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Eternyte

Part 4: Level Up

copyright comidacomida 2020

Will had been a pre-teen when he first started playing Ethernyte and, as such, many of his character decisions were made at a 'less than mature' level of intellectual and emotional development. Certainly decisions he'd made became constant reminders of just how far he'd come-- not just in the game, but also in life. Will Etherborn had been created as a character out of a lack of creativity but also out of a desire to be something other than invisible, unnoticed, and forgettable.

Others played Eternyte to be someone else or to live adventures they could never have in real life. In Will's case, he had started Eternyte to make something out of himself so, looking back over ten years of gameplay, it was hardly surprising that his character was really just another version of who he was... one that could allow him to be himself without fear of rejection or being left behind. Of course, much of his character was frozen in time; those traits stood as testament to who he had been and who he had become.

His first NPC follower had been Minotaurus, and the name still occasionally made him cringe. The not-quite-eleven-year-old Will had no idea how to name a follower and so, when he used the Enchanter ability to make a minotaur NPC into his first Thrall. His grandmother had been visiting and she'd forced him to sit and watch an ancient Hollywood movie called 'Sparticus', and so he just added a 'us' to the capitalized the NPC's race of minotaur; Minotaurus' birth was hardly worthy of note.

In addition to being his first NPC ally, Minotaurus had also become a major topic for discussion for his therapist at the time. Over several sessions, the good doctor began to explain that Minotaurus was Will's embodiment of a friend who would always be there for him and would never leave. He was everything Will's character was not: strong, hardy, and able to tackle problems head-on. His therapist also suggested that Will's character was very much like Will himself, and implied that learning to be a little more like Minotaurus could be helpful. Over a decade later, that thought continued to stick with him, but he still thought that the therapist was a quack.

Many things had changed in the years between when he'd recruited Minotaurus and the release of the beta test. The Ork standing at the dais gazing at him with a combination of supplication and pride was a very good personification of that change. If what his therapist had said held any credence then every NPC Will recruited had a certain significance to him. Were that the case, then he really would have had a field day with Durmel Spirit-Speaker... not that Will needed the kooky kid-therapist to identify all of the many similarities between the Ork and Will's real life father.

Durmel Spirit-Speaker, Voice of the Etherborn had joined his retinue shortly after the most recent expansion, and during a time when his father was trying to "find himself". Will's dad had been going to school to get a nursing degree when his parents had called it quits and, shortly thereafter, his dad also quit school, electing to go into an administrative position in a medium-sized company. If he forced himself to think like his therapist had when critiquing his NPC choices all those years ago he would have said that selecting an Ork healer was giving Durmel the strength of conviction that his dad lacked.

Orks did not often have magic users among their race and, if they did, they were not healers. Most Orks were hardy warriors and measured by their capacity in combat. If Will had really shaped Durmel to be what his dad could have done had he not let his peers and friends talk him out of a "woman's job" it would have made sense that the Ork had remained stalwart in his conviction to be a healer, and, thus, Durmel the Priest was a perfect analogue for who his father could have been. It was still disconcertingly eerie to hear his father's voice spoken by the green skinned, tusked healer.

Will stood upon the central dais of The Eternal Hall, his own private player Holding. All around him was the opulence of a custom zone that had been painstakingly crafted over the better part of a decade, and yet the young man's eyes forsook all of the sights in favor of the older Ork standing before him with a patronal smile on his tusked face. When Will said nothing, Durmel repeated his greeting, and elaborated. "Welcome home, Lord Etherborn... I see you've returned victorious from your questing in Vartyn."

He didn't really know how to respond. "I... uh... yeah."

The Ork bowed his head, straightening up to his impressive height; Orks were commonly above six and a half foot tall and, despite not being a warrior, Durmel was still easily that. A slightly condescending expression creased his green lips, but his orange-amber eyes gleamed with humor "Though, I would have worried less over your delay had I know you'd planned to visit Cragglecrawl before returning."

Having spent so much time around the Kobolds, it felt almost strange to Will that he didn't hear a chorus of "CRAGGLECRAWL!"s follow the Ork's statement. Instead, the silence was interrupted only by the hollow echoes of Durmen's last words. Eventually it was up to the young man to continue the conversation. "Things got a little complicated."

The big green healer laughed, stepping up and throwing an arm around Will before leading him off the dais. "I recall few things in this world being uncomplicated, lad. So tell me then... why Cragglecrawl?"

The question caught Will off guard. "Why what?"

The Ork offered another tusky smile before pausing, pulling away from Will with a suddenly soured expression. It took the human a moment to realize why and only then did he realize that the priest's hand was covered in blood. Durmel apologized immediately. "Sorry for that, Will... I suppose I neglected my wounds."

The casual explanation worried Will almost as much as seeing the blood itself. "You're hurt? What happened?!?"

Although Durmel had done a fine job of presenting himself well, the sudden realization that he was bleeding caused the human to rethink his opinion; the Ork had a slight limp and he was breathing far more laboriously than would have been right for such a short stroll. His assessment of his Follower suddenly led to a sudden spark of inspiration and, without knowing fully how, he could tell that Durmel was actually down to about 20% of his maximum health pool, meaning that he really WAS hurt!

One the Ork had the support of the pillar he leaned against it, leaving a smear of blood there too as he cleared his throat, looking down at his bloody hand. "You don't remember? Before you left, you reminded the guard here to expect a strike from Nether Demons. Just as you had said, they attacked."

Will cursed himself, cursed the Nether Demons and, most of all, cursed the ninth expansion that made occasional attacks against player Holdings a thing. In most circumstances Will would have returned to the Eternal Halls, called forth all of his NPCs, and then seen to their wounds with a combination of his own minimal healing skills and through directing them to heal one another. Pulling his attention away from his own musings, he looked to Durmel appraisingly. He was just about to ask why the Orc didn't heal himself when he received an uncanny boost of knowledge: the priest's mana was near exhausted. "How bad WAS the attack, exactly?"

Even as Durmel provided an overview of the fight Will began to provide healing. He had no idea how his spells functioned but his body and mind seemed to move of their own volition, responding to the simple intent he had to cure his Follower. As an Adept, Will had the capacity to select from a variety of healing abilities common to other Support classes. Bards had "Healing Hymn", which provided a slow regeneration of health points to nearby allies but he had chosen to avoid music-based skills since that wasn't part of his character concept. Commanders had a skill called "Battle Field Healing" which was relatively low cost but it was incredibly weak so, while Will did have access to that one, he didn't bother.

The Enchanter had a few different kind of healing abilities and it was from that pool Will had drawn for his character. The first healing spell available to Enchanters was "Mending", which was quick to cast and, despite the low amount of healing it provided, was easy to cast in rapid succession, known among gamers as 'healing spam' or 'spamming heals'. Considering his mana pool was full, it was an easy task for Will to target Durmel with spell after spell, targeting each of his wounds like a checklist being completed. Despite being a Priest, the Ork had a decent health pool which, while requiring a lot of heals to restore, had probably been responsible for him actually living through the altercation that had injured him so badly.

Just as Will was finishing the last of the healing required to restore Durmel to full health he felt a sudden surge of heat flow through his body. At first, the young man was worried that he'd overexerted himself or perhaps he'd somehow hit an effect that made the world in which he found himself different than the world of Mytholm in the Eternyte game. The sensation lasted only a second or two but, as the warming wave washed across his vision he saw golden light, which completely blinded him for a split second. He didn't know how, but, suddenly, Will knew a spell to which he hadn't previously had access. "Lesser Heal?"

Durmel perked at the question. He looked over himself. "I could cast it, yes... but my wounds aren't in need of further healing."

Lesser Heal was the first heal spell available to Priests; Adepts couldn't learn it. "No... I mean... I can cast it now."

The Ork looked at him appraisingly, one of his thick, heavy-set eyebrows raising in surprise. "Well well well, Will... when did you become a Priest?"

The question struck Will as odd; he WASN'T a Priest; he was an Adept. "What do you mean? I'm not a--"

He froze as his diary appeared in his hand. Without more than wondering what was going on, the book opened to the first page, presenting the ownership information, including his race as a Human Eternal ('Eternal' being the in-game name for a Player Character):

Will Etherborn

Human Eternal

Adept lvl 125

Priest lvl 1

He paused, wondering how he could be both an Adept and a Priest. Will was dumbfounded.

* * * * *

Will saw stars when he impacted the floor for what was probably the dozenth time. Sometimes he wondered why the game developers even bothered letting Adepts use swords. Extending his arm and reaching with his hand, his fingers brushed against the hilt and he grabbed tight, letting out a groan as he forced himself up to his knees. Taking stock of himself, he realized he was down to half of his health pool. "Ugh... why do I even bother?"

Behind him, Minotaurus chuckled, and the ground shuddering steps of his hooves on the tile drew nearer. "Because you do not quit, My Lord Etherborn. It is not in your nature."

Will was having a hard time trying to figure out just what WAS 'in his nature', especially since he was inexplicably credited with a second character class. It had taken time to come to grips realizing that he had somehow gained some features from the Priest class and, despite Durmel helping to keep him calm, he wasn't much closer to getting any answers. The one positive he'd been able to confirm, at least, was that he hadn't lost any of his Adapt class skills-- at least, he didn't thik he had.

Will and the Durmel had discussed the significance of healing magic and they worked together to come to the conclusion that by focusing so much on healing, Will must have been inducted to the purview of divine magics or, as the young man liked to think of it, he passed some experience threshhold that let him gain a level in a class he didn't previously hold. In addition to "Lesser Healing", Will also realized he understood how to use 'Divine Wrath', the only offensive spell Priests learned until their late teen levels. Durmel was the first between the two of them to question if Will would be able to pick up other classes.

That, however, begged another question and reminded him at the same time that he hadn't used his Summon ability on Minotaurus. He and the Ork returned to the dais, whereupon the minotaur was brought to The Eternal Halls. The enormous beast man immediately congratulated Will on his success once he was informed that the human was able to access divine magics, but his expression had changed from pleasant surprise to almost eager concern when Durmel suggested that Will and Minotaurus spar. In the end, the Berserker agreed, and that had led to a consistent and repeat pummeling for the young man.

The bull man's massive hand gripped the back of Will's cloak and he was hefted bodily to his feet. The young man brushed himself off, thinking for a moment as he took stock of himself; despite only having half his HP left, he didn't really LOOK that injured... but it still HURT! Turning back to regard his sparring partner, he asked "Tell me again why we thought this would help?"

The minotaur offered a casual shrug, gesturing widely with his bare hands. "You said you wished to test your limits and see if you could improve, Lord Etherborn... how could I deny you this opportunity?"

Durmel, who was standing off to the side, raised both his hands and used a powerful Priest spell. The lightshow that was the healing magics of "Greater Healing" engulfed the young man, restoring his health readily, very nearly to full. "Will... we need to know if what happened with your access to divine magic was a singular event or if the power of a Human Eternal is even greater than what we already know is possible."

In truth, Will was staring to doubt that impossible had suddenly become more probably or, at least, that any singular cross class leveling was a one-off. Perhaps the rules were different in the world where he found himself rather than the in-game Mytholm, but did that mean he had infinite capacity to gain multiple classes, or was his second class of Priest the limit for what he was capable in achieving? He didn't know but, as Minotaurus clenched his fists and returned to a ready stance, the human knew that the time for delay had passed... much to his regretful, aching chagrin.

Will sighed, threw his self-preservation instinct to the wind, and charged again. He slashed and stabbed several times, each one deflected by a keen block from the beast man's bracers. Fighting in Eternyte always seemed to effortless and, oddly enough, he didn't feel exhausted in the least— or, rather, he didn't so long as he avoided using any skills requiring Grit, Stamina, or Mana. He was even able to press the attack and talk at the same time, grunting with each strike. "I'm still --- ah! not-- ah! -- sure why --- uh! -- I thought -- oh! --- this --- ah! --- would be a --- huh! --- good idea!"

Minoutaurus had yet to break a sweat and didn't seem the least inconvenienced by the numerous attacks. He spoke casually while obviously having no trouble defending himself. "Well, we can stop any time My Lord wishes."

Following up the statement with a rapid rush forward, the minotaur planted a hoof behind Will's leading leg, and then firmly engulfed the human's head with one enormous hand... and pushed. Will lost his footing immediately and toppled to the ground one more time. Laying there longer than his previous times on the floor, the young man gazed up at the ceiling. "I'll never be as strong as you, Minotaurus. Maybe you're the wrong sparring partner."

The minotaur's deep chuckle had more than humor in it; there was a sense of humility. "Master, your strength is measured in far more than muscle or than in how you swing a sword."

Minotaurus stepped forward and once again hefted him up and onto his feet. Will wasn't convinced. "Yeah? I figured that's kinda what strength was all about."

The bull man shook his head, mussing up his mane with it settling down across his face. He scrunched up his muzzle and extended one thick, bottom lip, exhaling a powerful blast to free up one of his eyes from the curtain of fur that had obscured it. "No, my Lord. I speak to what you once told me the first time I died in your service."

Unlike most NPCs, who automatically despawned when they died, followers could be revived if their controlling player wished to spend the coin. In Will's case, revival was the rule of thumb for his. The event that Minotaurus referred to was a low level group quest that he and a few of his friends had done. There had been too few of them and they had all died as a result. The group disbanded after that and Will spent the rest of his time online writing in his in-game diary.

Minotaurus had been depressed at failing in the task and being unable to protect Will Etherborn. According to what he'd written, it took time for Minotaurus to accept his shortcomings and it had been due entirely to Will's character's intervention. He'd taken the beast man aside and told him something that he himself had heard long ago from his mom. "You can't always be strong, but you can always be brave."

He looked down at his diary, which was held open to that exact page in his hand, and he heard his own voice echo around the sparring chamber despite having said nothing. Minotaurus was standing directly in front of him, gazing down with adoration and devotion in his eyes. The minotaur nodded, gently taking Will's hand in his as he spoke, pulling it against his chest (the human was practically pulled up to his tip-toes to be able to reach it). The beast man's words came out far more softly than the human had ever recalled hearing from him ever speaking before. "You live the same life you preach, Master Etherborn... I know no one braver than you... or stronger."

Minotaurus was not a well-spoken individual. From what Will remembered, the minotaur had relatively low intelligence and almost as equally low charisma, but the words he'd all but parroted back still spoke true. Despite how fearsome and imposing the beast man was, Will knew that Minotaurus was loyal and so he had no reason to fear the massive warrior. Not usually one to connect easily with others, the human was surprised at just how much he appreciated having the minotaur there. Minotaurus was, after all, his oldest friend. The sentiment was ironic, and a little sad but, it was true.

Will wasn't sure what urge moved him in that moment but before he could second-guess the action, he wrapped his arms around Minotaurus' side and gave him a hug. The minotaur was so thick that the human's hands came nowhere near meeting on the far side of the berserker but it didn't stop him, but Minotaurus took in sharp breath out of surprise, expanding his midsection further with the inhalation. The beast man stood there passively for several long seconds, obviously as unprepared for what Will had done as the human himself was.

Will wasn't the hugging type; he kept people at arm's length; he maintained a cold demeanor to protect himself from relationships and emotions; he willfully avoided interaction. That hug, he reasoned, was not Will Becker-- it was Will Etherborn. Yet, even after realizing it, he maintained the closeness and when a large, awkward, furry hand came to rest against his back, he lost all pretense of not enjoying the contact

The beast-man had hardly broken a sweat in their sparring match but the strong scent of animal musk mixed with the treated leather he wore assailed Will's nose, and yet he didn't mind it; he was staring to get used to it as the distinct scent of Minotaurus. The minotaur's fur was coarse, but not unpleasantly so. While every part of Will should have been crying out that the berserker was a wild animal-- a monster-- a threat, the human couldn't help but feel the opposite. He felt safe.

Minotaurus eventually cleared his throat, removing his hand from Will's back and he inquired "Is this the end of the sparring for today, Master Etherborn?"

Will disengaged as well, taking a step back as he regarded his Follower. Years ago, back when Eternyte was a bustling MMORPG he'd often help new players by aiding them with leveling their attack skills. Any other high level character would have thoroughly beaten up a newbie, but casters were considered good punching bags since they didn't hit hard (or often), and were still considered high level opponents, thus, quick for upping melee skills. The human had hoped that training with Minotaurus would do the same, and possibly unlock a new class, but it had not happened.

Casters were, in fact, notoriously bad at melee combat and despite having access to sword use, Adepts were no exception. Granted, they were significantly better than a Mage or a Priest (the worst melee classes in the game by far), Adepts were only slightly better than an Enchanter, and a good deal worse than Commanders or Bards, who were considered the least-capable-melee-combatants-still-worth-being-on-the-front-line. Still, Will HAD spent some time increasing his melee skill so at least he wasn't abysmal-- yet that meant nothing against a level 124 Berserker like Minotaurus... and the minotaur was even fighting unarmed!

Those thoughts and more all cascaded into and out of Will's mind like a jumble. Taking away Minotaurus' axes wasn't just helping to even the playing field; it was practically a safety requirement. Even though they were sparring, Will had maintained use of his sword to decrease the dramatic difference in their melee prowess and, even so, in their many matches, he'd barely even taken 5% off of Minotaurus' health point total. In that moment, Will realized that he wouldn't make any headway fighting like an Adept.

Sheathing his sword, the human loosened his weapon belt and dropped it to the ground. Beyond that, he also removed his enchanted cloak, his armored bracers, and his magical boots. "Alright, Minotaurus... one more time."

The minotaur's ears rose up and his eyes widened noticeably. Durmel, off to the side, let out a long sigh. "I'll prepare another healing spell then... shall I?"

Minotaurus regained his composure, but still looked hesitant, and it was obvious that he wasn't worried about his own safety. "My Lord, are you certain this is wise?"

Will cracked a sardonic smirk. "Like fighting you in the first place was?"

The minotaur offered a neutral shrug. "I would not forgive myself if I killed you, Lord Etherborn."

The human's smile widened. "Good. I wouldn't forgive you either!"

Following his exclamation with a charge, Will closed the distance between himself and Minotaurus with a Commander ability 'Gust'. Usually it was activated to move a character backward but there was no rule that said it had to be used in a retreat, and so Will found himself within melee range immediately. Adepts fell into the 'why bother?' category when it came to fighting unarmed, but Will had to know just how different the world in which he found himself was from the Eternyte game, and he struck.

When his fist collided with Minotaurus' rock-hard abdomen the human was almost sure that he broke something in his hand, but he didn't have time to dwell on it as the minotaur barreled into him, overbearing him with an extreme weight advantage. Will side-stepped out of the way, narrowly dodging the attack. That, in and of itself was a surprise since Adepts didn't have a dodge score, meaning they couldn't actually avoid being hit. As the berserker spun around to face him, Will sprang back, raising a foot to lash out.

Back when he was younger, Will had been coerced into taking martial arts classes for a summer; it had been taught on the military base by one of the army instructors just for the army brats, and he had hated it. Neither an incredibly physical person, nor inclined to violence, the boy had considered it waste of time, but, as his heel collided with Minotaurus thigh the contact it made was solid, and the minotaur let out a decisive grunt. Will let out a gasp of his own when he felt a familiar surge of heat flow through him.

As with before, the sensation lasted only a few moments, and he was blinded again for a split second. Minotaurus, heedless of the event, had recovered, and launched a fierce punch right at Will's head. Body moving of its own accord, the human ducked down and to the side, a single arm rising up as his fingers brushed across the back of the beast man's hand and then, muscles tensed, applied enough force to it to send it careening off harmlessly to the side. Will had seen the technique before; all first level Monks had the 'Evade' ability, which let them automatically avoid one attack every ten seconds.

The sparring came to a stop at that point. Minotaurus ended his combat stance and dropped his arms. His ears were up, and an almost indignant expression creased his muzzle. "Master Etherborn... were you playing with me this entire time?"

Will shook his head. "No... I think I--"

He interrupted his own words by holding out a hand; his diary appeared in it obediently and opened to the front page. He read the new ownership information.

Will Etherborn

Human Eternal

Adept lvl 125

Priest lvl 1

Monk lvl 1

Will HAD gained another class... and it was a level of Monk?!?

Durmel took a step closer. "Is something wrong, Will? What happened?"

At a loss for words it took Will some time to figure out how to respond or what to say. Eventually, he decided on keeping the explanation simple. "Um... 'Ding'?"