“Yes, vagrant, what do you want?” the guard asked, pointedly.
Dakkon was taken aback slightly by his aggressive reception, but still sought answers the guard should be able to supply. “Where are we now?” he asked.
The guard’s eyes widened. “Ya don’t know where you are? Seriously? Hah!” The guard smirked. “How does one just wander into the capital city without knowing?”
“Be more detailed and specific,” Dakkon attempted to order of the guard.
“You’ve got some cheek on you, huh, lad?” The guardsman spat. “How about I give you a detailed account of your own arse whooping and show you to a specific jail cell where you can rot with other simpletons?”
Realizing guards did not, as it turned out, have to give him the information that he sought, Dakkon quickly changed his method of approach. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to seem so bossy. It’s just that I’m rather confused at the moment. I was… jumped by a group of hoodlums, you see, and wound up in an alley without a coin to my name.”
“Hoodlums?” The guard pried. Despite his sour tone before, he seemed to perk up at the mention of muggers.
“It all happened so fast. Three men in green cloaks,” Dakkon fabricated, “…one with a gold tooth.” The details didn’t make for particularly good lies, Dakkon knew, but he didn’t care. It was an exhilarating experience to make up an on-the-fly story in the face of an authority figure. “Except for that, and my name, I really can’t remember anything else. I’m just glad to have been left with these rags for clothes and some food. It would really, truly, help me out if you could jog my memory. Where are we? I can’t remember a thing.”
“Ah? That’s…” Despite the poor quality of Dakkon’s fib, the guard’s attitude changed from indignant to pitying. “That’s too bad. We’ve been having a rough time with cutpurses lately. All right. I’ll try and help you how I can. You now stand in Correndin, the capital city of Denmas. This here’s Griffin Square, one of the spots merchants and adventurers like to gather for trade. A fair bit of coin changes hands here, and poor blokes—not unlike yourself—get swindled every day…” The guard looked pensive. “Although an outright mugging is uncommon in this part of town.”
“Ah, Correndin,” Dakkon repeated the name of the city while trying to conjure any information he had read about the location over the last few months. “Thank you, sir. My memory is still a bit jostled. Is Denmas part of a larger state?”
“Larger state?” The guard chuckled. “No larger state. The kingdom of Denmas has no greater power to answer to.”
“I see,” Dakkon said. “Where can I get a map around here?”
“If you want a map, you can buy one off of any third street peddler. Just talk to a few and you’ll find plenty of maps. There’s a cartographer’s guild here in Correndin as well, but I wouldn’t count on you being able to afford one of their maps any time soon.” The guard gave Dakkon’s clothes a meaningful eye.
Before asking for more information, the realization that he could pull up a web browser from within the game struck Dakkon. He had access to the collective information of the internet at his virtual fingertips and should be able to look up any location information he’d need in a starting area. He was in a game, after all.
“Right. Thanks again. I’ll be on my way.”
“Watch out for Hoodlums. Then again, maybe the next set can smack the wits back into ya,” The guard chided as Dakkon walked off.
Dakkon acknowledged the guard with a sour grimace and trod along. Dakkon pondered, “Now where should I start? The basics have to be getting some food, some gear, some money, and a map. I’ve got 20 Traveler’s Tack to eat and I’ll assume I’ve started with similar portions of water. I don’t feel hungry so I suppose that’s a problem for a different day. Since I can probably get everything I need with money, that’s where I’ll start.”
Dakkon leaned back against a wall and decided to try out a new command. “Help!” Dakkon thought.
A loud, warning bell chimed:
*Bonnn*
Yellow text and the original, dispassionate, female voice from character creation said the same thing: “Warning. Your game cannot be paused. You will not receive this message again.” Then the yellow text disappeared and was replaced by a menu screen.
“What would you like help with?” The placid voice asked.
“How do I browse the internet?” Dakkon posed.
The AI controlling the female voice answered him in a voice as clear as crystal, “As long as you are not in a location which prohibits such features, you may browse the internet at any time by invoking the media console. To invoke the media console, think or say, ‘planeshift.’”
“Odd choice of command words. Fine then. Planeshift!” Dakkon said aloud, forgetting himself.
Unlike each other menu he had used until then which had created a floating screen that moved along with the center of his vision, invoking ‘planeshift’ caused a fixed point in front of Dakkon to shimmer briefly then glow white. A blue splotch appeared at the white patch’s epicenter then swirled into the white, like mixing paint. The swirl expanded violently and moved away from Dakkon, revealing a large, stationary obelisk as though veiled under a thin sheet of the blue and white light. When the light receded, the stone obelisk looked much like a computer terminal. This terminal had several default, quick access options for easy navigation to commonly used services.
The sober, and increasingly familiar, voice of the systems AI explained, “This is the media console. The media console provides players with access to the real world. Here, they can browse the internet in its fullest capacity. Users can watch movies, monitor current events, and contact others outside of Chronicle. Please be aware that due to the time difference between worlds there may be delays in communication to the game world”
“Ouch,” thought Dakkon, “I see how communicating back and forth could be problematic.”
Dakkon selected the very first option labeled ‘Browse’ and the media console transformed into a large window pane, much like an augmented reality web browser.
After 25 minutes of poking around forums and wikis in search of ways to make money in Correndin, Dakkon had found a plethora of information on how others had made some starting money, but also learned that a good portion of the time these methods weren’t repeatable. What worked for one player wouldn’t necessarily work for another. Some quests were performed once, and then they were completed. This world evolved, after all.
One promising lead mentioned the location of a bulletin board in town where NPCs posted small jobs. There weren’t any follow up comments, which Dakkon found curious, but with a job board he would have his pick of work, be able to quickly earn some money, and then he could afford to buy a sword or bow which should open new doors for him.
“Well, then. Random grunt work is my specialty,” Dakkon thought as he made his way to the aforementioned bulletin board.
C
HAPTER 3:
A
H
ARD
D
AY’S
W