“Am…am I in?” I mumbled. I could hear my voice and feel my vocal cords vibrate as I spoke. I bowed down and slowly opened my eyes as if I was going to surprise myself.
Human hands.
I wiggled my fingers. These were mine. They looked similar to my hands in real life because I lazily set my character’s appearance to follow my own except to randomize the face. I wouldn’t want anyone to fawn over my handsome fa—just kidding. My plain appearance with a permanent almost too-serious default look was the world’s way to ‘balance’ me. Otherwise, I’d be too perfect a person and rip a hole through time and space.
Gazing up, I realized it was a missed opportunity not to make a shredded as hell body with—what the…
Several seconds passed as I took in everything around.
“Divine bovine from outer space!”
I stood beside the street of a lively town with a medieval Eroba design. But it wasn’t as if I had traveled a few hundred years back in time; there were obvious signs this was a fantasy world.
Carriages and wagons drawn by feathery six-legged oxen, bellowing through pipe-like horns on the top of their heads, traveled up and down the road. A couple of the more opulent vehicles hovered a foot above the roughly hewn stones. Crystals and talismans dangled from the doors and walls of the multi-storied brick buildings that lined the sidewalk—the magical trinkets sprinkled different colored lights or scribbled runes in the air whenever the wind disturbed them.
“This…this is amazing,” I whispered, which didn’t do justice to everything around me. My brain grappled to come up with something better than what a kindergartner would say that could capture the wonders of this new world I found myself in.
The townspeople were mostly humans—this was one of the choices for a human character’s starting point—with a few half-humans thrown in the mix. Busybodies going about their preprogrammed routine for the in-game day.
I knew they were NPCs because of the info screen that popped up whenever I focused on one of them, like, [Lvl 3 Human | Amberkeld Town Resident]. I stepped out of the way as a [Lvl 8 Human | Amberkeld Town Guard] rushed by, his chainmail clinking as walked, followed by a [Lvl 7 Satyr | Flytwood Textile Merchant], who seemed to be complaining about something.
Players were quite easy to pick out from the bustling crowd of NPCs. Their over-the-top armors and unwieldy weapons—might as well stick a golden dick on the top of their heads to show off—were almost out of place in this medieval aesthetic, but the magical design elements surrounding us did even it out.
Look at me, talking about aesthetics like I should be sipping a cup of tea with a pinky up, I mused while observing a human player wearing cobbled-together cheap gear. He followed a group with formidable equipment. They could be his veteran friends helping him level up.
Very different from my situation. This was going to be a pain in the ass leveling and catching up to the strong players on my own. Just like real life.
Most of the players roaming around were also humans—that was my assumption based on their looks. Unlike the NPCs, I could only see a player’s name. Details about their race and level were question marks. Their Cidules equipped may not be simple humans.
Same with the NPCs, there were some obviously non-human players in this area.
A minotaur, half a body taller than the average human and twice as wide, chose to swim in the middle of the flow of carriages, causing heavy traffic, instead of trying to squeeze himself on the sidewalk. Very considerate, this guy.
Chimes made me turn to a shop to my left. A winged humanoid with grey skin and twitching pointy ears exited 'Madame Scor's Apothecary’. Meeting my curious gaze, she wrinkled her nose at me. Weirded out by a weakling newbie perhaps? She unfurled her wings and flew up.
A race with wings seemed interesting. I couldn’t recall if any of the base race options had them. Soaring through the sky, I wondered what that would feel like.
Speaking of the sky, the sun shining above Hierakon looked bigger than Earth’s. I could feel its warmth on my cheeks. A gentle breeze flowing through my clothes countered the heat. All my senses were working. Sight, hearing, touch…smell?
I inhaled deeply. Fresh air with no urban pollution as if I was by the countryside, maybe Swamphenshire or South-East Plover. I had almost forgotten what it was like not to smell the city. Pleasant and refreshing.
And not realistic at all.
Cue in complaints of MCO not being real enough, as if I truly wanted the smell of the setting to be accurate. Medieval towns were supposed to be disgusting filthy hellholes; no sewage system, human and animal waste scattered on the streets. Herald Stone, The Middling Expert on the Middle Ages, had to study about that to impress a girl in college, who just ended dropping out and transferring schools—hopefully, not because of my gross facts. If only I could turn back time and punch my dumbass younger self.
The hint of baking bread in the air was way better than realistic literal shit. If I could find food later, I was going to try eating it. That’d be an insane accomplishment if they programmed the sense of taste in this game.
Next, I shook my hands, my arms. My legs as well, the left then the right. Still human-like movements. The balance, the weight, it was like I was using my real body, which was asleep right now—or perhaps ‘unconscious’ was the right term. My brain was fully engaged, far from asleep, and my body wouldn’t ‘wake up’ and log me out of MCO unless I wanted it to.
While everything was familiar, I also noticed something different.
More coordination, more strength. This was what I imagined someone in tip-top condition felt like. No hint of sluggishness, a sharpness in thought and movement.
“Status screen!” I suddenly blurted out, remembering that I was supposed to play. “How do I do this? Just think? Aha, there we are.” Mentally focusing on it did the trick.
My Akashic Configuration only had a pitiful lone Human Cidule that was a level one. Unlike when I was with the Dalkanus, the other tabs of the user interface were unlocked. The second page contained my Primary Attributes.
Name: Test No. 135 | Lvl 1 Exp: 0%
Base: Human
Health: 115/115
Energy: 90/90
ATTRIBUTES:
Might....................10
Vigor.....................10
Spirit.....................10
Sense...................10
These were self-explanatory and staples in RPGs. Although these weren’t named the usual ‘Strength’, ‘Agility’, ‘Wisdom’, the terms I remembered from way back, the Attributes should operate in a similarly intuitive way. Building on the familiar was necessary to entice customers to a new product.
OFFENSE
Attack Power..............15
Physical Dmg. Inc......8%
Magic Power..............15
Magical Dmg. Inc.......8%
DEFENSE
Armor.........................10
Magic Resilience........10
HEALTH / ENERGY
Health per Sec..............2
Energy per Sec.............1
This was the next page that displayed Secondary Attributes that were familiar concepts.
Somehow, the numbers were what finally made it sink in, concrete confirmation that I was back in a game. An RPG.
Sixteen years.
The time it took from my birth to the last I played a computer game was the same long wait before I got here, back to playing once again. Fate or destiny, I didn’t believe in any of that. There was no set path and the timing here was all a coincidence. Still, it was…poetic.
“So, how do I start?” I wondered out loud.
I surveyed for any sign of a questline to follow or any NPC to talk to. There were no floating maps with markers, no indicators of where to go. Turning around, I found that I was standing in front of a quaint parish.
It had a tower with a spire attached to a building with tall walls, a high pointy roof, and stained-glass windows. The symbol on top of the spire and the roof was unfamiliar—a triangle imposed on top of two concentric circles, intersecting both of them. It must be connected with this town’s religion. The small church was not in line with the other buildings but instead recessed several meters back from the sidewalk to give space for a small circular fountain in front.
A wrinkly old man in long flowing white robes adorned with the same symbol on the church stood by the fountain. [Lvl 9 Human | Church of the Mother Core: Chaplain Eliseph Cobbles] He gestured for me to come.
This was the way then? Sure. I planned to follow the tutorial since my goal was to get a feel of the game and learn the ropes.
“How is it, young one?” said Chaplain Cobbles as I approached. Hearing him speak, I knew it wasn’t English. I recognized it as a different language and not just a thought in my head like the Dalkanus’ way of communicating. This must be the universal language the Dalkanus mentioned. He continued, “How do you feel after receiving your Cidule now that you have come of age?”
There were no dialogue options? In the past, I’d simply choose the best-sounding option, similar to primary school when the teacher asked what we should do if we saw a piece of trash on the road. Obviously, we’d have to say, ‘pick it up and throw it in the bin.’ I didn’t have any dialogue options here, but it was probably best to go with the flow to keep the tutorial going. “I’m fine…er, Father? Chaplain? Chappy? Daddy Chappy?”
“I did tell you earlier that there was nothing to fear,” Chaplain Cobbles said.
“Hmm, you’re not reacting like the Dalkanus.”
“The Dalkanus? Hush, my lad. It’s blasphemous to compare us, humans, to the Dalkanus, the perfect servants of the Mother Core.”
“Whoops. Sorry, Chappy Cobbles.” This NPC was apparently sticking to the 'role-playing' part of the game in contrast to the Dalkanus who broke the fourth wall, so to speak. I’d have to test some other time what’d happen if I chose an evil path. What would happen if I punched this priest?
“Don’t forget your lessons, young one. Don’t forget them as you start your journey now that you’ve come of age.” He made two circles in the air, one with each hand, and finished it by forming a triangle with his palms. “With a Cidule now Melded into your being, the Mother Core will always be with you. Many paths are open and you’ll be capable of great things in this world. Have you thought of which path to take?”
“No, I haven’t,” I said. “I don’t know much.” Was this the time I’d go to select a profession, job, class, or whatever term was used in MCO? I scratched my chin. “What do you sugg—”
“May I suggest—”
“Oops, you have a line. Carry on.”
“—entering into the service of the Gracious Mother Core? I know your heart is pure. The Church is in need of young men like you. Help spread the faith and heal the sick in body and soul, or defend the faith with the blade. How about it?”
Dusting off the crusty book that was my experience of playing RPGs, I deduced this guy was offering a support class, a priest like him probably; or a combat-oriented class with holy abilities, maybe a paladin. A paladin should be a good class for a tank. I had played a paladin in another RPG before I got into Nornyr Online.
As I was about to say ‘yes’, someone called behind me.
“Friend! Friend!” A sunburnt freckled ginger boy came running and waving at me. A worn leather armor partly covered his clean but plain tunic. [Lvl 3 Human | Amberkeld Town Guard: Trainee Dunstan Galewroth].
“Hey, friend that I’ve never met before,” I said. “What’s the hurry?”
“Oh, good afternoon, Father Cobbles. Sorry for butting in.” Dunstan bowed his head.
“Hah! You said ‘butt’ to a priest.”
Dunstan continued, “Captain Edmund ordered us, trainees, to drive away a bunch of Horned Grublings. A Satyr merchant had his small caravan harassed by those annoying buggers. I told Cap I have a friend who might want to apply to be Town Guard. Want to come?”
“But I was about to…” I glanced at the chaplain. Paladin? Or Town Guard? It could be a route to a knight or some other military-related profession.
“This is our chance to fight,” insisted Dunstan. “And you just have your Cidule, right? You can feed it Gli.”
“It’s alright, my lad,” Chaplain Cobbles said. “Helping the merchants is sharing the blessings of the Mother Core.”
“See? Father said it’s fine.
“Tarry not here any longer, for Captain Edmund is an impatient man. I’ll be inside the church should you want to continue our talk later. Perhaps feeding your Cidule with Gli can help you make a decision.”
“Sure, Chappy,” I said. Trying out the combat system should be interesting. Off to whacking Horned Grublings.
“Am…am I in?” I mumbled. I could hear my voice and feel my vocal cords vibrate as I spoke. I bowed down and slowly opened my eyes as if I was going to surprise myself.
Human hands.
I wiggled my fingers. These were mine. They looked similar to my hands in real life because I lazily set my character’s appearance to follow my own except to randomize the face. I wouldn’t want anyone to fawn over my handsome fa—just kidding. My plain appearance with a permanent almost too-serious default look was the world’s way to ‘balance’ me. Otherwise, I’d be too perfect a person and rip a hole through time and space.
Gazing up, I realized it was a missed opportunity not to make a shredded as hell body with—what the…
Several seconds passed as I took in everything around.
“Divine bovine from outer space!”
I stood beside the street of a lively town with a medieval Eroba design. But it wasn’t as if I had traveled a few hundred years back in time; there were obvious signs this was a fantasy world.
Carriages and wagons drawn by feathery six-legged oxen, bellowing through pipe-like horns on the top of their heads, traveled up and down the road. A couple of the more opulent vehicles hovered a foot above the roughly hewn stones. Crystals and talismans dangled from the doors and walls of the multi-storied brick buildings that lined the sidewalk—the magical trinkets sprinkled different colored lights or scribbled runes in the air whenever the wind disturbed them.
“This…this is amazing,” I whispered, which didn’t do justice to everything around me. My brain grappled to come up with something better than what a kindergartner would say that could capture the wonders of this new world I found myself in.
The townspeople were mostly humans—this was one of the choices for a human character’s starting point—with a few half-humans thrown in the mix. Busybodies going about their preprogrammed routine for the in-game day.
I knew they were NPCs because of the info screen that popped up whenever I focused on one of them, like, [Lvl 3 Human | Amberkeld Town Resident]. I stepped out of the way as a [Lvl 8 Human | Amberkeld Town Guard] rushed by, his chainmail clinking as walked, followed by a [Lvl 7 Satyr | Flytwood Textile Merchant], who seemed to be complaining about something.
Players were quite easy to pick out from the bustling crowd of NPCs. Their over-the-top armors and unwieldy weapons—might as well stick a golden dick on the top of their heads to show off—were almost out of place in this medieval aesthetic, but the magical design elements surrounding us did even it out.
Look at me, talking about aesthetics like I should be sipping a cup of tea with a pinky up, I mused while observing a human player wearing cobbled-together cheap gear. He followed a group with formidable equipment. They could be his veteran friends helping him level up.
Very different from my situation. This was going to be a pain in the ass leveling and catching up to the strong players on my own. Just like real life.
Most of the players roaming around were also humans—that was my assumption based on their looks. Unlike the NPCs, I could only see a player’s name. Details about their race and level were question marks. Their Cidules equipped may not be simple humans.
Same with the NPCs, there were some obviously non-human players in this area.
A minotaur, half a body taller than the average human and twice as wide, chose to swim in the middle of the flow of carriages, causing heavy traffic, instead of trying to squeeze himself on the sidewalk. Very considerate, this guy.
Chimes made me turn to a shop to my left. A winged humanoid with grey skin and twitching pointy ears exited 'Madame Scor's Apothecary’. Meeting my curious gaze, she wrinkled her nose at me. Weirded out by a weakling newbie perhaps? She unfurled her wings and flew up.
A race with wings seemed interesting. I couldn’t recall if any of the base race options had them. Soaring through the sky, I wondered what that would feel like.
Speaking of the sky, the sun shining above Hierakon looked bigger than Earth’s. I could feel its warmth on my cheeks. A gentle breeze flowing through my clothes countered the heat. All my senses were working. Sight, hearing, touch…smell?
I inhaled deeply. Fresh air with no urban pollution as if I was by the countryside, maybe Swamphenshire or South-East Plover. I had almost forgotten what it was like not to smell the city. Pleasant and refreshing.
And not realistic at all.
Cue in complaints of MCO not being real enough, as if I truly wanted the smell of the setting to be accurate. Medieval towns were supposed to be disgusting filthy hellholes; no sewage system, human and animal waste scattered on the streets. Herald Stone, The Middling Expert on the Middle Ages, had to study about that to impress a girl in college, who just ended dropping out and transferring schools—hopefully, not because of my gross facts. If only I could turn back time and punch my dumbass younger self.
The hint of baking bread in the air was way better than realistic literal shit. If I could find food later, I was going to try eating it. That’d be an insane accomplishment if they programmed the sense of taste in this game.
Next, I shook my hands, my arms. My legs as well, the left then the right. Still human-like movements. The balance, the weight, it was like I was using my real body, which was asleep right now—or perhaps ‘unconscious’ was the right term. My brain was fully engaged, far from asleep, and my body wouldn’t ‘wake up’ and log me out of MCO unless I wanted it to.
While everything was familiar, I also noticed something different.
More coordination, more strength. This was what I imagined someone in tip-top condition felt like. No hint of sluggishness, a sharpness in thought and movement.
“Status screen!” I suddenly blurted out, remembering that I was supposed to play. “How do I do this? Just think? Aha, there we are.” Mentally focusing on it did the trick.
My Akashic Configuration only had a pitiful lone Human Cidule that was a level one. Unlike when I was with the Dalkanus, the other tabs of the user interface were unlocked. The second page contained my Primary Attributes.
Name: Test No. 135 | Lvl 1 Exp: 0%
Base: Human
Health: 115/115
Energy: 90/90
ATTRIBUTES:
Might....................10
Vigor.....................10
Spirit.....................10
Sense...................10
These were self-explanatory and staples in RPGs. Although these weren’t named the usual ‘Strength’, ‘Agility’, ‘Wisdom’, the terms I remembered from way back, the Attributes should operate in a similarly intuitive way. Building on the familiar was necessary to entice customers to a new product.
OFFENSE
Attack Power..............15
Physical Dmg. Inc......8%
Magic Power..............15
Magical Dmg. Inc.......8%
DEFENSE
Armor.........................10
Magic Resilience........10
HEALTH / ENERGY
Health per Sec..............2
Energy per Sec.............1
This was the next page that displayed Secondary Attributes that were familiar concepts.
Somehow, the numbers were what finally made it sink in, concrete confirmation that I was back in a game. An RPG.
Sixteen years.
The time it took from my birth to the last I played a computer game was the same long wait before I got here, back to playing once again. Fate or destiny, I didn’t believe in any of that. There was no set path and the timing here was all a coincidence. Still, it was…poetic.
“So, how do I start?” I wondered out loud.
I surveyed for any sign of a questline to follow or any NPC to talk to. There were no floating maps with markers, no indicators of where to go. Turning around, I found that I was standing in front of a quaint parish.
It had a tower with a spire attached to a building with tall walls, a high pointy roof, and stained-glass windows. The symbol on top of the spire and the roof was unfamiliar—a triangle imposed on top of two concentric circles, intersecting both of them. It must be connected with this town’s religion. The small church was not in line with the other buildings but instead recessed several meters back from the sidewalk to give space for a small circular fountain in front.
A wrinkly old man in long flowing white robes adorned with the same symbol on the church stood by the fountain. [Lvl 9 Human | Church of the Mother Core: Chaplain Eliseph Cobbles] He gestured for me to come.
This was the way then? Sure. I planned to follow the tutorial since my goal was to get a feel of the game and learn the ropes.
“How is it, young one?” said Chaplain Cobbles as I approached. Hearing him speak, I knew it wasn’t English. I recognized it as a different language and not just a thought in my head like the Dalkanus’ way of communicating. This must be the universal language the Dalkanus mentioned. He continued, “How do you feel after receiving your Cidule now that you have come of age?”
There were no dialogue options? In the past, I’d simply choose the best-sounding option, similar to primary school when the teacher asked what we should do if we saw a piece of trash on the road. Obviously, we’d have to say, ‘pick it up and throw it in the bin.’ I didn’t have any dialogue options here, but it was probably best to go with the flow to keep the tutorial going. “I’m fine…er, Father? Chaplain? Chappy? Daddy Chappy?”
“I did tell you earlier that there was nothing to fear,” Chaplain Cobbles said.
“Hmm, you’re not reacting like the Dalkanus.”
“The Dalkanus? Hush, my lad. It’s blasphemous to compare us, humans, to the Dalkanus, the perfect servants of the Mother Core.”
“Whoops. Sorry, Chappy Cobbles.” This NPC was apparently sticking to the 'role-playing' part of the game in contrast to the Dalkanus who broke the fourth wall, so to speak. I’d have to test some other time what’d happen if I chose an evil path. What would happen if I punched this priest?
“Don’t forget your lessons, young one. Don’t forget them as you start your journey now that you’ve come of age.” He made two circles in the air, one with each hand, and finished it by forming a triangle with his palms. “With a Cidule now Melded into your being, the Mother Core will always be with you. Many paths are open and you’ll be capable of great things in this world. Have you thought of which path to take?”
“No, I haven’t,” I said. “I don’t know much.” Was this the time I’d go to select a profession, job, class, or whatever term was used in MCO? I scratched my chin. “What do you sugg—”
“May I suggest—”
“Oops, you have a line. Carry on.”
“—entering into the service of the Gracious Mother Core? I know your heart is pure. The Church is in need of young men like you. Help spread the faith and heal the sick in body and soul, or defend the faith with the blade. How about it?”
Dusting off the crusty book that was my experience of playing RPGs, I deduced this guy was offering a support class, a priest like him probably; or a combat-oriented class with holy abilities, maybe a paladin. A paladin should be a good class for a tank. I had played a paladin in another RPG before I got into Nornyr Online.
As I was about to say ‘yes’, someone called behind me.
“Friend! Friend!” A sunburnt freckled ginger boy came running and waving at me. A worn leather armor partly covered his clean but plain tunic. [Lvl 3 Human | Amberkeld Town Guard: Trainee Dunstan Galewroth].
“Hey, friend that I’ve never met before,” I said. “What’s the hurry?”
“Oh, good afternoon, Father Cobbles. Sorry for butting in.” Dunstan bowed his head.
“Hah! You said ‘butt’ to a priest.”
Dunstan continued, “Captain Edmund ordered us, trainees, to drive away a bunch of Horned Grublings. A Satyr merchant had his small caravan harassed by those annoying buggers. I told Cap I have a friend who might want to apply to be Town Guard. Want to come?”
“But I was about to…” I glanced at the chaplain. Paladin? Or Town Guard? It could be a route to a knight or some other military-related profession.
“This is our chance to fight,” insisted Dunstan. “And you just have your Cidule, right? You can feed it Gli.”
“It’s alright, my lad,” Chaplain Cobbles said. “Helping the merchants is sharing the blessings of the Mother Core.”
“See? Father said it’s fine.
“Tarry not here any longer, for Captain Edmund is an impatient man. I’ll be inside the church should you want to continue our talk later. Perhaps feeding your Cidule with Gli can help you make a decision.”
“Sure, Chappy,” I said. Trying out the combat system should be interesting. Off to whacking Horned Grublings.
