My first thought on waking, was that I was happy. Not so much because I was living the life of a king (although I wasn’t complaining about that), but because I had a reason for living: a mission. It was such a different feeling, having a purpose in life, to waiting around for the COVID restrictions to end. While Greyland was starting in a very difficult situation, I believed I could turn it around.

For a start, I had to ramp up iron production and correct my earlier mistake. As my first action, I assigned the realm’s three iron ingots to the Smithy for more steel pickaxes.

Crucial to my success in this world would be my personal character progression. With some anxiety I called up my character sheet to see if I’d managed to improve it by my efforts of the previous day.

Sean de Courcy, king of Greyland

Str 7

Dex 4

Con 8

Int 16

Wis 16

Cha 4

Please choose a character archetype:

Fighter; Wizard; Healer; Scout

Of course, neither my Strength of Constitution had shifted. I sighed to myself. How many more days of exercise would it take to test whether those stats would rise? Should I give it a week and then give in and choose a Wizard or Healer path? The people who had summoned me here wanted a battlefield leader and my own desire led me to want to be a martial class of some sort. But it would be idiotic to aim for that if I was stuck with these stats.

Then I noticed the final attribute, Charisma. It had gone from 3 to 4. Yes! Yes! And again Yes!

Stats could be worked on. A glow of pleasure rushed through me. Okay, so it wasn’t a Fighter stat that had moved, but really, after one day, even if I had focused on Strength, I could hardly have expected to see progress. I had a hunch that the reason I’d seen Charisma move was that it was a lot easier to raise a 3 to a 4 than a 7 to an 8.

Following that last thought, I had to admit to myself that it might take months to move Strength to something useful in battle, but even so I decided to take the risk and commit to Fighter. It was time to get going. I missed being the most bad-ass warrior in Storm Wars and couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like to be on top of the game be like in a world where it really mattered? Still, it was pointless, counterproductive even, to daydream. There was a mountain to climb. And I hadn’t even taken one step yet towards the summit.

I selected Fighter and got a message:

Welcome Sean de Courcy, to the path of the Fighter. You have chosen to stand toe to toe with your foes, dealing blows to them and evading their own attempts to harm you. It is a path for the brave and for the resolute. If you are fortunate and progress, in due course you will unlock specialisations within the Fighter class.

You will also unlock new skills by discovering them through action. For now, you have 10 skill points to assign among the following:

Bash: action, shield users only, additional attack with shield

Block: passive, shield users only, wards melee attacks if successful

Deflect: passive, shield users only, wards missile attacks if successful

Defensive Stance: passive, reduces damage of hits received if successful

Dodge: passive, avoid an opponent’s attack

Grapple: action, unarmed attack that restricts opponent if successful

Lunge: action, pointed weapons only, additional attack at up to +1m range

Parry: passive, intercept your opponent’s attack with your main hand weapon

Quick draw: action, produce hidden or sheathed weapon

Quite a lot to think about there. And I had to make my choice right away, as the screen couldn’t be flicked away in the usual fashion. Generally, I preferred a min-max approach to RPG gaming. It was usually better to be really good at one skill and adapt your strategy to that skill than to have no particular specialism and be somewhat competent at everything. Ideally, I would have had a taste of fighting before make my choice, so as to get a feel for what would be the best skill to invest in. Here, though, there was going to be a lot of guesswork.

On the assumption I’d have the support of the high level people who had summoned me, I decided I should focus on attack rather than defence. Back in Storm Wars defence was crucial but here, at the low levels at least, I felt it best to try to rack up experience fast through killing mobs. Lunge appealed most, surely an extra attack and a bit more range on an attack was going to prove useful? When I tried to put my ten points into the skill, however, I got a message.

Skills are capped at Level x 5

Adding 5 points to Lunge worked. So for my other choice? Was I going to use a shield? Probably but not necessarily. I didn’t know what weapons were going to be available to me here. Parry then. While Quick draw had its appeal, it was very situational. Whereas pretty much every fight I was in would involve the opportunity to parry.

My character sheet now had my class and skills, also, an EXP bar, showing that I needed 100 to get to Level 2 and HP. I had hit points! Not many though. And an armour class that at 0 probably reflected the fact that I had no armour on at all. Even if I did, that poor Dexterity score probably carried a penalty.

Sean de Courcy, king of Greyland

Fighter, Level 1 HP 8 AC 0

Str 7

Dex 4

Con 8

Int 16

Wis 16

Cha 4

Lunge 5

Parry 5

Exp 5/100

With the help of the PCs in Greyland, I should be able to level up fast.

If it wasn’t for my heavy body, I’d have leapt out of bed with a spring in my step and an eager desire to get going. As it was, I had to lever myself up and then struggle with every single garment before managing to get dressed. It didn’t help that I ached all over from yesterday’s marching around the barracks square. At last, I was presentable and down I went to breakfast.

Today, the castle servants were ready for me and along with a glass of apple juice was a bowl with more apples and a plate with two poached eggs. I felt desperately hungry and was tempted, when a new servant tentatively approached, to ask for more. But I had to get down to a size where armour could fit me and a horse could carry me. So I had to diet. End of. Back home, I had sometimes tried to cut out unhealthy snacks, and managed for a while, before invariably returning to them and sometimes bingeing while hooked up to Storm Wars. Here, I felt differently. Here, getting the king’s body into shape was just as important as levelling up and sorting out Greyland’s food supply. There was no ‘Will I? Won’t I?’ discussion to be had with myself. It had to be done.

After breakfast, I left the keep and walked slowly in the direction of the barracks. The citizens of the town hurried away from me or redoubled their efforts if they were working. For the first time, I noticed that stored away in the shadowy corner of a large cobbled square was a gibbet and a chopping block. Had my predecessor really executed people by hanging and beheadings? It was not a question I could ask anyone except one of the three who had been there at the summoning.

The soldiers were already drilling when I got to the barracks and I was pleased to see archers firing at straw scarecrows. Thirteen, fourteen… yet fifteen. Those were my new recruits. It might have been a dumb move using up all my iron before the steel pickaxes were completed but I was glad to see the archers all the same.

Carradock was there, marching some foot soldiers back and forth. He passed the duty to one of the men and came over at a brisk walk on seeing me.

‘How are you today sire? Able to continue?’

‘Stiff, but yes.’

‘I suggest another march then. Sixty circuits.’

‘Right so. Before I set off, I’ve a question you might know the answer to.’

He looked at me expectantly.

‘I just learned the Lunge skill. Do you know how I utilise it?’

Surprise, then caution crossed the trainer’s face. ‘Not I sire. Skills like what you’re talking about are special. You need to talk to someone like Lord Arval.’

‘Good idea. Send someone to fetch him will you.’ As was my nature, I almost added ‘please’, but no doubt that would be taking my change in character too far.

On lap six, Lord Arval fell in step. ‘Sire?’

‘Two questions.’ I already felt the need to be economical with my breath. ‘Active skills like Lunge, how do I use them? And what’s the quickest way for me to level up? Got some giant bats I can kill?’

‘Skills? You’ll see them as selectable icons when the right conditions are met. I mean when timers are ready; or the right weapon is in hand; or you’ve moved yourself into the right position. Skills are very experiential. You get to discover them and advance them mostly by practice.’

I nodded, hands swinging like pendulum weights as I strode determinedly around the square.

Lord Arval kept pace effortlessly. ‘For levelling up, I think quests. Without access to the menus I can't be exact, but I felt that just by performing chores for the townspeople I became significantly stronger. Perhaps reaching level three or four.’ He gave me a sharp look. ‘It helps with your reputation with them too.’

‘Good. I’ll be done here by midday, come with me this afternoon and show me these quests.’

First checking no one was close enough to overhear us, Lord Arval leaned closer and dropped his voice. ‘I’d never disagree with a command of yours, but I was intending to take the new archers down to Three-Ways Fort and check on our defences. I could ask Carlena to show you the easiest town quests?’

I caught his – grey – eyes and gave the slightest of nods.

‘Very good sire,’ Lord Arval spoke loudly and deferentially. ‘As you ask, so it will be.’

The laps today were a little easier and even a soft rain didn’t deter me. Walking was good for studying the menus too and I drilled down into the kingdom’s various options, reading up on descriptions of buildings and balancing their various benefits against the immediate need to solve our food problem and be able to resist an attack if Southway and Trolland continued their alliance.

After I finally completed my sixty laps, I took a salute from Carradock and went back to the keep for a bath and change of clothes. Then I sat in the very large throne in the large hall on the second floor, the solar they called it. Outside, beyond the lead crosses that contained the window glass, the day was still grey. I could have rested there, alone, for some time, but Carlena arrived and waving away the servants who had brought her to me, came over.

‘You wanted me to help with quests?’

‘Yes please. I’ve started as a Fighter but, honestly, I’m not in the shape to hit things yet. So quests are perfect. And Lord Arval said they would level me fast.’

‘Yes, they will. At least, they got me to my third spell. After that, you’ll need to battle monsters. Also, your combat skills won’t increase unless you do.’

‘Right so, let’s go and do some quests.’ It was painful, moving again after being seated for a while. But pain meant gain, right? And I had the incentive of levelling up to encourage me.

‘It’s been a while since I did these…’ She looked thoughtful, long, silver hair tied back so I could see her severe face clearly. ‘And try to be more like King Carlos. Everyone is talking about you. About how you’ve changed.’

‘He was a thug, right?’

‘More of a sly creature, like a fox. Watching and waiting … then punishing. Never trusting anyone. You didn’t know where you were with him. Not even me, who – forgive the lack of modesty­­ ­– is the most important person in the kingdom. There was a time when I thought he was going to hang me for treason. Even though that would mean no sorcerer for our battles.’

Having reached the large, double doors Carlena went silent and waited for me to lead her out. From just behind my right shoulder, she muttered directions as we walked down narrow cobbled streets until we came to a bakery.

‘In there is a female baker who needs a large rat killed.’

I barged in, under the swinging sign of a loaf of bread. My bulky body made a small room feel even smaller: counter with several loaves; bare planks for floors; whitewashed walls; back room with an aroma of newly baked bread that made my mouth water.

A boy, about ten years old, was sweeping dust. His mouth dropped open. A thin woman behind the counter looked at me with pure horror, then said quietly, ‘Miya bless me!’

‘I believe you have a problem with a rat?’

No one moved or spoke, until the boy dropped his brush and ran. Then the woman did the same.

‘Guards!’ yelled Carlena. When two soldiers came running, she instructed them to bring the baker back.

Feeling impatient, I tried to strum my thick fingers on the wooden counter top, but couldn’t, they just thumped down in a group. My crappy Dexterity? Or simply lack of practice with this body?

At last the guards returned, holding the woman between them. She was clearly terrified and I would have said something comforting, except that Carlena wanted me to stay in character.

‘You have a task?’ I asked.

‘But…’ she was looking at the floor. ‘But… you’ve already done it.’

I shot a glance of alarm at Carlena who remained perfectly impassive. No doubt for the benefit of the guards.

‘Give it to me again.’

‘I can’t sire, I really can’t. Please don’t kill me, I have three children.’

'Just try. Just say the words. I'm sure it will work. Go ahead!'

But she couldn't. Her mouth opened and closed without a sound coming out. Tears ran down her face.

Exasperated and not wanting to cause the baker to suffer any further, I strode back outside, took a second to orientate myself, and set off back toward the keep. Levelling up was going to require a rethink.