~ CHAPTER 3 ~

THE MAGIC OF UNDERSTANDING AND CHOICE, PART 1

What would you do in a situation like that? Contact the GMs and wait, in the knowledge that any intervention they gave would result in the character being reset? Shrug your shoulders and carry on, accepting or thrilling in the idea that everyone who met you in game would think you were a different gender? Maybe contact the GMs but continue playing, hoping they’d be able to solve the problem without a full reset, or at least wanting to enjoy every moment of the story while you could? You might even start asking why the situation had happened in the first place - I guess it’d be a good question to ask.

I uh... wanna make one thing clear: right about then, those questions were the furthest thing from my mind. I maaay have been trying to avoid them. Just a little. Anyway, this was my story, and I was already completely a part of it. Besides, I’d been saving up for this day for almost a year, and it wasn’t like I was about to let so much as a second get wasted. By the time the quest NPC had tapped on my shoulder, I’d already forgotten about contacting the GMs. If I had thought about it... well, maybe just for a moment... it would have been a tough balance between asking for the new character it made sense for me to want, and not wanting to give up what were clearly some highly rare, highly precious rolls. It was a game, I would have told myself, and my character totally looks cool regardless!

Had I taken the leap to contact the GMs, I found out later, it would have been several hours until I heard back from them. When I did, they would have informed me that they were currently understaffed and overworked due to some unexpected hiccups in the game’s launch, and that they wouldn’t be able to address my complex issue for at least forty-eight more real world hours, during which time any progress I made would be at risk of being reset. Ultimately, when they did close the ticket, it would only be to tell me that they didn’t have the power to make that change on their end because it was a hardware issue. There were of course several variables they could have tweaked, I also discovered later, but it would have involved escalating the issue, and sooner or later, a certain someone would have been contacted whose involvement... well, anyway, that’s a story for a bit later on.

I didn’t take that leap. I didn’t learn any of this for quite a while. Right at that moment, I was deeply engrossed in chasing after the disturbingly elusive Portlan Mason, who had a habit of slipping around and under things so fluidly I had to wonder if his limbs were even solid. Wait, what if they actually weren’t!?

As I followed him, I observed the other starting players wandering around town. With a little embarrassment, seeing other women comfortably wearing the starter outfits I’d dismissed out of hand earlier, I realised I might have been a bit hasty in my judgement: I’d chosen easily the least practical choice for a hand to hand fighter. Whatever, It’s a game after all. Still, newly arrived pioneers had nothing - not even the clothes on their backs - so aside from the generosity of that snooty waygate attendant, I’d have to do some quests before I could do any more shopping.

The player town, Cowl’s Landing, was the only one of its kind in the game. As the server progressed and players cleared the surrounding jungle, the town could expand until it became a respectable sized city, but for now it was just a crisscross of three cobblestone streets with a network of cramped alleys scrunched in between and around them, packed mercilessly inside a tall partially magical wall. The main buildings that served as landmarks were the waygate hub where we’d just left, the shipyard at the shore ahead of us, and in the other direction the mage’s guild and the town hall.

That being said, the narrow streets were jumbled with buildings up to three stories high shoved sometimes literally on top of one another, giving the whole place a haphazard, slightly claustrophobic feel. Signposts jutting out from buildings at odd angles announced their intentions in letters made of magically-glowing ink, and between the cobblestones things glittered in hues that made one not want to ask too many questions. Here and there drifts of indigo or dark green smoke wafted up from vents in the street or in the sides of buildings. In a word, one could call it something like… magepunk. From watching the videos from beta, I knew it would only get wackier as time went on.

I noticed Portlan glancing back at me as we scurried along a narrow, darkened alley, and when he saw my gaze meet his, he turned and vaulted over a stone wall, disappearing on the other side. It was definitely not a move I could imitate in real life, but in game I realised I was a martial artist. I gave myself a running start, but by the time I got there I’d realised it wasn’t needed.

Dropping down on the other side, I scrambled and almost fell head first into a fetid, narrow, multi-hued canal. After a moment my hand caught a wooden beam sticking out from the floor of a building, a bit above my head on my left, and I was able to stabilize. Buildings loomed close on all sides, with the only light coming from a narrow gap at an angle above me, and from the canal itself, giving the whole scene the air of a foul but strangely peaceful grotto. I didn’t want to think about the smell.

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Off to my right, Portlan was already edging briskly along the ledge, keeping his body perfectly balanced. As I watched, he ducked under a building that stuck out over the canal, and once again vanished from sight. I followed as quickly as I could.

After we emerged from under that building, the ledge crept downward towards the water-stuff and widened just a little, digging under the canal wall, and I was able to breath a sigh of relief. Gag. Just ahead was one of the town’s many bridges, but I noticed you wouldn’t be able to see us or the tunnel-ledge-thing from up there, and dropping down would likely have been impossible. We passed under it, and shortly afterward came to a narrow staircase leading back up, winding precariously between two tall buildings.

The staircase didn’t stop at street level, though. Rather, just above what I assumed would have been street level was a small wooden door on our left, but the staircase continued going up without any kind of landing, and we continued climbing. We finally emerged out onto the rooftops about one and a half stories above street level, and started walking across a surprisingly tidy path that almost seemed like another cobblestone street, albeit one hidden from the public eye. A few buildings had more floors going further up, while others had terraces or small gardens, making it possible to mistake the scene for any ordinary village if you didn’t know what was below it.

We crossed over another bridge, this one suspended far above street level, went up and down a few more short flights of stairs, made a few daring rooftop jumps, and finally my guide stopped at an unassuming small green door. He leaned down to open it and stooped inside, then after a moment peered out and waved his hand at me impatiently. “Come along, you don’t want to keep her waiting.” After all that clambering, not to mention the crawl alongside the toxic canal and under the bridge, I was a little dismayed to see that the scene on the other side of the door was another dark and slightly sinister staircase leading sharply downward, and vanishing into murky depths.

Steeling myself, I crept in behind my guide, keeping my hands tightly pressed on the uneven walls. Behind me, the door whispered shut with nothing but a faint click, leaving me in total… almost total… well it was still dark anyway. Whatever. Mistborn have good eyesight in poor visibility.

It was a little unnerving how quickly and completely my eyes adjusted to the dark, but as soon as they did, I realised that my first impression had been a little off. The stairs were steep, winding, and a little bit treacherous, but what I’d at first interpreted as signs of disrepair were actually the signs of frequent usage over a very long period of time. I wondered if this might be the oldest building in the whole pioneer city. The dark might have seemed ominous to another race, but to my enhanced Mistborn eyes, it now seemed welcoming.

The flight downward was definitely more than two stories, but I had no reference to know how far down we actually went. As we descended, Portlan started to slow down, and I gradually noticed the warm glow of firelight flickering at the bottom. We arrived at the landing together, and saw that the glow was coming from under another door, on which Portlan now knocked. “I’ve brought her” was all he said.

There was a creak, and then an old woman’s voice replied. “Well lets take a look at her then.”

Portlan grasped the knob and gently pushed the door open, and the hallway was briefly filled with warmth and light, dazzling me for a moment. I had finally come face to face with the Keeper.

*ping*

Quest Complete!

[The Ancient Keeper of Runic Magic (Part 1)]

Follow Portlan Mason to the ancient Keeper’s sanctuary.

~ ~ 26/1/1/11:26 ~ ~

Status: [River]

Class: [Novice Mistborn Magical Martial Artist]

Location: [Cowl’s Landing - The Keeper’s Sanctuary]

Health 38/38 ~ Mana 38/40 ~ Stamina 35/41 Equipped Skills (5/8):

[Force Infused Palm]

[Myriad Fists]

[Imbued Defence]

[Unarmed Discipline (Passive)]

[Body Conditioning (Passive)] Statistics:

Defence +8

Resistance +4

Constitution +4

Willpower +4

Endurance +4 Equipped Items (2/8):

[New Arrival’s Simple Dress]

[New Arrival’s Simple Shoes] Other Skills:

[Inscribe: Rune of the Creator Flame (0/1)] Other Items:

[Special Edition Founder’s Token]

[Novice Healing Potion]

[Novice Mana Potion] Active Quests:

[Acquire Ancient Flame-Seared Ink]