After choosing my class and stats, I made my way from the beginners forest and into town. I didn't have any money, but with all the times I had already played running through my head, it was easy to find a job. The stereotypical tavern in town was always looking for new players to sucker, but if you knew what you were doing you could get fair wages. Stepping into the tavern was always weird; it was like someone took an American pub and tried, badly, to imitate an Irish pub. There was way too much bright green, like someone took a leprechaun and made it vomit on the walls. Sneering at the color, and trying not to tear up and the painful sight, I moved to the bar and caught the keeps attention.
"You got any jobs available? And not the janitorial job, mind, I'm not a newb." I make sure to point that out, knowing he was about to suggest it. "And in case you get any ideas, just know, I've got a bit of dirt on you, so if I were you, I'd keep this a clean arrangement."
The barkeep sneers at me and leans negligently on the counter, assured that I've got nothing on him. "Oh yeah? And what do ye have on me, pretty boy? Ye say ye ain't a newb, but ye sure smell like one."
I lean closer and grin maliciously, showing teeth and whispering. "I know you like to drink your own stock, and when you're so far gone down the barrel you like to prey on your pretty little barmaids. You beat them and force them to cover it up with cheap spells that smell like desperation. I know you've spent more than a few nights in gaol for it and you think you can get away with it every time but each time you get caught. It's a wonder you still get ladies to work for you in light of your transgressions." He cuts me off there, his face chalky white with fear.
"Alright, alright, fine, I get the point. I'll give ye a job, but if you slip up, yer out and I don't care what ye know. Ye work for me by carrying the new stock of ale from the basement to the kitchen when I'm runnin' low, and when the deliveries arrive, ya take and put everything away. Ye'll get a royal an hour and a noble extra for other duties performed, plus a free meal at lunch and dinner and a room each night. If it happens to be extra busy, ye'll get whatever extra ye deserve. Is that fair enough for ye, pretty boy?"
I grin again and nod. "Sounds good, but my name isn't 'pretty boy'. It's Malachai. You can call me Kai, though, if it's easier for your tiny brain to remember."
He growls but goes back to cleaning, muttering just loud enough for me to hear, "Ye start in the mornin'. 8:00 am."
I give him a sarcastic two-finger salute and head upstairs, ready to turn in for the night.
My preprogrammed wake-up gets me up at 7:30 am and I head downstairs, ready for the day. Something new players don't realize until much later in the game is that your stats go up with everything you do, from reading to unloading packages to dancing and even just talking. With a bright smile, I arrive in the kitchen, much to the annoyance of the barkeep who drank too much and is now hungover.
"Good morning!" I smile cheerfully and laugh inwardly. I'm paying for teasing the barkeep soon though as my unused muscles start to strain with all of the work a couple of hours later. My strength stat isn't too high just yet and the barrels and sacks are heavier that they look. Soon enough, though, it starts to rise and I gain three points of strength, two in intelligence, two in charisma as I was nice to everyone, and four in stamina.
The same schedule continues for about a week before I've saved up enough to buy extra weapons and armor; About thirty gold nobles worth of money once it's all tallied up. After I've stocked up on a bunch of health items I head out toward the beginners forest again, deciding I'd better get a few levels under my belt before heading to the next town.
As I'm heading out of town I'm confronted by a hooded and cloaked figure, their face hidden in shadows and their stance that of a thief. The thief throws their hood back to reveal a decidedly feminine face with long auburn hair tied back in a braided ponytail. She's nervous and I can tell by the shaking in her hands as she hands me a spell book, refusing to take no for an answer.
"I was told to give this to a man named Malachai. I saw you in the pub that first day and had to wait till you came back to the forest... Please, take it." She shoves it into my hands and dashes off, fading into the shadows before I have the presence of mind to ask her name.
Curious, I crack the cover of the book, expecting gibberish and strange archaic symbols written on every page, but I find English words, even if they are a little outdated. The book is written in some kind of poem and doesn't really seem like a book, more like a journal someone wrote in once, then shoved under their bed and forgot about.
All that was written was this:
"If a King ye wysh to be, then it be these words ye must read times three. By jiggle of slime, by claw by tusk, spine of bee and mollusk musk. I ordain, you must obey, give me the language of all previously slain. This be my power now till end of time, from highest kings to lowest grime. From leather flesh to scaly hyde, I bid thy power into me fly. I stand tall above them all, ruling those who fly and those who crawl."
I tilt my head in confusion as I read it the first time and rub my eyes, wondering if I read it right. If I did, then it must be some kind of glitch in the system since I'm pretty sure none of the programmers meant to give me a spell book that basically let me communicate with the monsters everyone usually kills. I read it a second and third time, like it says, but can feel no change within myself. Usually with spell books in normal games, once you learn the spell the book disappears, but with this one it crumbles into ash in my hands and a sudden wind blows the ash into my face.
Gagging and coughing on the ash, I inhale some of the particles and they seem to burn in my lungs for a moment, finally cooling down once I relearn to breathe. Once I wipe the tears from my eyes and the ash from my clothes, I start off into the forest, again, hoping no one decides to mysteriously pop up with some other spell book promising things it can't fulfill. Readying my bow, I step further and further into the murky gloom of the forest, an arrow at the ready and my new daggers strapped to my hips. After approximately ten feet, I literally trip over a brightly colored, old fashioned slime, and I wonder how I didn't see it since it just so happens to be bright blue.
It starts to jiggle in what appears to be anger and lashes out a tentacle toward my foot, apparently trying to trip me. I quickly sight and release an arrow, listening to the liquid like squelch as it thuds into the main body. Suddenly, a high pitched ringing fills the small space where the slime was hiding and a disembodied voice yells out, "You humans are all the same! Coming into our territory and killing us, then saying we can't be reasoned with. It's you who can't be reasoned with, you filthy mud-head! Don't know any language but your own!" With each sentence the slime screeches out, it also lashes with a tentacle and it's all I can do to dodge as my head starts to pound from shock. The bright blue slime pulls in on itself and shakes, slowly forcing the arrow to slide wetly out of its body, and I have a chance to stare dumbly, incredulous as three words pass my lips before I pass out.
"You can talk..."
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