CHAPTER 9 – DAY TWO

Ⱥ∞

Aaaaannd, here’s your shrine.

Thankfully we didn’t manifest at the shrine with all of our horrible wounds still gaping open or whatever. Interestingly, I can attest that getting killed almost instantly with an axe to the heart is practically painless.

“Oh my God, Ulrich. What happened? Where are we? Where are Mother and Father? What is this place?”

Family can make you crazy, am I right?

“Please, Erika. Allow me a moment to answer. Somehow, I don’t know how, we find ourselves in a game world. That is why you are an elf, and I guess that was Mother and Father on the bench?”

She nodded.

I continued, “They are gnomes. We are in some sort of Hellenistic game, and I and Corporal DeSantos have our legs back. I cannot yet answer the why of things. We are at the Shrine of Chaos, where …”

Thankfully, I was interrupted by Saint Mattis exiting the shrine. He immediately approached in all his sartorial splendor and asked with almost malicious glee, “Seine Erlaucht, will you introduce me to your sister?”

I nodded, more than a bit discomfited by his addressing me that way. I preferred the gruff old general speaking down to a junior officer to this, but, I figured we could discuss my position on the topic shortly.

“Erika, apparenlty, for some reason I don’t know, I’m someone special in the game. May I present my Called Avatar and Guide, Saint Mattis of Quantico. Saint Mattis, my sister Erika von Westlichen.”

Erika’s eyes had gotten fairly large as Mattis had approached. They positively widened during the introduction. She curtsied as he gave her a very genteel and courtly kiss upon the back of her hand.

“I am quite honored to make your acquaintance, holiness.”

Now it was my turn to be amused at what I expected to be his discomfiture at being addressed in such a way. He was not, so my cheer died as quickly as I had.

Mattis nodded a slight bow, “The pleasure and honor is mine.”

He gestured toward the building, “Fraulein, Erlaucht, will you both join me inside?”

We all trooped into the shrine. It looked the same. I sort of figured something would be different. I don’t know why I thought that, I just did.

“May I call you Ulrich?”

“Fraulein? Ulrich? When did we go all Germanic in a Greek game? Frankly, I’d prefer Lieutenant West.”

“No can do, son. You know how the rule is I can’t be called a general here? The same applies to you, now that you are recognized by the system as a high-noble. You are no longer a lieutenant in the Marines. In fact, there is a lot I hope to cover and that’s part of it. Regardless, you are now a high ranking Germanically titled nobleman and the system requires recognition of that fact. There is a little leeway with me being your Called Avatar and Guide, but I can tell you that Lieutenant Rick West no longer exists in this universe. So, Your Illustrious Highness, may I address you as Ulrich informally in casual conversation?”

Shit. The crushing burden of my familial duties were already hitting and I’d only been an Imperial Count of the defunct Holy Roman Empire for less than a minute. This is what I had fled to sports and fighting and ultimately a career in the Marine Corps to get away from for as long as I could.

I knew I could not hide from my family history forever, I had simply wanted to be just me, an humble, good looking, and incredibly athletic American dude for as long as I could before taking up the mantle. By the way, my refined sense of humility is one of the things I like most about myself. This sudden and unwelcome elevation will not help, so I’ll need to make damed sure I don’t get all arrogant or full of myself.

It isn’t that I was unwilling to assume the titles, or the practically non-existent remaining duties that were attendant upon them. I just wanted to experience the world the same way regular people are able to before locking myself in the countless chains associated with my family and our responsiblities.

Who in the hell other than the nobility and a few oddballs or academics actually give a shit what some king or emperor did hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Nobody, that’s who. It’s not like the Holy Roman Empire still exists. And yet, from the day of my birth, literally, that very day, my parents began to tell me about my history and my birthright and my noble blood and calling.

As a newborn, I couldn’t even understand what they were saying but they pounded it, over and over and over, into my mind over the years. For almost two decades I was taught my family’s understanding of the four pillars of a nobleman. Honor, duty, loyalty, and acceptance of and execution of responsibility, all of which rested on faith in Almighty God. Then I rebelled, and ran away to the Corps, hiding away from all that shit until today. The chickens have damned sure come home to roost.

So, thinking about all that whiny, woe is me complaining, I decided right then to suck it up and drive on. Fuck bitching about the situation. It is what it is. 

Grimly accepting what Fate had decreed for me, I grated out with as much graciousness as I could, “You may do so as is appropriate to circumstance, now and in the future, holiness.” Kind of dickish, but, I figured, if I'm in the shit why not spread some around.

Heaing myself call Mattis 'holiness" kind of gave me a tiny kick to the nuts. I mean, how weird is this whole thing?

I held up my hand to indicate I needed a moment. 

Wow. Talk about a transition. I mean, from my perspective, yesterday morning I was a one-legged Marine officer, then I was a Greek warrior in a game and stabbed a monster to death while her claws were wrapped around my magnificent jimmy, then I fought zombie monsters last night, then found a dead family of farmers early this morning, then just a few minutes ago met up with my sister who was now a short, fat, elf, along with seeing my parents who were now gnomes, then immediately got axe murdered in the street right after finding out my grandfather had just died, and I’m now Imperial Count Urlich von etcetera. And it isn’t even lunchtime yet.

Okay, no biggie. I’ll deal and keep on dealing. Bad motherfucker is who I am and dealing with shit is what I do.

I hardened my heart and crushed any dawning weakness. Just like addressing incipient fear, a leader cannot allow frailties and timidity to gain a foothold in his mind.

“Alright, Saint Mattis. Please continue.”

“Ulrich, I have a lot to brief you on. Over the last two weeks here I have gained an incredible amount of intel.”

Mattis paused with an expectant look on his face.

I asked, “Two weeks?”

“I’m gratified you caught the reference to the apparent time differential between the shrine, which is a node and nexus between the unseen plane where your shrine exists in a state of duality within the realms of mana and mankind, and the plane of the seen where you were just killed. The first thing you need to understand is that there are geases and restrictions on what information I may provide, and exactly how that information may be disseminated. With very few exceptions I may only answer questions you ask. As a general rule, offering or providing answers to unasked questions cannot be done. If I can legitimately assess that you have asked a question I am able to answer it. Now, all that being said, I would like to continue to answer a very, very, very important question that was asked previously about factionalization. While the temporal disparity is interesting, it has no operational effect that I am aware of currently. As we are limited on time, and aspects relative to factions are time critical, I’d like to quickly drive on to what I believe are the most significant points and then open the floor to any additional questions. You good with that?”

“Yes, sir. A moment, though, please. How long do we have to discuss these topics?”

Mattis gestured to a large hourglass that was centered upon the altar, “Twenty-two minutes as of now.”

“Thank you.”

I turned to my sister, “Erika, if you would like to sit against the wall while Saint Mattis and I discuss a few things there are some cushions over there you can use.”

Facing back toward Mattis as she walked away, I asked, “May I assume we will respawn at our previous location in the olive grove?”

Mattis nodded. “Yes, you and whomever you are with here at your shrine will respawn at that location until you change your respawn point, and then the same applies therefore and henceforth.”

I said, “Thank you. Okay, I am ready. Tell me what you can about Factions. Wait a minute. You have said the words ‘your shrine’ twice. This is your shrine, is it not?”

“No, it’s yours. That explantiona really needs to wait until we can more fully address it later as we are on the clock, or the hourglass as the case may be, and that particular issue isn’t as important as others I hope we can cover in the limited time available to us now. I’m jumping in and covering those details that are currently essential for you to know relative to Factions. Hopefully at the end of my discourse you will feel guided to ask additional questions that may or may not pertain to Factions.”

He took a couple of seconds and gave me a look that suggested he was trying to pull some underhanded shit and was checking to see if I was catching on.

Mattis had a way of stressing certain words that I immmediately grasped he wanted me to focus on. I don’t know why, but I figured it was important for me to catch all the potential nuances he might be throwing my way.

With a nod and a wave of my hand I indicated I was paying more than an ordinary amount of attention and for him to continue.

“So, Ulrich, a high Will attribute of twenty or above allows a player character to make a commitment and keep it and may thereby satisfy the requirement to voluntarily join a faction. A Will below twenty requires either an act of commitment or a demonstration of a willingness to perform such an act. Relative to DTA, I am currently unaware of the means for men to do so. For women, the only way I am currently aware of for them to DTA is through meaningful conjugal relationships. A Will below ten prevents true long-term commitment and requires significant effort to elevate. So, lacking -”

I’ll be honest here. I was shocked. Not like the fake-ass ‘Shocked! Shocked to find that gambling is going on in here!’, in the movie Casablanca. I mean truly shocked as in, apparently, I had to fuck anyone with a Will under twenty. Uncharacteristically, I interrupted a superior officer. Twice.

Stolen story; please report.

“What?”

“Yes, it means exactly what you think it means. So, lacking sufficient Will -”

“What?”

“Ulrich, we can stand here all day, which we really cannot as we only have a few minutes remaining, with me telling you the exact same thing in various ways, or we can move on. Time waits for no one. Not even you at this point.”

Shocked!

I felt like I was choking as I croaked, “Okay. Got it. Go ahead.”

“So, lacking sufficient Will ” he paused and gave me a stare, almost daring me to interrupt again, “to put in the commitment required, most unassisted attempts to improve will fail. Most likely, anyone who has a Will aptitude below ten will remain unfactioned. Unfactioned players cannot learn any skill or craft as they have yet to be activated as player characters and are simply participating attendees until they become actual ‘players.’ Final placement for an advance to the next adventure game sequence is based on a Mystic's experience points. One of the most significant means for a Mystic to gain experience is through faction building at a rate of one point per player member to join a Faction, and one hundred experience points for each Mystic player who joins the Faction of a different Mystic Player.”

Mattis appeared sympathetic to my distress. Sort of. Not enough, though, because he nodded at me once, and continued to speak. The words hit me with an almost physical impact.

“Please listen closely, now. It gets worse. The highest ranked Mystic Player in the bottom ten percent of Mystics becomes the chief god of that particular adventure game dimension, the remaining Mystic Players in the bottom ten percent become part of the pantheon, and high-ranking faction members become demi-gods. The bottom ten percent of ‘unfactioned’ players are transitioned into Non-Player Characters within that game sequence dimension before everyone else who is advancing moves into purgatory or the next adventure game.”

Yes. Fucking women to help them advance was no longer on my radar.

That concern just disappeared along with my understanding of anything remotely associated with my religious, spiritual, philosophical, and moral underpinnings.

If I had been hit a glancing blow to the head by a train going a thousand miles an hour, I could not have been more stunned.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m not sure I understand most of this. What about God? I mean God-God. Big ‘G’ God. The Real one?”

“Brand new universe, created through artificial means. Apparently, God’s not here.”

While that silently applauding Mattis’ ability to stress key words for followup questions, I was appalled by what I had heard so far. This was not at all like what I had imagined was going on.

My mind shied away from his words like a horse next to a rattlesnake.

Of course, that seems to be the case for most everyone else, most of the time, when faced with world shattering reality. As much as I preferred to follow that line of thought and consider how dismal the performance of people ususally was when making assessments of their experiences, almost every aspect being significantly affected by their biases and misconceptions … but, I digress.

I need to stay on focus.

Sometimes , which is frequently, actually, it helps to give myself sort of a pep talk. The same way I would speak to my men before a mission or any dangerous or unpleasant task.

So, in my firmest mental voice, I thought, ‘Right. Firm my resolve. Do it now, Rick.’

As I noted earlier, I’m extraordinarily resilient. Putting everything from the past aside, instantly I cleared my mind of all the doubts, all the fear, and anything that might prevent me from accomplishing the mission that was developing before my eyes.

I cleared my throat, and, with admirable clarity and aplomb, I addressed Saint Mattis.

“Thank you, sir. I am asking for expansion on three things, number one explain the game transition component with specific attention on what you believe is important for me to know about the who, what, when, where, how, and why. Number two, please flesh out my understanding of the diefication aspect, again attending to your impression of what I currently need to know regarding the who, what, when, where, how, and why on that topic. And, thirdly, I’d like to hear what you’d care to share about factionalization of mystic players. Ah, one more thing, if we have time, tell me about players being turned to NPCs.”

 Ⱥ

I was holding Erika’s hand right at twenty-four minutes after we arrived at my shrine as a force pushed us out of the shrine. My shrine, apparently. Although getting shoved out made it feel less mine and more someone else’s. Not to be a complainer, but it seems that if a building or shelter belongs to me then I should have the right to determine the length of stay.

Obviously not.

Anyway, we popped into existence, with the usual ridiculously bright flash, under the same olive tree, etcetera. According to Saint Mattis, twenty-four hours had lapsed out in this world, so I wanted to hustle to the Village of Syra which I now knew was only six miles, just about ten kilometers, from here. With both of us going at a slow jog, we should get there in about an hour and a half.

Yeah, I’m in armor, so I don’t go as fast. Plus, there are tactical considerations.

Stop, look, and listen. See something, kill something. Stuff like that.

We won’t just be running willy-nilly down the road. Especially considering I know for a fact that there are folks with sharp implements that are willing and able to do death or serious injury upon me and my sister. So, maybe two hours with plenty of daylight left after we get there to see what’s what and check in with the Archon.

I had a lot to take in after our visit and chit-chat with Saint Mattis.

Lot’s.

Out of all the stuff that I learned, and there was plenty of wild and wooly bullshit we covered, the thing that I was having trouble ignoring and moving past was Erika’s significant deficit of Will.

One thing I learned was that while in my shrine and acting as Mystic Marshal, which means I had to move my little red arrow down and select that character, and wow, talk about some seriously different shit, is that I could see stats or attribute probabilities of someone yet to be Factioned. Even more than that, but, lots to cover later, but the key takeaway is that Erika’s Will Attribute was only an eleven. Almost so low that nothing could be done.

I admit, it was bothering me alot. I’m almost positive anyone might figure out why.

Regardless, when we came trotting up to Syra, the first thing I noticed was the guy who chopped me and Erika down with an axe was simply standing still, looking a bit off into space. He was surrounded by Desantos, Bonita, and Delight who had big smiles and waved as we got closer in.

DeSantos stepped out into the road as we went to walking speed.

“Damn, El-tee. Glad to see you back. You two okay? We weren’t sure what the deal was after you two got hacked down. And, just to let you know, old Bashir, here,” he pointed at the murdering axeman, “appears to be respawned out. We spawn camped his ass and chopped him to bits every time he showed. It’s weird, you were gone a full day, and this guy kept popping back to life every five minutes or so. We must have killed him fifty times before he just went to NPC land. I guess. I mean me and Bonita figure that’s what’s going on. He hasn’t moved a muscle since the last time we killed him.”

I grinned at DeSantos, “Yeah, we’re good. Where does he respawn? I want to test something real quick.”

“Right there, sir.”

I walked over immmediately as I drew my sword. As soon as I came in to range, I swung at his neck and sliced just through his throat. I didn’t want an immediate kill, and I wanted to see if he was really NPC’d.

He was. Bashir stood there with blood pouring down his shirtfront until he fell over and died. A reliquary appeared.

Hmmm. I touched it and a tiny gemstone appeared as his body faded away. I grabbed the gem and tucked it away and turned back to Luis.

“By the way, what about when we died?”

“Oh, sorry, sir. Delight has the gems that came up when you and your sister got hacked.”

We turned and walked the few feet to where Bonita and Delight had waited patiently.

When I saw Delight standing there waiting for me, I almost broke. I mean my spirit just flooded me with unusual emotions and, having no experience dealing with things like angst, fear, loss of the basis for all of my deepest beliefs, love, affection, love, more love, and all that jazz … my eyes started tearing up. I realized how much I wanted to be with Delight and how much I wanted her to be with me.

Two different, yet similar, concepts.

Anyway, yeah, I was real glad to see her and did the whole rushing together thing. Arms hugging, mouths kissing. I felt like I’d been gone on a damned deployment instead of simply having been dead for a day, and the letter and spirit of the regulations against public displays of affection were very well violated for a couple of minutes. But who cares, it turns out in this universe, there had never been a United States, therefore, no United States Maarine Corps, therefore, no rules against kissing your woman in public. In fact, I am one of the folks who makes the rules, now. As in, potentially, all of the rules. Forever and always, anywhere and everywhere.

Whew. Enough of that.

After what seemed too brief a time, we unclenched and I looked to the others.

Bonita, ever Southern and direct, asked, "Hey, Rick. Why'd that ol' boy chop you an' Erika?"

I admit, I was very hesitant to answer, because the truth I had recently discovered was extremely unpalatable to me. So, to give myself as much time as possible before replying, I unlaced and removed the armor brace for my right forearm. I pointed to the area clearly marked with two opposing 'U'-shaped scars.

"See these? They're bite marks from Bashir here. We were in a village and had just chased one of his brothers, named Ajani, into his house. His brother had shot at one of our patrols and had dumped the AK and hauled ass. Anyway, I'd just caught up with him and butt stroked him down and was trying to put straps on his wrists when this guy jumps on me and buries his teeth in my arm."

Now, the next part was the most difficult part to share, because it made me feel as if I was somehow responsible for these and others being brought to this universe. I mean, obviously, that's horse shit, but it is how I felt at the time.

"And, ahh, because he had been in contact with me, as in having taken or touched my blood, he was brought here. As was anyone who has ever received any of my donated blood in a transfusion, or anyone who has touched my blood, or kissed me, or so much as drank after me and might have gotten any of my saliva on them. Perhaps even some folks who may have been too close to me in a pool at one time or another. Actually, every Mystic, of which there are exactly one thousand in this universe, effectively brought one million others with them that were directly or indirectly in some odd defined way."

I crossed my arms instinctively and sort of expected a verbal attack or something. Maybe not from DeSantos, but I anticipated at least Bonita or maybe even Delight would say something that I would feel accusatory. Didn't happen. At all.

"Oh, okay. We were all kinda wonderin', you know?"

So, nothing. Cool. Weird, but ... okay. Moving on.

I nodded and moved on.

“Erika, we need to get with Mother and Father, then DeSantos and I need to meet the Archon so we can get going on this quest. Do you know where they might be?”

She nodded and said, “If you will follow me, I believe I have an idea of where they are at this time.”

We had not gone more than two or three intersections when we heard the thunder of marching feet approaching from the next cobblestoned street ahead. We stopped and waited as the head of a mixed races infantry column came into view led by two dwarves in armor. Now if you never seen a massively thick and bearded dwarf wearing Grecian inspired armor, you should make the effort. The ability of dwarven smiths to craft amazingly beautiful items is incredible.

But that’s neither here nor there. Especially as within seconds of the dwarves I heard with dismay the leader call out, ‘Baaaattaaaaalion … Halt.”

I stood there in the street, surrounded by my tiny party, as the two dwarves, whom I could easily recognize, stomped directly toward me.

Yay.

Major Dwight Combs, an officer I had served under as an enlisted man, was the very definition of a martinet. He was consistently so sure of his own rectitude and ability that the idea that he was utterly, absolutely, totally, universally incapable of leadership or effective command would never enter his hard, tiny mind.

Regardless of how much his gross incompetence might repeatedly create ample proof for self-examination, he was always able to shift blame elsewhere. I have no doubt the desperate need for trained personnel during wartime contributed significantly to his continued presence in my beloved Corps.

I mean my former Corps that never existed here.

Beside him tromped another on my list of least favorite dickheads. First Sergeant Gabriel Svobota. We always just referred to him as ‘gabbota’. When he was human, he had a weird dangly flap of skin hanging down from his chin to his neckline that made him look like some sort of furious turkey. Although I couldn’t see it now with his big dwarf beard covering it, I bet he was actually happy about that, I was sure it was still there.

“Well, Lieutenant West, you cannot imagine how dismayed I am to see you here. And to think, I had a well-oiled and disciplined battalion of United States Marine infantry about to get stuck in somewhere. And here you are just like a corroded bad penny. As unwelcome as you are, obviously, I've just now decided you will be joining my staff. I already have qualified platoon commanders in place and I don’t wish to have you infect the enlisted men with poor discipline. I meant to say, I’m sure having you working directly under me with the First Sergeant assisting in your development as an officer will be most helpful.”

Fuck my life.