RotMG Sequel: Chapter I
In the Realm, it seemed that humble beginnings rarely achieved any sort of success — a success that, according to the veterans, was based upon survival and economic accomplishment. Strength, wit, and agility in battle were especially valued, as was one's stash of battle spoils, but there was hardly anything beyond that. Due to the world's high mortality rate, it was hard for most people to survive even on a daily basis. There was, first and foremost, the question of protection. To say that each and every human in the Realm would eventually find themselves pitted against hordes of monsters was no understatement; in fact, the human race frequently found itself vastly outnumbered. The Mad God's minions spawned to no end, and not a day passed by without battle; there would be mass casualties, dozens injured, and hundreds dead.
The internal monster that attacked each human — such things known as hunger or thirst — was solved by the trading of battle equipment for food. Fortunately the Realm did have towns — four, to be exact — and there were settlers who farmed and raised livestock; the world seemed, for some reason (especially around Nexus) to be abundant in sheep. There were chickens as well, and every once in a while a large mutated chicken — otherwise known as the 'Evil Chicken God' (but it was perfectly harmless) — would arrive, begging to be slain by travelers. None really knew where they came from, for few people ever delved into the secrets of the Realm's providence — most were too busy dealing with the world's abundance of cruel harshness. Every day there were deaths, and friends, loved ones, and even family would be separated from each other. Those who lived too long in cities ran out of equipment to trade and starved to death, and the battle against Oryx was an eternal one, for the Mad God would return every time he was defeated; it was quite literally impossible for any mortal to slay a God.
It was no surprise, then, that human goodwill — a necessity formed from the imperative demand for cooperation amongst people in the Realm — would create charities and the like to ease the sheer magnitude of suffering in the world. It was a new concept, especially to the veterans, who did not resort to begging and had always fought to carve out a niche in the world for themselves. Furthermore, due to the anarchist nature of the Realm — even in towns, there was absolutely no government — large organizations were difficult to establish. But perhaps it was due to the increase in newcomers arriving into the Realm over time that sparked such a demand for charity, and veterans soon began donating to those groups in order to preserve the generosity that had always been their self-image. By far the largest was the center in Dale's Port, which gave out free equipment to registered individuals in exchange for communal service; there was absolutely no debt.
When it came to the beginnings of one's journey, most people found themselves sorely out of luck. With no memory of their past lives, hundreds were sent out each day carrying a simple weapon — such as a staff, a wand, or a bow — and left to fend for themselves. Almost half of them would eventually die off in about a year; those who survived longer were generally considered to be official "citizens" of the Realm. It was perhaps easier, however, for those who came (miraculously) with memories of their past lives still intact; easier still if these memories manifested themselves in the form of an actual person. In fact, to have a familiar companion with oneself was perhaps better than any skill or weapon. It had been observed many times that in strange and unknown places (such as an Abyss) humans tend to seek the company of others to share in their fear; in doing so their own fear and worry were lessened. In such a terrifying place as the Realm of the Mad God a companion would then be an imperious desire; one that perhaps becomes the very source of a person's comfort, and they would cling onto it and protect it with all their life.
Damn. The worst time of day is the moment you wake up in the morning. To him the waking mind was something that had to be endured; at least in sleep, his discomfort was diminished. The boy sat up and stretched his weary arms, though he kept his eyes closed — he was still too tired to open them. A second later he plopped back down upon the bed, though he hardly believed that he could fall asleep again — the gleaming sunlight shining through the window reminded him of something; something important that he knew he had planned for and had to get done today. And the birds chirping on the branches of the trees outside were noisy and distracting.
Milam was such an individual who had the benefit of familiarity. The cleric was about seventeen years old; a tall boy with dark blond hair and green eyes; he had a high forehead that gave him an intelligent, yet also somewhat pretentious look, as well as a wide nose and a rounded chin. As a half-citizen of the Realm (it had been six months since he woke up in this world) Milam had fared quite well, having recently purchased a small house to live in within the town of Dale's Port at the western half of the world. Although his equipment was excellent, the same could not be said about his economic status. The purchase had cost him almost all his belongings and he departed to his new home with barely a health pot to spare. He had arrived hungry and lived rather malnourished for a few weeks, feeding himself upon bread, rice, and a few vegetables. The Health Pots — which always existed in abundance around the economy (and in some places were even free) — provided him with adequate nourishment due to its healing properties, and by the end of his first month he had managed to keep himself in apt health. But by then Milam was sick of going to bed hungry each night, and he did not want his companion to live so miserably alongside him.
Not long after arriving into the Realm Milam had found a distant cousin of his — a relative that he remembered in his vague memories — wandering around Nexus, lonely and confused. His name was Kirie, a boy who was about six years younger than Milam — making him perhaps one of the youngest people in the entire Realm. Kirie happened to look very different than Milam, but he had been easy to recognize; the boy had long and straight black hair that fell just above his gray eyes, and his small nose, eyes, and mouth gave him an almost androgynous look. Milam didn't know Kirie that well and the two had kept their distance at first, but eventually Kirie — with nowhere else to turn (he could not fight any monsters) — returned to Milam and asked if he could tag along.
The older boy was somewhat of an introvert, and thought that he was getting along fine in the Realm. At that time luck had served him well, and Milam had already acquired for himself his present-day equipment: the Wand of Shadow, procured through a hunt in some obscure cave for demons; a red healing tome (which was supposedly forged by the hands of Oryx himself) had been given to him as a gift by a veteran Priest; he had fought and defeated a Cube God in Ranorn Forest to acquire the beautiful green Elder Robe, and finally a large onyx-studded ring was gotten as a hunting trophy from a Medusa, which he had slain with a group in Amerdoth. He valued by far the robe the most, for it was weaved of an extremely expensive material — he believed it was Emerald Silk, acquired from trades between the Realm-elves back in the days when those forest men were still sane.
He could've been a lot richer if he had sold his equipment, but the cleric had refused to; he felt somewhat attached to his gear, as if they were a part of him. As Milam walked down the stairs of his house, he once again considered this appealing alternative — it bothered him almost every day - and again, he denied thinking any further of it. He remembered how he had found that valley with the pit in the middle of the Euryon Highlands, and how he — along with that veteran priest, whose name was Sven — had crawled through it together. Afterwards they fought through a cave that was apparently a demon's nest — not like an abyss, more like a gathering place — and how he found, in their treasury at the end, the dynamically powerful Shadow Wand. That had been one of those most intense and exciting experiences of his life, and Milam did not want to forget about it by selling the spoils that he had acquired.
Kirie always awoke earlier than him, and now the boy stood in the dining room with 'breakfast' out on the table — leftover vegetables and rice from last night. This time Milam did not bother eating anything, and he simply grabbed his wand before preparing to head out the door.
"Are you going to buy something?" Kirie came running down their living room hall and stood with his arms folded in front of the older boy.
Just last night Milam had concluded that if Kirie were to be useful in any way, he might as well find something interesting to do while he was around the house. In terms of entertainment the Realm did not offer much, especially with its lack of electronic technology. A few classic games and activities, such as chess or cards, were easy enough for the people in the Realm to recreate. But even that had gotten old, and soon people began to delve into more complicated things, such as music or art or even mathematics. Both Kirie and Milam expressed interest in music, but at the moment they were far too poor to pursue any of it.
"I'll look around," Milam responded. "I'm not going to guarantee anything, though." Kirie gave an odd smile and then leaned against the wall.
"I'm going to the market today. If I'm not back by the afternoon, assume that I won't be coming back until tomorrow."
The town was Dale's Port, and it was fairly modern for a city of the Realm, with buildings and houses that were made of brick and stone; the city had been built beside the sea and was located upon the western coast of the highlands. In terms of design the town was quite orderly, with districts for various industries such as construction or trade; they were all connected to one main central road that circled around the city, creating a pathway between the busy town square — which was located right beside the beach — and the ship-filled ports. Along this road, and especially at the beach — where business and people were most festive - would be the food markets; equipment stores were generally placed within the town's interior neighbourhoods. Today it was bright and sunny outside (as were most days in the Realm), and there was a cool and salty sea breeze in the air. The morning atmosphere seemed to cheer Milam up a little as he proceeded towards the town square.
He would, along the way, stop to visit the local charity.
The charity at Dale's Port was a large and nameless building that lay right beside the entrance to the markets; it was about an hour's walk away from his home. Being the largest in the entire Realm, the streets beside the charity were usually crowded with people lining up for its services. Milam had arrived early, however, and there were not too many people there except for a few workers. A rock garden filled with green, yellow, and pink cherry shrubs heralded the entrance into the building; the main road leading through it was surrounded by vaults containing various assortments of unique plants, such as red cacti-like flowers or blue thistles. He walked along this road, which circled around the exterior edge of the garden, before arriving at the entrance gate.
Maybe I should've asked Kirie if he wanted to come along with me. It's going to be a long day; I might get a little bored walking by myself.
Not long after he knocked upon the door did a few people come and allowed him to enter, greeting him with warm smiles. For a second Milam wondered why he had not arrived earlier; the place seemed friendly enough, and his economic condition definitely needed improving. Perhaps he had thought himself above charities, considering his high quality equipment and fighting experience; it was not until Kirie came along that he actually began to become poor. I hope the people who run this charity don't turn me down when they see my gear, Milam thought.
The cleric had noticed, strangely, that the guards continued smiling for a few seconds after he passed by them; they seemed to stare blankly into space as Milam went through the door. Afterwards they returned back to normal and closed up the gate behind them. He didn't seem to think much of it at the time, though.
A large portion of the inside of the building appeared to be a stone hallway with a high ceiling; here, the walls had been painted yellow, and at certain intervals the hall would arrive at a junction where it would branch off into other passageways that were lined with doors. Large flaming torches and high windows lined the walls of the hallway, and at the end there was a large bronze door; the place seemed more of a castle than a charity location. Nevertheless, Milam calmly approached the door, and he tried to avoid putting up a business air around himself; his equipment was already enough of an indication that he was not really that poor. This was a bit hard to do with the cleric's normally pretentious demeanor.
Oh, dammit. Maybe I should've left all my gear back at home…
The door swung open with ease and he arrived at the manager's room, where sat an elderly man in a black suit behind a large wooden desk. There were two people beside him: one was a tall woman with long, curly blond hair, and the other was a man of larger bulk, who had black hair and tanned skin. They looked welcoming enough, if not slightly bureaucratic (which was an odd thing to see in the Realm). Milam slowly stepped forward and tried to present himself as formally as possible.
"Good morning," Milam said to the man in the suit, bowing slightly. It was the curly-haired woman who stepped forward and greeted him in response. "You have need of our services?"
Milam nodded. "I don't look very poor, but I live with-"
"You don't look poor? Nonsense!" the lady responded, and she stepped forward to shake Milam's hand — much to the cleric's surprise. "Here, let me introduce ourselves. My name is Selena; that's Belk over there —" she pointed to the man with the black hair "- and our chairman is Artem. We're here to provide services for you whenever you need them."
Milam felt a bit taken aback by this. It was a bit strange for Selena to insist that he was poor; that seemed a very odd thing to tell others. The cleric nodded again and tried not to think much of it. He looked towards the man behind the desk and saw that Artem, too, was smiling cheerfully at him; at the moment, Milam thought that something didn't seem right. The guards back at the entrance gate of the building smiled an awful lot as well. He supposed that if he was running a charity he would also have his employees appear as friendly as possible, especially since such an organization aimed to provide aid to others. Their welcoming demeanor eventually convinced Milam that nothing was really wrong; after all, at the moment, he was in much need of their help. The cleric quickly let the thought pass that something was amiss.
"We'll start you off with some gear," Belk said as the large man stepped forward. He seemed completely oblivious of the fact that Milam was wearing an Elder Robe, one of the most powerful pieces of equipment in the entire Realm. Nevertheless, Milam nodded and accepted Belk's offer kindly.
Artem turned around in his chair and retrieved an Eldritch Wand, a white Illusionist's Robe, and two silver rings. Milam looked over the items, and then he shook his head. "I can't," he responded. "I already have much better equipment with me right now."
"We can see that," Artem replied. "But you can sell these items for food, can you not? Please, take them."
Surprised that they did not care about the prestige of his equipment, Milam nodded and hastily stuffed the equipment away into his backpack. He thanked Artem all the while; although the items were meager, he knew that he could buy at least a couple days' worth ofactual food with them, something that the cleric felt he had been deprived of for a very long time. For an entire month he ate nothing but grains and vegetables, and the health pots were starting to wear on him; he couldn't wait to go and find something delicious at the market.
"You may come back any time," Selena said as Milam prepared to leave. "We don't mind if you end up becoming very reliant on us."
The cleric thanked them once again, though not without slight hesitation. He was, first of all, rather surprised by the hastiness of the charity's services. Milam thought he would have to sign contracts; perhaps the manager needed information about his current economic condition and the status of his health before they were willing to give him any gear. After all, with services as lax as theirs, a veteran could walk right into the building dressed as a priest in rags and demand for equipment, and he or she would be given everything they wanted without question. Although perhaps he did look a bit thin and malnourished; it had been a long time since Milam had had a proper meal. He thought that maybe Artem had dealt with many people like him before, and he would know exactly when someone was really in need of help or not.
But Milam had also been slightly disturbed by what Selena had said. We don't mind if you end up becoming very reliant on us. It felt a bit strange — or, rather, stranger than before — for her to say something like that. Nevertheless, he decided to calm his doubts, feeling that he shouldn't question kindness — especially not in a situation as poor as his, for he sorely needed their charity. "Thank you all very much," Milam said, trying to sound as generous as possible, before turning around to leave the room.
Later that day the cleric had made towards the market. Dale's port, being located upon the coast, was obviously abundant in seafood; much of it was fish — salmon, bass, carp, tuna, and catfish were the most popular — but there were also small squids, shrimp, crabs, lobsters, eels, and even lamprey available as well. He had always found quite surprising the similarities in the food of the Realm to those (that he remembered) of the world that he came from. For a long time Milam had not eaten meat, and he thought that he would buy something big to feast on tonight. Thus he made his way to the vendors at the center of the town square, where usually the most expensive products were sold.
Already a large crowd was gathered there; most people shopped early so that the products that they bought were fresh to eat for the day. Milam made his way onto the beach and towards a cluster of vendors who had large fish lined up for purchase. As he inspected each one of them, a distinguished face suddenly popped into view. Milam turned around and was surprised to find a familiar figure standing behind him.
"What are you doing here?" The cleric shouted enthusiastically before waving 'hello' to the person standing nearby. It was Liwen, an associate of his that Milam had met back at the town of Nexus. Unlike most other people in the Realm, Liwen did not do any hunting at all — or even any fighting. He was an innate sorcerer, but had no real interest in going out into the Realm and killing monsters with his spells. Rather Liwen seemed a researcher of some sorts who experimented upon various natural phenomena in the Realm; he was not really a scientist, though, seeing as how 'science' was quite inapplicable in a world where magic existed.
"I moved in an old house here just a week ago," the boy responded. Liwen was about a year younger than Milam; he had dark brown hair and eyes, with a high forehead and cheeks that gave him somewhat of a conceited appearance, and usually wore his typical gray or red sorcerer's cloak. "Some rich veterans are willing to pay me to study the nature of magic in the Realm. It's quite a fascinating job once you get into the details of it."
Milam nodded. That was typical of Liwen; he found no interest in slaying monsters and preferred a quiet life on the home front.
"By the way, you look famished," the sorcerer continued. At this Milam thought to himself: Maybe I do appear rather starved. Perhaps that's why the people at the charity were so willing to lend me help…
"I'd be fine off by myself," Milam responded. "But I have my younger cousin to take care of. He's too weak to hold a weapon, and has no interest in doing any hunting at all." The cleric proceeded forward in line until he finally arrived in front of the vendor. There, he began looking over what he could buy.
"You can't just dump him, can you?"
"That'd be inhumane." A couple yellowfin tuna looked delicious, but he also wanted to try crab or lobster and various other delicacies that were too expensive for him to purchase. "Fortunately, I just got some gear off the local charity. I can actually afford to buy some decent food for dinner today."
"You know how things worked when people first arrived into the Realm?" Liwen asked. "They'd hunt monsters, and eat them for dinner each day. Imagine that! The warriors of old would roast a Medusa tail over a pot of fire, or make stew with the meat of lizard gods…"
Good thing I'm not in that kind of situation, Milam thought to himself. Come to think of it, I am fortunate enough to have woken up into a more civilized sort of Realm…
"If you're really that hungry, then you should have checked out the charity sooner," Liwen said in a somewhat sarcastic tone of voice. "Wouldn't want your little cousin to starve, either."
"Shut up," Milam snapped in response. He finally decided to purchase the yellowfin fish, which cost him his Eldritch Wand. The cleric still had some gear left, but he decided to save it and spend it on something else later.
"Or, if you think you're strong enough, you can try answering to some of the hunts," Liwen continued.
There came a point when people in the Realm were rich enough that they would host petitions, or hunts as the majority of the public called them, to go and slay certain monsters out in the wilderness. Usually these were more powerful monsters, and large rewards were given to the best of hunters for clearing out the strongest fiends that plagued the travelers of the Realm.
Though I'm poor, I'm not exactly inexperienced in the field of battle. Maybe I should try it out…but that would require me to go out on a journey again…
Liwen opened up his backpack and brought out several folded sheets of paper. He gave one of them to Milam and smiled sheepishly.
"I get some extra gear by handing out petitions to people. Why don't you try this one out? It's quite close to the town, so you won't have to leave your house and your cousin behind for too long."
Milam scrutinized the poster carefully.
Petition: The Marilith
I'm not sure what this thing is. It looks like a really giant teapot, but I'm guessing it's actually some sort of a fat snake or serpent. It's been hanging out near the coast of Dale's Port lately, terrorizing lots of travelers who are coming to the town from the highlands. Won't anyone slay the Marilith for me? Bring the head of the creature to 3246 Carron Street to claim your prize.
Reward: 1 Ravenheart Sword, 2 pink pots
"Near the coasts of Dale's Port? I could get there and back in less than a day. The trouble would be actually finding and slaying the creature, though…"
"If the thing's notorious enough to have a reputation for 'terrorizing travelers', you probably won't have much trouble finding it," Liwen responded. "As for the second part of the deal, well, that's your own problem."
Milam took a few seconds to read over the poster again. "This isn't a scam, is it?" It actually sounds like a rather good opportunity for me to test myself and to become a bit richer. I don't want my hunting skills to have gotten rusty over the past month…
"There's a center for the making and distribution of Wanted Posters in this town, you know. If you get scammed, simply report the petitioner to that center, and then you can sue for your prize."
The cleric nodded. "Hey, can I keep the poster for a sec, then?"
"Sure. Now, give it back," Liwen replied sarcastically.
Milam gave the sorcerer an unpleasant stare. "You know what I mean," he said. "I'd like to give this hunt a try, at least."
Liwen shrugged. "Of course you can keep it."
The vendor had dropped the yellowfish tuna into a sack and given it to the cleric after he exchanged the Eldritch Wand. I was thinking about buying more than just food from the market today, Milam thought to himself. There's nothing ever to do around the house, and I need to find something for Kirie to do if he wants to make himself useful. He didn't yet know what he could buy — perhaps a game set, or maybe even a musical instrument —but he dreaded thinking of going home without something to please his little cousin. Being his only family-bound companion in the entirety of the Realm, Milam felt a certain devotion to Kirie, even if the boy cost him his freedom and what possible wealth he could've accumulated if he had gone on a long-term journey.
Well, Kirie knows that he's quite useless to me. That's why he's so afraid of the fact that I might leave him one day.
"I'll go check this hunt out," Milam said at last. "Liwen, would you mind doing me a favour?"
"Yes?"
"Bring this fish over to my house and cook it as dinner for my cousin. His name's Kirie, by the way, and I live on 2133 Acres Crescent. That is, if you're not busy today, of course."
Liwen shrugged. "I don't have much else to do, anyways. Kirie won't be surprised to find a stranger entering his house, would he?"
"No. He's quite well-behaved."
With that, the two of them parted ways, Milam heading towards the northern exit of the town near the coastline — eager to be upon his first journey again in a long time. Even if it did turn out later to be rather short.
