Chapter Four - Inventories & Skills. Magic Is For Cowards. Who Wants Magic Anyway. *Sniff*

Shit, something is wrong. I jerk awake from the extremely uncomfortable camp bed to a full and upright position. Nervously glancing around, no, there is no-one in my room, no creak of the floorboards at the door to indicate a creeping and peeping suspect. No anomalous odours, no high pitching whining, that you can get from either a bomb/missile closing in on your position or if a little bitch is complaining that each time he respawns, I am there delivering to him another headshot. Booyah.

Just staying still, and waiting, I still can’t make out what is wrong. Hmm, I didn’t notice that before, a window, with white gauze curtains. Maybe is should have wondered where all the light was coming from, but let’s be honest here for a moment, I was pretty fucked when I materialised here. I had died from my aneurysm exploding in my head, had a small talk with godlike beings, got insulted, called them Fugly bitches in return, woke up in a morgue, got deaded again, and here we are. I think that I am entitled to a little fainting spell under those circumstances.

Gently treading over to the window, my steps in perfect balance with my body, I slowly part the curtains, and look out of the window.

WHAT THE HELL!

Why the hell am I in the middle ages, with horse and carts and god knows how much shit sitting in the street? Time Travel! Fuck! Or maybe reality hopping. Double Fuck! At least with time travel, it is just a matter of forwards and backwards, with fucking alternate realities, then you have the side to side and the up and down of travelling.

GOTCHA!

I bet you really fell for that. Gullible ponce. No, really, there are cars, and roads, and tall buildings, with the occasional flash of light indicating a Hero/Villain fight going down somewhere. I don’t know why most of the Hero’s seem to go for the flashy moves, but for me, that seems totally rude. Maybe someone in the crowd is epileptic and starts to have a seizure, and dies. Even the supposedly good guys are killing the innocent, whilst presenting themselves as the fine and morally upstanding citizens, here to guard our safety from the clutches of evil. Well, tell that to Dave who just dies from an induced seizure. Hypocritical bastards, one and all. At least the Villains are typically honest about doing bad shit.

Sorry, sorry, sorry. I tend to get carried away with my rants against the Heroes and just Supers in general, although now that I am one of them, no nosy Nancy is going to be able to bitch at me that I can’t possibly understand the stresses that Super’s go through. That they are all lost souls of the Lord and just need some kindness and understanding to bring them back into the fold.

I know right, bloody sanctimonious, pinched-faced, twots. Sorry, I did it again. I will honestly try and make an effort to stop the ranting. But no promises.

Anyway, like is was saying, it finally made sense of what I was feeling was off with my environment. The place that I live (Read, Secret Fortress of No Your Business) would start the morning or even afternoon, and from the light, it was definitely earlyish, with annoying birds chirping, and singing, and making a Kale-damned racket. And that is weird, I don’t live in a city, with tall buildings. I live just outside of a village, on the outskirts. And the wildlife is abundant. There shouldn’t be any building other than houses, and trees, and cars.

Wait, I know this place. But where? It takes a few seconds, and I start to immediately break out in a light sweat. My beautiful green eyes widen almost comically, and I can feel my heart beating erratically. No, it’s not the future dystopian world where people are turned in cheap labour to fuel the mounting debt to our overlords, who look suspiciously like my neighbourhood dog. It’s New York, in America. The fucking UN has dropped my 3000 miles away from my home.

I’ve haven’t got a passport, green card, money or any legitimate identity documents. Fuck.

A little information here; in the last fifteen years or so, America in all its wisdom decided to elected this utter prick call Trimp. He called himself an entrepreneur, a leader, and an inspiring example of the rise of the little man of the people to the heights that he currently soared at and enjoyed. And America bought into that load of equine excrement, otherwise known as Horse-Shit. And to add insult to injury, decided his running mate should be no other than the infamous, Gluteus Chutney. Maybe parents should no longer be allowed to name their children. I swear, the previous generations must have been on a pot overdose since birth. Fido would have a field day psychoanalysing the psyche of these lunatics who name their children Gluteus.

Anyway, long story short, Trimp decided that everyone would have to carry Identity Documents that proves their loyalty to America, their patriotism. Please read that anybody who supports the Democratic Party is at best a traitor, and at worst, a total Pillock.

Fortunately, there were some cooler heads prevailing when Trimp tried to pass the bill, and an amendment as tacked on stating that the Identity Documents were purely voluntary, although most people now assume that if you don’t, you are naturally suspect, and only specially recognised agents of the law could ask for the identity documents. The document would display your name, age, place of residence, tracking implant ID tag designation and finally, if you checked the tick box on the application that ‘Yes, I have conspired to overthrow the government of America’.

Funnily enough, there was a small movement of nearly five hundred people who protested this stupid and obviously ridiculous question, decided for the Lolz, to say yes. Unfortunately for them, the news later reported that these traitors to America were later arrested, found guilty of betraying their country of birth, and executed the next day.

GOTCHA! Again. No, they didn’t get arrested, but they later revealed that they received a letter from the President himself, detailing that they were banned from overseas flights and add to the terror watch list. I sincerely hope that saying Yes was worth all the hassle.

And most people being the sheep that we are, decided to apply for the cards, after all, it would save them from trouble with the Special Agents that might come calling, and they didn’t want to be added to the watch list. A few holdouts here and there, California and Alaska mostly.

Sinking back onto my camper bed, I take a few minutes to process this doozie. I. Am. In. America. What about my Mom and my sister Charlotte. They are going to be so worried. And my job. And my stash of porn that the police are sure to find when my Mum files a missing person report. Crap. First thing, find a phone and call home.

Calm down, that’s it, calm your racing heart, close your eyes and think happy thoughts. My breathing normalises, my heart starts beating in its usual boring manner, and I stop sweating. One thing at a time, calm and steady.

Opening my eyes, I glance at the clock on the wall. What? That clock is not on the wall, it’s just in the upper right of my vision. Shit, how did I not notice that before?

Carefully inspecting my line of sight, I also notice a very faint graph in the upper-left, minuscule, and nearly invisible. Concentrating on the graph, it quickly snaps into focus. It is three bars, red, blue and green. Those must be the Health, Mana and Stamina bars that nearly every RPG has. I’m starting to get a headache concentrating so hard. And as I lose that zone of focus, the graph gently fades back into invisibility.

Congratulations! You have found your stat bars. Their settings are now unlocked. Access to information will now be but a thought away.

Suddenly, a small stream of information enters into my consciousness. I know the values that the bars represent, how my attributes play their role in their numbers.

This is so cool; the learning without the terribly boring book reading. Finally. And just thinking about the options for the bars, a window pops up:

Please Select Default Transparency Of The Bars: 1-100 (1 being completely invisible and 100 being completely opaque.) – Default setting currently set at: 3

Please Select Default Information Presentation: Bars, Numbers, Bars & Numbers

Well, no need to mess with those at the moment, I am quite happy with the luminosity of the graph, and if I want to know that numbers involved for a more detailed look, I should be able to just concentrate on those numbers:

Health: 20/20 Regen 0.2 per minute

Mana: 20/20 Regen 0.2 per hour

Stamina: 20/20 Regen 0.2 per second

Wow, being Human make mana like, totally suck. To fully get back all of the mystic energy will take me over four days. WHAT THE HELL! Just when I think that I will get to be this badass Wizard, suddenly reality decides to slap me down. Just last night, or morning, I was thinking how cool it would be to fling fireballs, throw mana bolts and generally live every gamer’s dream. Maybe, hopefully, the mana costs for the spells won’t be that high. Then again, the info screen did say that I would have an increased cost for the spells. Crap!!!

Taking another few minutes to wallow in my self-pity and shattered dreams, I decide that no matter what, I will find a way to gain access to the high-level Sorcerery that must exist.

Well, onwards and upwards, as they say, time to battle the other menus that I have been given access to. Taking a deep breath, clearing my mind in the ancient ways of the Zen Masters I once read in a comic book, I utter the magical passphrase:

“Mental Inventory Pocket Dimension, Beta”.

Nope, nothing happened, no menus, no wormholes or tears in reality. Why didn’t it work? Is there a bug in the system or something? No, think this through JJ, there has to be a reason. First, the phrases mentions a Pocket Dimension, so it is unlikely to be menu detailing everything I have in my pockets. And wormholes are just plain ridiculous. Maybe it is the tear in reality. Thinking about it, I reason that for the dimension to open, I have to pierce the veil.

Trying again, whilst pushing my thoughts towards this Dimension, I speak clearly and aloud this time, just in case:

“Mental Inventory Pocket Dimension, Beta!”

Again, no dice. Shit.

Maybe it is not a mental piercing that I need, but a physical representation of my intention to grasp whatever lies beyond. One final time before I move onto skills, and launch a help ticket to the admins, I place my right arm at my side, elevate my forearm up 90 degrees, extend my index finger, and while uttering the phrases in my head, I gently stab my finger forward, imagining it passing through to a dark space beyond.

Congratulations, first time detected User accessing personal inventory. 500 exp gained!

Inventory can store 100 items in stacks of 99, measuring no larger than 1 foot in diameter, each item weighing no more than 1 kilogramme.

All items stored in inventory will decay at the ratio of: 1 Second / (100 + (Int+Wis / 10) + (End / 25). All fractions will be rounded down to the lowest possible whole.

Inventory space can be upgraded at milestone levels. Hidden Upgrades are possible if certain conditions are met.

To access items stored in inventory, please see associated menu.

Holy Shit!. That is insane. Just imagine what I could store. Maybe if I break into a high-level Government building to steal the plans for my very own Death Star, then if I need to, I could kill the guards, chop them up into individual pieces, and store them in my inventory till my escape, without the icky necessity of storing them in a backpack, then dealing with the rotting remains where I leave, or take the risk of dragging their heavy bodies into a storage closet, chancing a random encounter from a janitor, or a couple deciding to have a quickie.

Maybe if they are small enough in width, I could store them as is, rather than get delicious blood on my face and arms, and clothes. Bloody hard to get blood out of cotton, trust me, I know from first-hand experience. I do do my own laundry after all, and nosebleeds are not very nice after all.

I could, possible, sneak past the guards, to show the world my awesome skills, but every gamer knows that it always fun to occasionally take the opportunity to shank your enemies in the back, and watch them fall. So fun. Sigh.

Or, maybe, if I decided to rob a really nice mansion of all its valuables, I would store them all in my inventory, and look, burglary drops down to breaking and entering, a misdemeanour at most. A slap on the wrist, rather than 20 years in the pig pen. I tell you, you get more time for stealing petty shit like a chocolate bar than you do for mass genocide. After all, as the great Philosopher Dexter Morgan once wrote, ‘If you kill one person, you are a murderer, kill thousands are you are a conqueror. Kill them all, and you’re a God’. And God’s don’t typically get prison sentences. And Godhood does have a pretty ring to it after all.

Putting aside my glorious fantasies of cutting a swathe through all the mortals (Both Super and norm alike (After all, no other Super has yet had the ability to resurrect, although a few could technically have immortal life spans) would fall before my majestic might), I take notice of the message that I can upgrade the Inventory on a Level Milestone. I wonder what goodies I could unlock. But it didn’t say what the milestones actually were, they could be at Level 100 and beyond, and that could take quite a while to achieve, and if I do die, do I lose the upgrade on reset? A mystery yet to be revealed. Interesting.

Then I focus on that menu that was hovering before me. If you have ever played something call ‘Vampire: Masquerade Redemption’, the menu looks like the UN stole it outright. A ten by ten grid of slots, with a mannequin off to the right, show the items I have equipped at the moment. Taking a small glance, it appears like I am not wearing anything special. Just starter clothes.

And thank god for that. Down in the lower right of the Mannequin side of the menu, I can see my money, and it is showing $10,000.00. Looks like I am not totally screwed after all, although on the left with the slot menu, it is showing as empty. Swings and roundabouts baby.

Time to move on anyhow.

“Mental Skill List, Charlie”.

Just before I utter the last word, I take that instant to ponder on why the phrases are such that they are. Maybe it is so that an errant thought doesn’t interrupt a battle; Like I am fighting this badass Villain for control of the city, and I start to wonder if I can beat him, and I think of my stats in one of the moments between each move, and wham, the menu pops up, I get distracted, and Bimbo kills my ass, taking my head as a trophy. Maybe. Or it could be one of those things to make life that little bit harder, the last straw that breaks my Camel’s back, floods the river, cracks my mind, whatever. Or I could try to describe my abilities to a psychologist, and he locks me up for my insane utterings, completely ignoring the tear in reality that only I can see. You Decide.

Congratulations, first time accessing the skills list. 500 exp gained.

Balance – 2000/1000, congratulations, Balance has now been upgraded to the Novice tier

Balance – 0/1000 Novice Tier.

Sneak – 2000/1000, congratulations, Sneak has now been upgraded to the Novice tier.

Sneak – 0/1000 Novice Tier.

Congratulations, Level Up conditions met. Level 2 has been achieved. +1 To All Stats.

Congratulations, for Practising a Beginner Tier skill beyond what is required, additional information on skills has been unlocked. Level Up Conditional information has been Unlocked.

To Level up to Level 2, either Kill 1 Sentient, Steal $100 worth of loot, Unlock a total of 5 skills or Level Up 1 Skill to Novice Tier.

To Level up to Level 3, either Kill 1 Sentient, Steal $100 worth of loot, Unlock a total of 5 skills or Level Up 5 Skills to Novice Tier.

Balance – The act of keep inner equilibrium with the outer world. Will be able to stay perfectly upright and level when at a steady walk. 0/1000 Novice Tier.

Sneak – You are able to place your feet upon the floor to minimise noise made whilst slowly walking upright. All sounds made: -15%. 0/1000 Novice Tier.

All skills are rated on the Tier system of:

Beginner, Novice, Amateur, Trained, Professional, Master, Grandmaster, Total Dominion.

Each tier will unlock a new bonus and upgrade a previous bonus. At Total Dominion Tier of skills, User will be able to pick a bonus not available otherwise. This bonus will give in addition +10 Levels to User.

List of possible skills user is able to Unlock:

Unarmed Combat Blade Mastery LOCKED Shield Mastery LOCKED Dagger Mastery LOCKED LOCKED Bow Mastery LOCKED Blunt Mastery LOCKED Staff Mastery LOCKED Alchemy LOCKED Enchantment LOCKED Climbing Theft LOCKED Lock Picking LOCKED LOCKED Merchant Trap Detection Balance Sixth Sense Battle Aura LOCKED Sneak LOCKED Leadership Heavy Armour LOCKED Medium Armour Light Armour LOCKED LOCKED LOCKED Unarmoured LOCKED Tailoring Blacksmithing LOCKED Jewellery LOCKED LOCKED Disguise Altered Perceptions Forgery Spy-craft Stalking Trap-craft Assassination LOCKED Electronic-Interfacing LOCKED LOCKED LOCKED

Other skills will be unlocked as additional hidden conditions are met.

Nice! Looks like I’m going to busy for the next little while. And it so cool that this system is rewarding me with killing ‘Sentients’. I wonder what the system classifies as sentient. Would it include animals, or birds, or summoned creatures, or aliens, maybe even Batman? Woo, I got chills from that. I am so going to kill Batman and take over his identity. First I will learn assassination, then disguise, then leadership with Electronic-Interfacing. Look out Robin, your new daddy is on his way.

This is so exciting, my heart is beating, like, so fast, and, I am like so, flushed and horny right about now. I need a big strong man to take me right here and hard, god I am so wet.

But really, if this list is just the tip of the iceberg of the things I can learn as a newb, then later when I have started to get the hang of this deal, what other stuff will I be able to do.

Now just a moment. it doesn’t say anything about guns. Whaaa! I’m in America for the Beegee’s sake. No, it doesn’t matter. Though the thought of wielding a Gatling gun whilst holding up a bank sounds hilarious, it never really featured in any of my fantasies when I dreamed of becoming a Super, or time travelling back to become a Knight. Focus on the positives and stay chilled. Everyone needs limits. Still, maybe later I could give it a try, and see if Gunship is unlocked as a hidden skill. But where am I going to get a sword for crying out loud? No, worry about that later, I have one final menu to explore.

“Mental Mana Menu, Delta”

Menu is locked until requirements have been met:

Level 10 – INT and WIS at 25 and One skill requiring Mana Manipulation at Amateur Tier.

Swings and fucking roundabouts indeed.