Brian had been within the stocky warehouses of Mississippi, that worldwide distributor of everything anyone ever wanted, all purchasable online. And it was a bit like that. There were just so many weapons laying about, all neatly categorized with plain wooden signs in front of them, each on charcoal scored with a name and a price. Ye Olde Longsword- 15 sovereigns, Ye Olde Hew Yew Bow- 50 sovereigns, Ye Olde Dagger of Sharpness- 1000 sovereigns ... the prices were confusing because the game system didn’t actually use currency of the type on display. Brian pursed his lips and looked over at an expectant Nicole.
“So, um–” Well, he’d skipped the tutorial, so he was doubly grateful to have Nicole here.
“Yeah I know. You won’t find those in your HUD or inventory. The realism of the game often prompts items to be displayed in a local currency. Here they use sovereigns. But the system measures things in credits. It’s a lot easier, really, and it makes it hard for people to just max out on wealth. Not impossible, but it is a dredge to get there.”
Brian sighed. “Oh great, a dredge. Farming.”
She narrowed her eyes. “This is Prestige Gaming– there is nothing boring about what we do here. I just said dredge because it fit the moment and I happen to like using a lot of different words. It all just flows better this way. You want to buy something small and cheap like that longsword there, then the system checks how many credits you have. If you are low, there is a percent chance that you don’t currently have enough money on you to purchase the requested item. And then you have to leave the store because you are a homeless delinquent and no one likes loiterers!”
Her eyes sparkled and her face was getting quite animated. Apparently game credits were a huge interest of hers.
“Look, I know you don’t want to play with TITS, but let me give you just a bit of the LUBE.”
“This is going to be good.”
She winked at him again. “It’s the Legality User Browsing Encyclopedia. It’s a gamer manual full of instructions and a breakdown of the rules.” Her face went blank as she selected something on her HUD– a wall of text came crashing down into his face. He reflexively tried to swing his head out of the way and she chuckled.
“Yeah that’s what happens. Hey take a seat and look through it. It’ll be very important for an AR Lifer like you to know how the world works.”
He glanced about for a chair and spied a three legged stool that teetered and tottered. It was tagged Ye Olde Shittie Chair Made By No Goode Son-In-Law– Free. He sat and started through the text.
Credits and Stash
Credits
Credit is an abstract measure of cash and liquid assets. For each gameworld, a Credit will have a different skinned type and value. Here in Swords & Sorcerers, the denominations are metal coinage:
● Writ of Credit from a Lorde or Ladie of the Realm (or equivalent) (up to 4 credits)
● Platinum crowns (1 credit is approximately 50 crowns)
● Gold sovereigns (1 crown is approximate 100 sovereigns, or 1 credit is approx. 500 sovereigns)
● Silver marks (1 sovereign is approximately 100 marks)
● Copper pence (1 mark is approximately 100 pence)
The few bits PCs use in their daily lives are not tracked (your coins will restock for purchases of candles, rope, typical meals, etc). If a character wants to spend to achieve a small goal (bribe a doorman), use the PC’s lifestyle quality for a fortune roll.
More than 4 credits is an impractical amount to keep lying around. You must spend the excess or put it in your stash (see below). Adventurers can also store 4 credits in their lair, by default. If they upgrade to a vault, they can expand their stores to 8 and then 16 credits. Any credits beyond their limit must be spent as soon as possible (typically before the next quest) or distributed among the crew members.
One unit of credit in gold sovereigns or other bulk currency takes up one item slot for your load when carried. You may purchase additional slots by leveling up, with special abilities (see Advancement for details)
Credit Use
● Spend 1 credit to get an additional activity during downtime.
● Spend 1 credit to increase the result level of a downtime activity roll.
● Spend credit to avoid certain entanglements.
● Put credit in your character’s stash to improve their lifestyle and circumstances when they retire. See the next page.
● Spend credit when you advance your Access Level, when the time is right.
Stash & Retirement
When you mark your character’s final trauma and they retire, the amount of credits they’ve managed to stash away determines their fate. Your stash tracker is on your character sheet.
● Stash 0-10: Poor soul. You end up in the gutter, awash in vice and misery.
● Stash 11-20: Meager. A tiny hovel that you can call your own.
● Stash 21-39: Modest. A simple home or apartment, with some small comforts. You might operate a tavern or small business.
● Stash 40: Fine. A well-appointed home or apartment, claiming a few luxuries. You might operate a medium business.
In addition, each full row of stash (10 credits) indicates the quality level of the character’s lifestyle, from zero (street life) to four (luxury).
Example: Aaron is jonesing to pork some NPC broad he picked up at the pub, but if he brings her to the shared party room she’ll make eyes at the paladin and leave his ugly ass in the dust. Aaron checks in at a fancy sleeping lodge and lets his HUD roll fortune using his lifestyle rating to find out if they’ll be doing the dirty in a posh, four poster bed, or else atop the sharply pointed stalks of straw in the horsebarn.
Removing credits from your stash
If you want to pull credits out of your stash, you may do so, at a cost. Your character sells off some of their assets and investments in order to get some quick cash. For every 2 stash removed, you get 1 credit in cash.
Retcons and Updates
In the event of a game update some items will be made obsolete and will grandfather in with the player into the new system. However, should the player die, said items will die with them and be deleted from the system.
Brian clicked it away and rolled through his inventory in search of his cash on hand. There it was– 4 credits, and another ten stashed away somewhere, which filled an entire slot of Stash. He was damned if he knew where. Still that meant that he was walking around with a month’s wage. He could walk through this place and buy whatever, really, so long as it wasn’t something super powerful like Ye Olde Sworde of Instant Monster Destruction. He stood up and the stool fell to pieces.
He turned to his guide. “I want to buy you something as a thank you gift.”
She immediately reddened. “What? No! It’s your coin, I have–”
“It’s not about that. I’m sure you’re paid well, and you can do whatever you want for cash.” He gestured to the tablet. “But as a wizard I’ll need someone as powerful and prepared as possible. To say nothing of the fact that you’ve been great thus far and I’d like to repay the kindness and exuberance. Furthermore…” He held up a finger to forestall any protests she might come up with. “I know how stressful and boring jobs can be. I know it. All. Too. Well. Even though this is your job, I want to make the experience the best you’ve ever had. And regardless of any other objections, I’m going to get you something. Whether that’s the best meal of your life or a shield made out of enchanted stained glass, it’s your call.” Hell, probably both, depending on her reaction here. He crossed his mental fingers.
“If… you’re sure.”
“One hundred percent.”
She bit her lip in thought, which made him look away and take several deep, cleansing breaths. “Well… there are bracers of giant strength that are pretty dope.”
“Done,” he said.
He headed deeper into the shoppe, and upon rounding the first corner, was presented with a selection of bracers, from leather ones stamped with intricate knot designs to
cursed red metal bracers with spikes on the insides, presumably for some bizarre sex play or another. Shudder. Near the expensive side, though, were a pair of gleaming white metal bracers that went perfectly with her choice of armor color and were labeled Titan Strength Bracers, ‘Ware Ye Putte Them Onn and Wrecke thee Entyre Shoppe, and were the tidy sum of exactly 1000 sovereigns.
“There we are,” he said.
A shopkeeper (shoppekeeper?) approached, a stout dwarf with calloused hands, holding a hammer with a head the size of a basketball. He spoke with a predictable brogue. “Augh, bracers. A good call for the lady. Best ye keep ‘em off whilst yer in town.”
Brian dug into his robes, wondering for a moment if it would work, and conveniently found a writ of credit from the Ladie of House Grimm, to be paid to the bearer the sum of exactly one thousand gold sovereigns upon request. He was almost certain the writ hadn’t been there when Nicole re-skinned him, so that was fascinating: the game was actively listening to their verbal utterances and seeing his intentions. The shoppekeep took the paper gratefully, and asked if the lady would like it gifte-wrapped.
Chapter 4- The Legend of the Mighty Douche
They made their way through the shops by slow degrees, mostly to give Brian a chance to take in the true reality of the game’s graphics, and the way the Prestige people had engineered all the smells to come in through the AR helmet. He detected the scent of hay, and horse manure all around, but as soon as he lifted a leather bound tome to his nose to give it a sniff, he’d be damned if it wasn’t exactly like the real thing. The thing might be made of microscopic white blocks and coated with a veneer of graphics in his vision, but he felt the give of the leather, smelled the earthy tang, and heard it creak.
The engineers and coders had all doubtless outdone themselves; now he had to see if he could outdo them.
The smithy impressed him, but could offer nothing other than sights, sounds and smells. Some of the craftsmanship glowed with magic, while other pieces seemed to suck in the light and be almost not there. Some pulsed with might, like they were larger and more important than the surrounding items. The finely linked Mythirian chainmail appeared more like fabric, and he could only find rings of chain once he peered closely.
The row of shops ended at a small hut leaking thick smoke into the air. Someone had etched glowing runes the whole way around it, including the doorway. He didn’t notice much of what was crammed into the outdoor decor, nor the interior, seeing as how he was swimming in LUBE.
The LUBE was a slippery one to be sure: with hundreds of pages worth of game rules, examples, and variations depending on which gameworld you were currently playing. In short order (in between the multitasking jobs of entering the shoppe and making sure he didn’t knock over a cursed relic of some sort) he purged the encyclopedia of mentions from other gameworlds: maybe in a few years he’d take on a different one. He had a bit of a thing for a Mad Max style gameworld, but wasn’t sure… maybe a combo of Saddles & Six Shooters and Thrill Ride, though mashups like that weren’t currently possible. For now, they disappeared, leaving him a shorter but still lengthy read.
Some of it he’d have to save for later. One piece of Gear beckoned. He bypassed the wizened Claw of Wishes and the various Robes and Scepters. One robe appeared to be made of living octopus somehow, and reached feebly out toward him, but he batted the tentacle away and went straight for the spellbooks.
The crone bustling about with dark jars of objects floating in liquids didn’t pay him any mind until he went to touch the Arcane Folio (contains 10 + 1d10 typical spells, +your rank in Swords & Sorcerers in legendary spells). As soon as his hand came within a foot of the thing, she jerked around and let out a mad cackle.
“Think yourself a spellcaster, do ye?” she called.
“I do,” he returned.
“That be no ordinary tome,” she said. “Its master was the mighty Allereon, the Father of Modern Magic, The Great Creator, and first of the Lich lords. Prying it from his grasp cost many lives.”
“I don’t care.”
“Oh, but ye should. By many, he was called the Father, by others, the Dungeon Master, maker of worlds. Still others christened him the Douchemage, and I am proud to say the name stuck. See that the power of Allereon’s folio taints ye not, lest ye become mad with power.”
Oh, he was going to be all powerful. Still, he snorted at the old woman, until he felt a hand at his elbow. Right, Nicole, gallant protector of Vip Services, amiable of personality and beauty incarnate, focus of his short term desires. He cleared his throat. “I will endeavor to do right by this tome of spells, good shoppekeeper, and vanquish many a foe with its eldritch magics.”
The heads up display awarded him an XP for staying in character.
“Noted,” he told no one in particular, then amended. “The gods must of course favor those who play their parts. Crone, I will ensure that this tome is put to its proper use.”
She leaned close. “There is a price to be paid for this, the collected works of the Douche Mage. North of here is where I would gather herbs for my tinctures and salves and unguents.”
The way she said ‘unguents’ coupled with her breath roiling up into his nose made him want to vomit directly in her face.
“Yes?”
“That place is beset by an infestation most foul, and I would thank you to– what’s this I see? You have yet to know yourself, young wizard. You must consult the cards.”
She led him over to a table draped with thick black felt, and removed the crystal ball. Instead, she shuffled a deck of worn tarot cards, then snapped several of them down in a cross pattern, with another card in the corner created by the cross in the middle of the table. She gave him various explanations about what each meant, but they were drowned out by the appearance of his character sheet in the HUD.
Two flashing dots flew down to the Lore and Skirmish skills under Swords and Sorcerers, which caused the circle next to Swords & Sorcerers to spring to life as rank 1. Spell Points flashed to 2, which would not do. A number of flashing dots hovered alongside the sheet, and he plugged in another to Lore, which increased his Spell Points to 4. When he tapped on Spell Points, he discovered they were limited to double his Swords & Sorcerers rank times double his Lore rank. Another dot in Skirmish brought him up to 16, which was apparently as high as he could go at character generation. Luckily, it appeared that normal spells would cost one point each, and Legendary spells 2 Spell Points. Perfect.
He threw the rest of his skill points into those skills he thought would help him survive in battle: Athletics, Resolve, Resourcefulness, Will, and Prowl. With that, he was out of dots.
Infuriating. He tapped the X at the top of the sheet to return to the game.
“How does my future look, crone?” he asked.
She flipped a card into the center of the pile. It was The Sun, but upside down. “The inverted Sun means greatness, oh wizard, but at a cost. You will need allies if you are to survive. Those must be willing to sacrifice themselves for your ascension. For that, perhaps a commanding presence or the ability to sway those to your cause will aid you.”
He shifted a point out of Prowl and Resolve, and put one in each of Sway and Command. Sure an athletic wizard made zero sense, but he still wanted the ability to spring out of the way when it came to being roasted alive by dragon fire.
“Many thanks,” he said, and stood. He turned and found Nicole grinning ear to ear at him. She skipped out of the crone’s hutte. He got a little more LUBE in before they passed a cookie careening by at high speeds (chased by a tubby baker and baker’s wife), and reached the all-important, all-purpose tavern.
They ascended the stairs, which were floaty stone blocks above the gem hedral matrix, and while Brian had no problem with heights as a general rule, it was another thing to step onto something that was supposed to hold your weight, which floated.
“You want me to go first?” Nicole asked. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Did he ever.
He swept a hand out in a flourish, then watched as her armor-clad butt flounced up the stairs without a care in the world. But of course, the parts that seemed floating were just interlocked building blocks, whether they were skinned with real stuff or not. He tried to immerse himself, to let the reality go; he was living the dream, honestly.
He headed up the floating magic stairs and out onto the immense wooden platform about twenty feet above, which was mostly outdoor tables populated by lovers, adventuring parties, and groups of laborers off their shifts. The soft sounds of a lute floated out from within.
“What’s this place called?” she asked. “Would you like to do the honors?”
“More Cowbell,” he said. Her freckly grin was infectious, and he found himself slipping away from the serious vision he had for this world and back to the looser, fun version he’d never really experienced.
“Perfect.” She pulled up a tome inscribed with the ankh-cross holy symbol that hung around her neck, ran her finger over it several times, and then pressed somewhere in the middle. Huh. Even the tablet had been skinned. A huge cowbell appeared beside the door, and a flaking wooden sign of a cowbell bigger than the actual heifer it was attached to likewise appeared over the door.
The interior of the place was warm, homey, and included a generous sprinkling of sawdust on the floor, which was in places saturated with spilled beer.
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