The tutorial location dissolved around Bob.
<^Now loading into Ciro, Servo City.^>
Bob found himself in a very large room with high ceilings, surrounded by others in the default uniform. As he walked around, looking for a clue as to what to do next, he dodged in and out amongst the giants surrounding him.
So, this is what it is like to be human, huh? Such a tiny and fragile existence they lead.
Once he managed to push his way out of the crowd, he spotted the familiar metal carapace of a quest NPC, with a glowing “!” above its head and made his way toward it. Just like in the tutorial, when he interacted with them, the world around him became faded and blurry, with only the NPC being in focus.
“Welcome to Servo City, on the front lines of the Great Reclamation! Bob, as a baseline human with no class, it is strongly suggested that you visit a class trainer before venturing out of the green zones. Also, you may want to see about visiting some gear vendors to outfit yourself. Once you have obtained a class and visited a gear vendor, return to me and I will provide you with another quest!”
As the rest of the world came back into focus, Bob heard the now familiar chime of a quest update. He stepped off to the side and brought up his Quest Log to view the new mission.
Get Some Gear and Some Class
You have been tasked with obtaining your first class from a class trainer and visiting a gear vendor to outfit yourself.
Class Trained: 0/1
Gear Vendor Visited: 0/1
After confirming the quest details, Bob closed out of the Quest Log and went off in search of class trainers. If he was really going to commit to playing the role of a human in this world, he would have to find out all the available classes, so he could get the most suitable one that aligned with his desires to try a new and different way. Along one of the walls stood a row of human NPCs dressed and armed in a variety of different ways. They were easily identifiable as NPCs by their fixed expressions and their unwavering attention. That, and almost every person in here that was identifiable as a player were wearing the blue and white uniform of a brand-new player.
Bob took some time to speak with each of the NPCs, and each one gave him an overview of each class and their strengths and weaknesses. There were a wide variety of specializations, from the close combat and defense-oriented Bulwark to the Grenadier with long range area effect bombardment. However, as far as which one would make him feel most like a human, he had always admired the humans for their creativity and crafting and had gone so far as to imitate these arts for his hobbies, so he would probably have to go with either the Combat Engineer or Drone Operator.
The Combat Engineer’s specialty lay in the deployment of portable defense systems, such as portable shields and automated turrets. The Drone Operator was the opposite side of the same concept, deploying and controlling semi-autonomous mobile offensive platforms while staying out of harm’s way. Squad Leader would have also been a very human choice to make, as they were so prone to teaming up, but Bob did not believe he would be able to fulfill the role of group leader properly; he might be the master of a gigantic dungeon, but he had always fought solo and left coordination and tactics in the upper floors to the minions involved. After all, just how much strategy is needed when you are capable of eliminating small armies with naught but a single breath?
While he had difficulty wrapping his mind around the concept of drones, even after looking up details in the WIK, the idea behind the class was appealing, even more so than the biological counterpart, the Splicer class. Having several mechanical automatons carrying out his orders felt right. Ah, but wasn’t that more or less how his dungeon operated most days? His minions carrying out their standing orders to fight against intruders? Perhaps it was just a bit too close to his normal routine.
The Combat Engineer, on the other hand, relied on strategic placement of assets for each engagement. He would need to learn all about the quirks of combat in this world so that he could use these assets to the best of his abilities, and he would have to place himself in the line of fire to do so — at least more than a Drone Operator would have to. The idea of being in actual danger left him feeling a little thrilled, even though he knew it was all an elaborate fiction.
Bob returned to the trainer for Combat Engineering, and as usual the rest of the world went out of focus. “Welcome back, Bob. Have you decided to join the ranks of Combat Engineers, then?” The words were gruff, but friendly, and the NPC’s face even appeared to express a small, knowing smile. The details were really quite astounding.
“I have,” he answered. Bob heard the chime of a quest update, and a light washed over him.
“Alright, here we go. Make sure to equip your gear once you receive it.
< < < < < “Yes, equip them.” As Bob confirmed his decision to don the new equipment, a heavy pack materialized on his back, strapped securely to his shoulders and body while a smooth matte black bracer appeared over his left forearm. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. “Right, so as a Combat Engineer, make sure you know how much power and how many links you have available, as they will determine what you can deploy. Simple emplacements like a portable shield only require power, while a complex emplacement like a turret will require an available link in addition to power. Some emplacements will also require higher grade Links with better bandwidth. The benefit of having your turrets operating autonomously means that you can participate in the fight as well once you’ve got your emplacements out, so I recommend you pick up a weapon and learn how to use it. Other than that, the best advice I can give new blood like you is to always carry spares and to always recover your gear even if its trashed. Good luck out there, Bob!” At that, the animated expression faded from the NPCs face and he returned to staring straight ahead and the rest of the world came back into focus. Having received his class, Bob headed for where he guessed the gear vendor was. A large group was milling about, most of them no longer wearing the blue and white default uniform, while others still wearing it approached. As Bob approached the vendor, he took note that the NPC behind the counter was different. She didn’t look like a heavily decked out and grizzled veteran like the class trainers, nor did she have that thousand-yard stare. She was watchful and anxious, her eyes darting between the various players approaching the counter. Each time a new one approached, she would instruct them to touch the counter and say “Store.” She almost acted as if she were a real person, but she lacked the overly tall, too-perfect looks of a player. While she was still taller than Bob, she acted appropriately puny. She almost didn’t notice Bob when he approached the counter, her eyes alighting upon him briefly without acknowledgment before moving on, only to snap back after a few moments. “Oh, cats! You really shouldn’t dress up like the Screeners. It’s not professional. Wait, do you even work for the store?” It was then she seemed to notice the large pack on his back. Bob cocked his head. “Screeners?” The anxiety in her eyes spread to the rest of her face, only to clash with the confusion registering there. “Um, it’s the local term for ‘players.’ Are you one of them? You’re so…” “Normal and actually human looking? Yes, I know. It’s like they think that by making themselves less puny here it will somehow be less true. Such a sad delusion. However, I am one of these ‘Screeners’ you refer to. What’s that mean anyways?” The anxiety had been replaced on her face by shock, though the confusion remained. She answered him, her tone distracted. “Yea, sure, let’s go with that. We call them —you guys— screeners because they’re always looking at and talking about screens normal folk can’t see.” “I suppose that makes sense. So, I just touch the counter and say ‘store’ to access a vending screen, I presume? If so, why does it need to be staffed?” “That’s right. Nobody really knows, we just know its part of the rules we must follow, otherwise the Screeners will leave, and the front will collapse. As strange and troublesome as Screeners are, they’re too much of a boon for the government to allow that to happen.” As she spoke Bob opened the vending screen, then purchased and equipped a set of light body armor for 70 credits, a surplus rifle and ammunition for thirty, and spent his remaining fifty on an extra portable shield and turret, keeping in mind the class trainer’s advice. He heard the chime of a quest update as he did so. He was somewhat surprised that he was able to spend the credits so easily, normally he was rather ferocious about saving gold. “You seem different than the other Screeners. More… observant? At least you’re not leering at me like all those other brutes.” Bob stopped himself from reflexively shouting ‘Dragons don’t do that!’ Ugh, one perverted dragon among hundreds of thousands, and suddenly all the mortals think that all dragons are out to kidnap and deflower young maidens. However, he reminded himself, she didn’t know he was a dragon. He took a moment to appraise her. He supposed that she was a decent enough example of her gender for a human. Her skin was smooth and fair, her hair was long, dark and wavy. However, her chest seemed larger than practical, though he had overheard enough banter from adventurers over the year to know they found that desirable. The shop woman shivered under the sudden and intense scrutiny from the beady little eyes of the tiny man before her after the brief flare of irritation and disgust on his face. She felt like she was being appraised as if she was a piece of meat, and not in a sexual way like when the other male Screeners stared at her. Bob’s gaze returned to her face and he nodded sagely. Really, he just didn’t know how to respond, so it was time to make an awkward exit. “Well, bye!” “Uh, wait!” She hesitated a moment and called out to him. “What’s your communicator ID? I have a cousin who can pay you for some escort work in a yellow zone.” “Escort work?” Bob tilted his head in curiosity. For some reason her pale cheeks colored. “Er, I don’t mean like that… I mean, uh, he just needs a guard while he’s doing maintenance in some Yellow Zone tunnels. It should only take a couple of hours, and he’s got connections with a lot of… unofficial gear distributors.” Bob considered for a moment, then brought up his communications screen. The quest NPCs in the tutorial had advised that it tied into the NPC comm network. “My ID is Bob-9035-768.” The woman tapped at a small device in her hands, a rectangle with a lit face. “Great, I’m glad I found someone reasonable here to do this. He has to pay through the nose to go through sanctioned channels, and he’s got two kids to take care of on a technician’s salary. Thank you.” “Uh, no problem. Bye!” Bob made his way back to the first quest NPC he spoke to after leaving the tutorial. The shop woman watched him leave as she messaged her cousin. It was amazing how oblivious he was to the glares and stares of the other Screeners that towered over them as he blithely dodged through their ranks. He didn’t even seem to notice the disparaging remarks they muttered. That was probably for the best. She turned to the next one approaching in blue and white and repeated her usual line. “Touch the counter and say ‘Store.’” Upon reaching the metal skinned quest NPC, the world went out of focus. Odd, Bob thought, this didn’t happen when I talked to the shop woman. He dismissed the thought as the tinny and cheery voice spoke. “Whoa! Looks who’s got some class! And some classy gear to boot! Now that you’re prepared, it’s time to face some danger. Use your Navigation screen to find your way to the marked spot. There you will find a request board. Request boards can be found all over the city. Complete three requests to finish this quest for bonus experience and credits.” Bob opened his Navigation screen, which showed his current location, and the path to walk in order to reach his destination. Convenient. As he exited the vast warehouse that was the Player Arrival Area, he was taken aback by the sight of the city that lay before him. Afternoon sun glinted off gleaming towers that reached thousands of feet into the air. He felt an almost instinctual urge to wrap himself around those glittering spires. Bob shook and cleared his head. Sparkling obelisks aside, the city was still impressive. Metal boxes on wheels zoomed along streets made of some sort of compressed rock, carrying passengers and goods around the city. The edges of the street were crowded with buildings of various sizes, and players and NPCs alike were walking along the raised edges of the streets. Bob looked up at the sky and stopped for a few moments. How long since he had seen the sky? Since he had soared through the clouds? Kragathor had not been out since he had established himself as the master of the dungeon that would come to be known as Deep Thousand. Even long after the Age of Heroes passed, and powerful challengers became less and less common, before dwindling away completely. Breaking free of his reminiscence, Bob refocused on his current task. This game was starting to look like it might live up to his hopes.