above Average
Non-Skill Perks
Burrower
Ambush
Danger Sense
Enhanced Senses
Rational Thought
Camouflage 1 & 2
Thick Hide
Titles
Chosen
Languages
Undercommon (understands)
Common (understands)
“This will take some getting used to!” he said aloud to nobody in particular. It was a bit disconcerting to be viewing raw data that represented the entirety of one’s being. However, after repeatedly testing my ability to access this information I reluctantly came to the conclusion that yes, I was indeed sane.
In addition to confirming my mental status, the character sheet brought some unusual things to my attention. There was a title listed as Chosen, indicating that I was the first of my kind to my introduced into this so-called system. While I had never heard of such a thing’s existence from any other rat, I still found it hard to believe that I was the first rat in my world that experienced this change. But no matter how many times I looked at the title, it spelled this out clearly. Perhaps it would be smart if I didn’t mention this to anyone. There’s no telling how the warren would react to a rat that was seeing magical floating numbers and hearing strange voices. Perhaps this was the beginning of something new? Or perhaps this was a fluke of the universe? If it was the beginning of a trend, I suspect the average rat wouldn’t be ready for this, but their kids were going to love it.