by Ryan Rimmel
“Basically,” Shart confirmed.
“Is that why you destroyed the Godling statue?” I asked.
There was an uncomfortable pause. “Well, yes. Bringing you here wasn’t easy. If you’d spawned as a Godling, you would have died within five minutes of arriving on Ordinal. You would have lacked the required followers,” explained Shart.
“Even with Jim the Curious Puppy?” I asked, remembering my namesake.
“It doesn’t work like that. At BEST, you would have turned into a curious, foolish puppy. Basically, exactly as you are now, but in the form of a tiny dog instead of a human,” explained Shart. “It’s far more likely that you would have just died. You didn’t think you were Jim the Curious Puppy, after all.”
I glanced at the statues. They were in organized clusters. If you knew for sure what you were looking for, it wouldn’t be challenging to find. I headed for the set containing Mage, Sorcerer, and Wizard. The Wizard was the only one I could select. I placed my hand on it and felt an odd sensation, as if reality moved. A massive map appeared before me, showing a dragon sleeping in a bunch of hills.
A male dragon sleeping in a bunch of hills.
A very male dragon, having a great dream, sleeping in a bunch of hills.
“Shart, the drawing here is kind of obscene,” I stated.
“That’s not a drawing; it's a map,” replied Shart. “That’s the dragon, Zentarim.”
“That little pimple on the dragon’s… buddies is a school?” I asked. I was squinting, trying to read the locations marked on the weird-ass, erect dragon map.
“No,” answered Shart, “It's a city, larger than Narwal, that the academy resides in.”
“Where is Windfall in comparison to that?” I questioned. Shart expanded the map massively. I whistled. Now that I had a size comparison, I saw that my town must have been hundreds of leagues away. At least hundreds of leagues away from the horny dragon.
“So, if I select the Wizard class, that’s where I would respawn?” I asked.
“Yes, it's the only academy training new Wizards at this time,” stated Shart.
“You’d think more places would want to have new adventurers,” I said, stepping away from the Wizard and walking toward the next cluster of statues.
“Most of the nations have entered into some stupid treaty to limit the number of new Chosen they promote,” stated Shart. “The commoners don’t even know the tricks to becoming Chosen, like touching Dungeon Cores.”
“Zorlando knew,” I said.
“What did he know? All he does is eat eggs,” replied Shart.
“That’s not Zorlando,” I groaned. “That’s Sir Dalton.”
“Whatever. When you have the dumb one and the stupid one, what difference do names make. All your minions knew was that there was an old tale about a chance to become Chosen,” replied Shart. “That’s what they were hoping for.”
“And it killed Jarra,” I said.
The next set of statues were wildly different from each other. The martial statues all kind of stood around with weapons. The divine statues looked holy. The magical statues looked smart. This group of statues just looked weird.
The first was wearing a loincloth, just a loincloth, and looked quite pleased with himself. I checked out his face and groaned. The statues all looked like me, and I didn’t really fancy seeing myself in a loincloth.
“Barbarian,” I said to Shart and touched the statue. I saw the map flash off to the west, heading over an entire ocean. I pulled my hand back instantly. I needed to respawn closer to Windfall.
The next statue was me dressed as a very proud hippy. There were tree roots, bark, and flowers festively adorning my outfit.
“Let me guess, Druid?” I asked.
“You realize I can’t see anything, right?” replied Shart.
Sighing, I looked at the third statue. Again, it was me, but in a robe and a headband. “A Monk?” I wondered, raising my hand to it. The map shifted far north of Windfall, in what appeared to be a massive city. It was called Fillydelphia.
“Is Philadelphia the capital of HarCharles’ kingdom?” I asked. as I searched the map.
“Yes, Grebthar was quite fond of that name,” replied Shart, an odd, almost question in his response. “You do not pronounce cities well.”
“I’ll just call it Filly from now on,” I replied.
“Everyone else does,” stated the demon.
I noticed something in with my
Shart pondered that question for a moment, “Yes, there was a Monk’s school on the LOOK OUT! that trained students, but they only train elves.”
“Look out?” I asked.
“For what?” replied Shart.
“Why did you say LOOK OUT! like that?” I queried, “We had a story about a lookout on Earth, but no one said it like that.”
Shart pushed the map around and pointed right to where the other monk training spot had been, “It's here.”
“Right on the tip,” I stated, impressed.
“Highest point on Ordinal,” stated Shart.
Blocking that from my mind, I considered my options.
The only functioning Monk school was in HarCharles’ kingdom. That meant that Monk was absolutely out. Checking Druid and Barbarian, I saw both appeared to spawn incredibly far from Windfall.
Using all maps, I gathered the approximate dimensions of the continent we were on. I also gained an appreciation for how Ordinal fit together. The continent we were on was a massive donut, with an inner sea in the middle. It looked like it had a bite taken out of the right side. Windfall was on the northwestern section of the inner sea, with the kingdoms of HarCharles and TimSimons taking up large areas of the continent's north and south.
“Wait a second, I thought that was Falcon Crest,” I said gesturing uselessly towards the map. “Why does it just say Falcon?”
“Falcon Crest is the older name for the place,” stated Shart, “Grebthar named it that but they’ve changed the name dozens of times since then.”
“Aren’t they concerned that it's named after a bird?” I asked.
“There is a bird called a falcon?” replied Shart.
“Oh,” I said, my hopes for a soap opera dashed, “Wait, I called them Falcon Crest before.”
“And everyone thought you were an idiot, I mean, it's technically correct but is a really old timey way of saying it,” stated Shart.
“What do you mean, technically correct?” I asked.
“The full name of the country is currently the Falcon’s Union of Crest and Kingdom, so falcon and crest are both in there,” said Shart, “I mean everyone knows what you’re talking about. You just sound dumb.”
“And you never corrected me because I never asked,” I groaned.
“Yup,” replied Shart. I facepalmed before going back to the map.
What surprised me was that the nation of Falcon was nearly as large as either of the ruling kingdoms. Falcon covered almost two-thirds of the inner sea. Another exciting aspect was that, despite some heavily populated regions, the northern and southern kingdoms had vast empty stretches.
“I’d expect more people to be there,” I said. I flipped between classes, allowing the massive map to shift around.
“Where? Are you pointing at the map? Because, again, I CAN’T SEE WHAT YOU ARE POINTING AT!”
I was pointing at my screen on a Zoom call. “Oh, right, sorry. The empty portions of the two kingdoms,” I answered. “There are large areas that appear uninhabited.”
“Is that an Earth thing?” asked Shart, clearing his throat. “There are MONSTERS, you NIMROD.” He fiddled with the map. We could both see the map, but while I could just flip between the preset points, he could actually manipulate the map to show what he wanted to. Instantly, the chart expanded greatly, showing the whole continent at once. All the areas controlled by humans were various shades of red. All the regions controlled by different monsters were a ho
st of other colors. They occupied more than half the continent.
I whistled. “Wow, I assumed the humans would have isolated and destroyed the monsters.”
“Unlikely,” replied Shart. “There are numerous events that cause monsters to spawn everywhere, and excess monsters leave the dungeons all the time. Humans generally only bother to occupy the territory that’s most beneficial to them and leave the rest of it to the monsters.”
I had seen Earth humans keep rebuilding homes in flood plains and hurricane zones, so I wasn’t sure about Shart’s theory on beneficial territories. However, I didn’t want to get into a prolonged discussion about it.
“What’s left?” I asked, walking over to the three divine statues. They were all wearing some sort of robes. If pressed, I would describe them in terms of who wore it best. The figure on the right wore his robes like a uniform. The middle figure’s robes looked very well-used. The figure on the left wore his robe like an afterthought, as was any form of personal grooming.
“So, what are these three?” I asked, gesturing toward the statues.
“You want me to just guess at what you might be referring to?” asked the demon. “I CAN’T-”
“See,” I finished. “The statues look godly, I guess. They are wearing robes.”
“The Divine Statues, sure. A Paladin is a holy warrior who draws power from the gods to smite the infidels. Clerics are the speakers of the god who leads everyone down the righteous path. The last group, and the only fun ones, are the Zealots. They harness their unbridled faith to change the world,” replied Shart.
Which, of course, meant that I wasn’t picking Zealot. If that little dingleberry thought they were a good class, there was something wrong with them. I was guessing batshit insanity.
“Do any of them spawn close to Windfall?” I asked.
“Actually, the boring one does,” replied Shart.
“And, according to you, the boring one is the…”
“Cleric,” sighed Shart.
I reached out a hand, feeling the class information flow into me. More importantly, I observed the map of where the class would spawn. It showed a location a scant twenty leagues from Windfall. I checked the Zealot and Paladin, just to be sure, but both of those spawned hundreds of leagues away from my village. That made my choice pretty simple. If and when I Remorted again, I’d have to arrange transportation first.
Right before I made my choice, something occurred to me. “If I can get us bonded again, won’t that complicate my time as a Cleric?” I asked.
“Somewhat,” replied Shart. “There are places that are not going to like the fact that you have a Demonic Bond, including any religious building that is Cathedral rank or higher. It won’t matter much anymore.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“The
“That’s convenient. I take it that you building that console in my head would be looked down upon by the
“It would be bad for me,” stated Shart. “I’d get a stern talking to. They would absolutely give me a slap on the wrist. It would be much worse for the fool that requested the console be installed into them, though. Only a real moron would ask for that. I suggest you avoid any attention from the
“Thanks,” I stated. I had asked for the
“Radar? Wow. That’s a silly word. In any case, you thought wrong. You were kicking out so many
That would be bad, considering that what existed in this chamber amounted to my eternal soul.
I selected Cleric, feeling the class flow into me like it should have the first time I was here. I could feel my stats increasing, and I received a small allotment of starting equipment. No starting off buck naked this time. One of the nearby gateways suddenly opened, and I was looking into a nice, well-lit room. There was a large altar in front of it. Outside, I could see a forest, with wisps of snow flying about. However, in that room, it looked warm and toasty.
“Hey, so you know how you’ve been acting like you have all the time in the world here?” asked Shart.
I walked briskly toward the gate. “Is that not the case anymore?” I asked.
“So,
“Are you going to be able to find me when I get to the respawn point?” I asked.
“I’ve got it,” Shart assured me. “I can’t directly see out of your eyes, but I can track you through the
“Well, jackass, I’ll see you on the other side,” I stated, heading through the gateway into the room.
● You have selected the Cleric class! Please choose two stat buffs for yourself at first level!
● You have gained the skills: Religion, Light Armor, and Blunt Weapons.
● You already have skill with Light Armor. Please choose another skill, or one will be chosen for you.
● Your Hit Point total is increased by 10. Your Mana is increased by 10.
This spawn was looking better already. It sure beat falling from the sky as a massive fireball. I brought up my menus to see what was going on as I stepped out of the room.
When my foot hit the ground, the floor seemed to open up. I plunged straight down, repeatedly bouncing off the walls. Finally, I slammed, face-first, into the icy ground. My staff and robes were gone. I heard the trap door above me slam shut, long before I’d even fully settled into the me-shaped impression on the floor.
Growling, I stood up and marched toward a nearby door. Of course, the door was locked. Looking around, I realized I was in a prison cell.
“Feck me.”
Chapter 2 – The cold dark cell
● Jim, Cleric 1
● HP: 28/40
● Stamina: 30
● Mana: 40
● Quest: Kill Charles, Sharable Quest. You must slay Charles! He is a blight upon this world. Charles is a world boss. This is a multi-stage quest.
“This is a twenty-foot by ten-foot cell, Shart,” I growled.
“Holy crap, the room is full of feet!” exclaimed Shart. He grew quiet for a long moment. Finally, he continued, “Oh yeah, you use feet instead of logs, like an idiot. Look, I’ve brought up the plans for the room you were supposed to spawn in. There isn’t a trapdoor anywhere near there. Why aren’t you in the room?”
“I fell through a trapdoor! Check below the room,” I growled again.
“Do you think I’m stupid? I already checked that. There is a kitchen located directly below the room, and you aren’t there, either,” replied Shart. “You don’t appear to be anywhere in that sliver of Falcon.”
“Wait, I’m not where I’m supposed to have spawned?” I asked.
“Crap,” grumbled Shart, “I’m looking for you now. This might take a minute. Why don’t you assign your stats and then see about getting out of that cell you claim to be stuck inside? Try not to pine for the badger too much. He would love being in a room full of severed feet.” Shart snickered and promptly ignored me once more.
That was decent advice. At least, part of it was. I had two stat bumps to assign, so I brought up my menus.
● Jim, Cleric 1
● Endurance: +1 (Above Average)
● Willpower: +1 (Above Average)
All my other stats were at 0, or average. I had chosen those
two stats for a reason. They gave the largest increases to my Hit Points, Stamina, and Mana. My default stats were equal to a second level adventurer, and I still had stat bumps to assign. I considered my options for a moment and then assigned one point to Spirit and another to Willpower.
Spirit governed the interval it took for you to recover Hit Points, Stamina, and Mana, so it indirectly helped everything. I increased my Willpower because I was a casting class. It seemed the most useful option, due to it increasing my Mana pool. I checked my stats to see what had changed.
● Jim, Cleric 1
● HP: 29/40
● Mana: 50
● Endurance: +1 (Above Average)
● Spirit: +1 (Above Average)
● Willpower: +2 (Good)
I looked around the room. It was cold and dark here. There was just enough light coming through the metal bars to let me see all the walls in the room. The corners remained cast in shadows. What would have been helpful was some glass, but the tiny, barred window was wide open, its frame unreachable. A small pile of snow had accumulated on the cell floor below. The sound of a fluttering banner, some five logs outside the window, was a nice touch. It let you know it was also windy, to go along with the cold.
Exhaling a long cloud of breath, I turned toward the door and tried to open it. Unsurprisingly the door was locked up good and tight. I didn’t have any tools with me to open it. I instantly remembered the Crafting perk that would have allowed me to pick the lock without tools. I also remembered how easily I’d dismissed it at the time.
Well, I have other skills.
First, I tried hitting the door, hoping that I might just be strong enough to break it open. I was confident that pre-Demon Door Jim could have managed it. First level Cleric me couldn’t even hit the door hard enough to hurt my wrist.
“Howdy Pilgrim,” called out a husky voice.