The Class merchant did not bother to look at me when I stood in front of his table. Like the gate keeper, he was fully clothed too, but less garishly. His clothes were shaded in muted tones of grey and brown. A hood concealed his face and gloves hid his hands. I assumed that, like all the Master’s other servants, he was an undead, but I couldn’t be sure.

With his head still bowed, the cowled figure reached into the bag hanging off his chair back and picked out three small objects. He placed them on the table and said, “On the table before you, you will find three Class stones. Pick one. But before you do that, drop the Master’s token into the chest on the right.”

I glanced at the table. Arrayed on it were three gleaming marbles of solid bronze. They had to be the Class stones. Each marble was indistinguishable from the others and provided no indication of the Class it contained.

I frowned. “How am I to choose?” I asked. “I don’t know what Class each offers.”

“Query the Adjudicator,” the merchant said disinterestedly. “Now hurry up, I have more customers waiting.”

After a moment of frosty silence, I did as the merchant bade, and willed the Game to reveal more on the three objects before me. This time, I was unsurprised when it responded.

This stone contains the path of: a warrior. The warrior is a basic Class that confers a player with three skills: a heavy weapon skill of the player’s choice, an armor skill of the player’s choice, and a shield skill of the player’s choice. This Class also permanently boosts your Strength attribute by: +1, and your Constitution attribute by: +1.

This stone contains the path of: a scout. The scout is a basic Class that confers a player with three skills: dodging sneaking, and a light weapon skill of the player’s choice. This Class also permanently boosts your Dexterity attribute by: +2.

This stone contains the path of: a caster. The caster is a basic Class that confers a player with three skills: wands, necromancy, and fire magic. This Class also permanently boosts your Mind attribute by: +1, and your Faith attribute by: +1.

“Well,” I breathed. All three Classes were strangely familiar. I had seen them before or something very similar to them. The knowledge struck a chord within me and a nugget of information from my past revealed itself.

“I was a gamer,” I murmured.

“What’s that?” Gnat asked, pinning me with his gaze.

“Nothing,” I muttered. Suddenly, I was certain that I had never been part of the Grand Game before, but from whichever world I had come from, I had spent countless hours playing in games of similar nature.

Perhaps that is why I choose to enter this world. A world itself that was a game? The very idea would have been intoxicating.

While I was uncertain how much my former gaming knowledge would aid me, I knew to a large extent it already had, helping me understand the Adjudicator’s, Gant’s and even the Master’s explanations about the Forever Kingdom.

I realized something else too. Even though I did not remember exactly where my knowledge of the Grand Game sprung from, I could—and should—trust my instincts to guide me.

I glanced back at the three Class stones. So what are you instincts telling you now, Michael?

Naturally, my first inclination was to pick the path of a caster. Undeniably, magic appealed to me. Still, I could not be hasty. I could only have three Classes, and for better or worse, my choice now would likely determine my fate in the near-future.

Closing my eyes, I quietened my mind, and let whatever knowledge that lurked deep in my subconscious to rise to the fore.

Casters are usually weak early game.

The thought dropped into my consciousness with startling quickness, and I frowned as I considered it. It rang true. I took in the room again. I was still the only candidate not obviously part of a group. If I was going to venture into the dungeon alone—which at this point seemed likely—I could not afford to do so with a Class that hampered me further. I bit my lip. As much as I wanted magic, I knew with certainty that now was the right time.

Casters also depend heavily on their spells.

And spells were something else, I would lack early on. If I understood how abilities and attributes were related in this Game, if I chose the caster Class, until I gained more levels I would only have two spells at my disposal: one faith-based and the other magic-based.

With a sigh, I quenched the urge to take up the caster Class stone and turned my attention to the other two marbles: the ones containing the path of the warrior and the scout. Neither particularly appealed to me. I glanced at the open bag hanging by the merchant’s side and caught a glimpse of more bronze marbles within it.

“Why these Classes?” I asked abruptly. “Are they the only basic Classes you have to offer?”

“What?” the merchant asked finally looking up.

The skin on the merchant’s face was pale, pockmarked, and… rippled. He was not a skeleton, but he was undeniably undead. Looking closer, I saw that the open wounds on the undead’s face was filled with wriggling maggots.

Urgh. I bit back my revulsion and fought my instinctive desire to step back. Is he a ghoul? I wondered.

“What?” the merchant repeated, scowling at my poorly concealed disgust.

Breaking off from my rapt study of the undead’s rippling face, I pointed to his bag. “Do those other stones contain different Classes?”

“They do,” the merchant replied. “What of it?”

“Then I’d like to see some other options,” I said politely.

The merchant spat, sending a glob of spit and wriggling maggots my way.

I barely dodged the disgusting projectile in time. “What was that for?” I asked with a scowl of my own.

“That was for you thinking I will entertain your foolish wishes. You will choose from the choices before you, or not at all!”

My jaw dropped open. “That’s ridiculous!” I said. “It’s not as if I am asking you to—”

“Shut up, mortal!” the merchant broke in. “The Master only contracted me to provide you fleshlings with three choices. Having to deal with your kind is disgusting enough, I will not lower myself further to bargaining with you.” With every word he uttered, the merchant’s voice rose an octave, and by now every gaze in the room was fixed on me and the irate undead.

“Now make your choice or begone!” the merchant hissed.

Shaken by the unexpected confrontation, I looked unsteadily from the merchant to my fellow companions. Many were glaring at me in anger, and I heard not a few choice curses flung my way. Turning slowly on my heels, I walked away from the stall.

“Don’t think if you come back, you will be offered a different choice!” the undead yelled after me.

Ignoring him, I kept walking, wondering as I did what I was going to do now.