After that weird heart-to-heart tensions between me and Samie all but disappear. It’s odd hearing my old name, but it’s nice in a strange way, it helps me keep Nova the player separate from who I really am. From the woman I want to return home as.
It’s an unspoken alliance, a silent agreement to a common goal, a shared companionship founded in a similar set of ideals. Samie starts setting up camp in the room, slinging off her bag and peeling off her armor. Taking my chances, I sit down on the other side of the room, slipping off my shoes and arranging my cloak a bit like a blanket. Samie says nothing else that night and just pretends I’m not there in the room with her. I leave her to her thoughts and drift off to sleep, my second day in the labyrinth complete.
When I awake Samie is already up, perched on the one chair in the room, wood shavings littering the floor around her.
“Morning,” I greet softly.
She pauses her knife, hovering it just over the half-carved arrow she had just been whittling, “Morning.”
Starting to regather my stuff, my brain decides this would be the best time for awkward small talk, before I really think about it the question is already out and hovering in the air over our heads,
“How long have you been here?” real smooth Daniela, real smooth.
Samie doesn’t even look at me, just huffs a small amused snort, “Almost 4 months.”
Well, that was a better response than I thought, maybe this would work. I rack my brain trying to come up with another thing to say, “You’re an archer?”
Samie doesn’t say anything, just waves the half-finished arrow in the air.
“Right, of course,” I mutter, re-strapping my mace to my belt.
“If you have any other questions just ask.” I look up at her in surprise, but again she’s not looking at me, though I don't take much offense as she has already told me that looking at me causes her to get sick. “I made a promise, I will honor it.”
Well, I would be lying if I said that I didn’t still have questions. Mostly I want to know what Samie knows about the gods and why she’s so mad at them, but that seems like a rather loaded topic, and we are just starting to get along. Better save the really heavy questions for later.
So I ask the next thing that’s been bugging me, “What are you?”
Samie pauses in her fletching of the arrow, “I’m sorry?”
“I mean your background,” I’m quick to explain, realizing how rude that came out, “I’ve been wondering about it since we met. I was just curious.”
She looks down at her faintly blue skin with a small frown, “a lesser siren.”
“Lesser?” I echo in confusion, as the rest of my brain has a tiny meltdown at the news. ‘A siren? Like the magic monsters of myth that can charm people? The ones that eat people?’ I think, trying to keep the sudden alarm off my face.
Samie must see it anyway because she snorts, waving her hand not holding the knife in the air, like she’s chasing the thought away like a bothersome fly, “lesser sirens don’t eat people,” she explains mirth unhidden in her tone, “I’m not sure greater sirens do either, but unlike them, I can’t read desires like they do, that’s how they charm. I can just read auras and strong emotions, get the basic outline of who people are. The specific details are beyond my ability to know.”
“Wait,” I say, trying to wrap my head around the idea, “you can read emotions too?”
“On most people yeah,” she agrees, slipping the finished arrow into her quiver and pulling out another piece of wood, “its different with you. There’s all the interference from the divine, so I can’t actually see what you’re feeling.”
Weirdly that somehow makes me feel better. Just thinking about how my emotions can’t be my own private business fills me with a strange violating feeling, “I guess that makes sense?”
There’s a lapse in the conversation as Samie starts working on her next arrow and I slip my boots back on, “What about you?”
I look up from tying my laces, “Hmm?”
“What’s your background?” She clarifies, brushing a piece of her green leafy hair out of her face.
For a moment I ponder telling the truth, but I was warned so heavily against ever telling at the beginning that I hesitate, I would like to call Samie a friend, but the truth of the matter is we are in a life and death situation, she would leave me if it meant she would survive or get to go home, same for me. It was this understanding that allowed us to team up in the first place. I knew she was keeping things from me, and it's always better to be safe than sorry.
“Half-Elf,” I lie with a smile, “it was the only background that I recognized.”
“The only-,” Samie starts before looking up with a raised eyebrow, “you were in a B group?”
I freeze where I’m sitting, raising an eyebrow back at her, “What?”
“Your starting group,” she clarifies, and with a swipe of her hand her window dings to life next to her, “each group has a different number code, your menu should show it.”
Opening my window with a thought, I start scanning the information listed.
[Basic Info -
Name: Nova
Titles:
Class: Acolyte (no god assigned)
Background: Gallaxskye*
[*ALTER FORM is in effect; player appears as a [Half-Elf]. Background abilities are not affected.]
Age: 22
Boons:
- Hard Background Boon - LEARNED SPELL – ALTER FORM
Curses:
Feats:
Heroic Feats:
Starting Group: 728b]
“Uh... 728b.”
Samie nods, going back to her arrow, “That’s what I thought.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I ask hesitantly, not sure I want the answer.
“No.” Samie says with a shake of her head, “Most groups are from A, B is uncommon, but not rare, C groups are about 1 in 50 odds.”
So, there are different starting groups? And the letters meant something? “Is there just the three?”
“As far as I know, there could be a D or E group I guess,” Samie admits, starting to twine the end of the arrow with some feathers she pulls from her bag, “never meet any survivors from one though.”
“And your group?” I ask, getting up and dusting off my cloak.
“A,” Samie says, tightening the knot, “1274a”
I don’t hide my surprise as I ask, “There’s been over a 1000 groups before yours?”
She gives a solemn nod, “That’s the leading theory.”
“But you knew I was from a B group,” I say trying to shove down the idea of thousands of people being forced to play this game before me, “how did you know?”
“Each group is different. All A groups will function in a similar way and have similar options, but an A and B starting group have some differences.” She explains, checking the fletching on the arrow she’s making, “A groups or all-round groups, are most common. And will have about 5 to 10 rare or uncommon classes and background options. Most of the options will have duplicate choices, so many people will end up with the same combination of class and background.”
She ties one more knot and then gestures at me with the finished arrow, “Next is your group, B. Otherwise known as a background start. The classes offered will be about as general as an A group, but for the background selection there will be 100 different choices, all unique, so each player in a B starting group will have a different background from everyone else.” She pauses and looks back at me, “do you follow?”
“Yeah, it seems simple enough,” I nod, everything she said matched up with what I saw. There were very few unique classes in my starting group, our choices were decided by which weapon we selected, while our backgrounds were chosen from a list of 100 options.
“B groups are fairly uncommon, roughly a 1 to 15 ratio from A groups.” Samie goes on to explain, stashing her arrow in her quiver, “Lastly there are C groups, similar to B groups they offer a list of 100 different classes, with each player getting a unique class to them. Obviously, we call these, Class groups. They are the rarest, one will show up around every 30 to 40 All-round groups.”
“C sounds the best,” I note absent-mindedly.
“That’s the general opinion yes,” Samie agrees pushing herself to her feet, “But once you know there’s only 6 starting classes it becomes a bit less interesting, most C group players end up starting the game with advanced classes. Some people thrive, while others, have such a steep learning curve they can’t make it. C groups have the largest mortality rate.” She snaps her bracers back on, keeping her back to me, “But your starting group doesn’t guarantee anything.”
“What do you mean?”
She gestures at me from over her shoulder, strapping her other bracer on, “You were in a B group, yet you got a common background and the rarest class. I’m similar, lesser siren is a fairly rare background, I got rather lucky compared to most of my fellow players. Your starting group doesn’t automatically give you a leg up.”
A faint twinge of guilt runs up my spine, but I push it aside, “That is true, it’s all luck in the end.”
Samie hums in agreement slinging her bag over her shoulder and stretching out her shoulders. She glances over at me briefly, something unreadable in her eyes that I can’t quite figure out as she glances away towards the door. “It’s getting rather late.”
It's just a mindless statement, but I know what Samie really means, she’s going back into the maze. “I still have more questions,” I comment back, watching how she shifts her stance, something untensing in her shoulders.
“You are welcome to follow me, but I’m not covering you,” it’s the same thing she said yesterday, but the venom has faded.
I smile despite myself, Samie is obviously someone who’s not good at speaking what they really mean, it's almost enduring in a way. Briefly, the thought of Hero crosses my mind, with his darkened cheeks and puffed-up ears. The grief is still there, almost a physical weight in my thoughts, but it feels a little easier to carry today.
“I can defend myself,” I assure Samie as I follow her out of the room. “Where are we going anyway?”
Samie glances over her shoulder at me briefly, before turning back to the front, “The second floor, I want to finish this castle.”
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