My black cloak rippled in the wind as I stood among the vast plains of the first floor, admiring the wooden necklace on my wrist. I was rather reluctantly heading toward "Starting City", as there was to be an important gathering that would occur there today. I was reluctant because venturing into a city in my current… predicament could easily result in my death.
I glanced up in irritation at the orange player marker above my head. The mark had been a perpetual curse for the past thirteen days. I had quickly discovered that guards within cities did not react kindly to orange branded players, and the seemingly invincible AI's would threaten to catch me and kill me. Perhaps at higher levels defeating the guards would be a plausible feat. I would just have to wait and see, but until then, I was forced to flee from them.
Therefore I had avoided towns as much as I could, choosing to only venture within those once safe areas only if I desperately needed to restock on potions, or desperately in need of food. Otherwise for the past two weeks I had been living inside the grizzled mountain man's cabin on top of the hill that I had discovered with Martin. I hadn't dared to sleep outside of a house, for fear that monsters would kill me in my sleep, and the occupants of the house had not been vocally adverse against my presence.
The old man's cabin had not been the only house in the plains I had discovered, but it was the only one that was appropriate for me. I had discovered several other houses, but other players commonly visited them for various reasons, and if the AI guards had been trouble, then other players were deadly.
The day that I had murdered Dark Blade, I had fled "Starting City", eager to avoid being captured by Red. Martin had sent me an urgent message minutes after Rhythm and I had parted.
-Do not stay in "Starting City", a crazy red headed bitch has informed some of the more experienced players to watch out for a bloodthirsty murderer who goes by the name of Sirius. I trust you amigo, stay alive-
I was glad that I had met one person in this crazed world who I could trust. Following Martin's reasonable advice I fled the city immediately, managing to avoid any players, but unfortunately attracting the attention of a number of guards. Fortunately guards weren't programmed to leave safe zones so as soon as I had sprinted past the looming arches at the north gate, they abandoned their pursuit.
That night had been my first experience being treated like a criminal.
I had been following the well defined, commonly used footpath that led away from "Starting City". On the path I discovered a party of six players, quite the large party, especially at this point in the game. Barely a week had passed and they had already organized themselves into a full sized party. I concluded that they had been out hunting and were now returning to "Starting City". "Home", was what many people called "Starting City" now.
I saw them, and raised my hand in a friendly gesture, but instead of receiving a friendly call in return, I heard a barrage of harsh orders from what appeared to be their leader. Before I grasped the situation the group had surrounded me.
"Pay for your crimes, murderer!" The leader shouted, before lunging at me.
It was fortunate that I had left "Starting City" the day after hearing the GM's announcement, as it gave me a distinct level advantage over the majority of players. This was fortunately the case with this party of six, none of which were over level three.
Perhaps they didn't know that I was level seven, or perhaps all the fighting with weak animals had lulled them into a false sense of god like invincibility, but they were not worried about attacking me.
And that worried me.
I did not want to kill anyone. I did not want to be a murderer. I had been forced to take such an extreme action against Dark Blade. I would never regret my choice, as I had saved more lives than taken lives with that murder, but that didn't mean that I was a blood lusting players who was hell bent on murdering other players. These idiotic low level players were unfortunately tempting fate though.
With a lithe step to the side, and a simple slash from my broadsword I lowered the leaders health by 70%. One blow had almost killed him in one hit! The leader noticed this and was visibly worried, but the rest of the party were oblivious to their leaders predicament, and continued to fight me.
Not wanting to accidentally one hit kill someone, as I was sure that is exactly what could happen with one of the weaker players, I focused solely on attacking their blades. I dodged and weaved around the arsenal of attacks that assaulted me, my acrobatics skill allowing me to be agile and light on my feet. My agility was far greater than anyone in the opposing party, and I was able to dodge most of the attacks gracefully and easily. It was impossibly to avoid every attack, as I was being assaulted from five directions (the leader had refused to re-enter the fight), but none of the attacks were direct hits, only glancing blows off of my vambraces or shoulders. Even without being heavily armoured, the scathing blows only chipped away around 5% of my health each time.
To them, I must have seemed like a God, an omnipotent being impossible to defeat. It occurred to me that the SAO system could indeed make players into Gods. If one were stronger than every other player in the game by a substantial level difference, then they would be unbeatable. Even if every player in the game attacked simultaneously if one were high enough leveled they could simply regenerate at a faster rate than at what they take damage. Was that a flaw in the game, or had that style of character progression been included purposefully?
The party had fled in terror by the time I had shattered three of their weapons, and injured the other two players. As they ran, they screamed threats and promises of revenge. One of them shouted something about a seven foot, blond haired demon, and I sighed as I realized that my identity as a murderer had been compromised within hours. The party would obviously retell this scene to an eager crowd back at "Starting City", and Red would undoubtedly hear, put the information together, and realize that the murderer she was chasing had fled the city and was on the run.
I did not sleep that night for fear that monsters would attack me, and instead fought against "Dire Wolves" until daybreak. Once upon a time they had been too strong and dangerous for me, but I was now one level stronger then them. It was still a challenge to fight them, and I had to remain focused throughout the night, but it was a comforting distraction from the day's events.
I had been disappointed that the nighttime wolves gave no extra experience or col despite being four levels stronger then the regular wolves. Four whole levels stronger! And nothing extra! It was ridiculous, but I presumed that it was to dissuade players to fight at night, and to enjoy a regular schedule such as dinner and sleep.
Both dinner and sleep were impossible for me though, and so I fought until morning, with only two health potions remaining, but one level stronger. I felt no satisfaction however, just exhaustion, and I stumbled over to a tree and pondering how to climb it and sleep in the branches when I received another message from Martin.
-Bad news amigo, they got posters of you everywhere, it's just like one of those cowboy movies. Whatever you do, do not return to "Starting City". If there's anything you need to buy, tell me, and let's meet up at the house on the hill-
I thanked the heavens that Martin was as loyal and helpful as he was. I asked him to buy two-dozen health potions, along with enough food for the next four days. I would have asked for more food if there weren't an expiry date on every single food product in this game. Some foods took longer to go off then others, but everything did eventually, and when it did it simply shattered into non-existence. I once personally experienced that very miserable way for a slice of cake to disappear.
Two hours later I had met with Martin at the house on the hill, and he delivered the goods. I tried to pay him a substantial amount of col, as that many health potions were incredibly expensive, but he refused, stating that the teleportation crystal I had thrown at him during the previous quest was of approximately equal value to that many potions.
I had grumbled about not liking to owe people, but Martin had just grinned and laughed his colourful laughter. It was relieving that not all players would assault orange players, and would actually aid them. I thought about it a bit more, and decided that it wasn't so much relieving as worrying. What if in the future certain players helped real bloodthirsty murderers survive? I sighed when I realized that the general population would not be able, or not be willing, to distinguish between myself or a real bloodthirsty murderer.
Martin then grimly told me about the situation in "Starting City". The name "Sirius" had become something of a taboo. The title had spread like wildfire, and in the space of twelve hours, it had become a fixed part of the game language. If someone told you that you were being "Sirius", it meant you were going crazy, or planning to do something dangerous to others that you would regret. The spelling behind the name had become obscured, and eventually players who were "Sirius" were labelled as "Serious Players".
"Trust me," Martin had said, "You do not want to be labelled as a serious player, no one dares to interact with you for fear they'll be murdered."
What was most surprising was that this change had come about in the past twelve hours. Either Red was an advertising prodigy, or the average player within "Starting City" was so bored and miserable that they absorbed any news they heard instantly as a way to pass the time.
Martin's story got worse. A particular party had seen my face when I had run into them the night before. One of them, unfortunately for me, had been training the painting skill. The wanted posters of me that were being created were an unfortunately decent reflection of what I actually looked like. Being naturally 6'4 didn't help much either.
Martin and I both agreed that until it was safe I should wear the black cloak Rhythm had given me last night at all times and cover my face as often as possible. Although I would be unable to hide my status as an orange player (Or as a "Serious Player", I supposed), I would be able to hide my identity.
I thanked Martin greatly for everything he had done. He simply responded with a serious expression on his face. "Don't thank me, this is what friends do," and he had left.
I had 'ahhed" in realization. Of course, Martin wasn't just some companion I had met in this game. He was a friend, and a brave and loyal one at that. I had fought with him, fought with our lives on the line, and both of us had selflessly made life-threatening sacrifices for each other. If that didn't make us friends, then I didn't know what did.
That was when I realized that I had to change my way of thinking about this world that I was currently living in. It was not longer just a video game where you meet people online for a while, and never see them again. This was a brand new vivid world that was going to be my home for god knows how long. If I was going to survive this game mentally intact then I would have to admit that SAO was as real as the world I had once occupied.
That realization took a surprisingly large load off my shoulders. I no longer felt stressed about being stuck in a video game. I understood that I was no longer stuck in a game but rather living my life in a beautiful world.
Re-equiped with two dozen precious potions I ventured out of the house on the hill to do the only thing I could do, train. For the following thirteen days I had hunted down and fought the "Giant Brown Bears", the monster that Martin had once pursued for a quest.
It was all a surprisingly convenient arrangement. The fights were always one on one, which I excelled at in comparison to being outnumbered but by weaker foes. The forest that the bears were located in was bordered against the hill that the house sat upon, meaning I had little need to venture far, and if I was ever tired, I could retreat to the safety of the house immediately. Most importantly, the "Giant Brown Bears" were possibly the strongest respawnable enemies of the first floor. The skeleton I had fought with Martin was stronger, but that monster was never to respawn again. The bears on the other hand respawned every thirty minutes or so, and there were always a few of them roaming around the forest. Therefore I spent my days travelling through the forest on a bear hunt.
Martin delivered food and health potions to me every few days. He explained important things that were occurring in the world of SAO, and tried to answer any questions I asked him.
The most important question I had asked him was how long the orange player icon would stay above my head for. He had unfortunately been unable to discover this information so far, and although he apologized, I felt that he had no need to. He was putting himself in enough danger just asking people about orange players. He didn't have to apologize to me about putting his own life in danger.
When I tried to explain this, he had simply brushed it off by saying "We're amigos remember? This is what we do for each other," and all I could do was smile, and tell him off for calling me an amigo.
Eight days into my training I had yet to lose my orange player marker, which was not a cause to celebrate, but I had reached level ten, which was a cause to celebrate. I had eaten up all of the sweet cakes that the cute NPC granddaughter had offered to Martin and I on my first night at the house, and had been deeply disappointed that there was a finite amount. When I returned to the cabin on the eighth day, the NPC granddaughter gave me an adorable wink, and slipped a sweet cake into my palms while saying "Congratulations".
It was indeed strange, but I felt that the NPC's, which should have been non-sentient beings, were reacting to my constant presence around them, and drawing them in, making me part of their family. Call me crazy, but I could've sworn I heard the grizzled old man muttering about finding a girl for his grandson to marry.
Common sense kicked in, and I warned myself not to get attached to these pieces of data, because in the end they were not real. As much as it pained me to think it, I had to tell myself that they did not exist.
However, I had to find some way to thank the grand daughter, and I felt uncomfortable calling her grand daughter, or girl, so I decided to name her Lily. This was purely a rational reasoning however, to make it easier for me to communicate with her, and was most definitely not influenced at all by my rampant emotions.
Needless to say, I was surprised when the old man presented me with a bed, and a whole bedroom to myself. The old man had supposedly spent all day building the bed from supplies he had gathered from the surrounding area. He was a master wood worker, as evidenced from the creation of Martin's shield, and the bed was a work of art. The bed was made of solid wood, and I had woken up stiff all over, but I couldn't wipe the smile off my face as I thanked the doting grandfather.
When I reached level ten I unlocked a new skill slot. I immediately selected the "Hiding" skill. I was hoping it would enable me to enter cities stealthily and avoid players in the fields. I was still worried about being confronted by other players during the day, and hopefully the hiding skill would prevent this.
From day eight onwards, I did not just attack the "Giant Brown Bears", but stalked them from the treetops for hours at a time. This tactic was excellent, as it raised my hiding skill as I hid, my acrobatics skill as I jumped from tree to tree, and my spotting skill as I constantly discovered wildlife from my elevated perch.
On the twelfth night I sat down to eat dinner with my impromptu family. The old man told stories about a legion solider who travelled around the world helping people in need, and fighting in the dark war. Lily listened attentively, and I realized that the stories her grandfather told her must be one of the highlights of her day. It was a shame that the stories were not true, but I didn't have the heart to ruin that for Lily.
As the old man became absorbed in his story his eyes would gaze at the ornate sword that was hung above the fireplace. I could tell by looking at it that it was not a sword for fighting with, but a sword for decoration. The hilt guard appeared to be made of intricately carved silver, and I failed to see how that would be beneficial in a battle.
The old man would often gaze lovingly at that sword, and so despite my initial dismissal of the blade I grew ever more curious as to the story behind the sword. Perhaps there was a quest involved somehow to receive it, I pondered.
By the thirteenth day, I was level eleven, and the bears were a pitiful excuse of a challenge for me. It was on the thirteenth day when Martin sent me an important message.
-The First Floor Final Boss has been discovered. There is a meeting at the auditorium in "Starting City" to discuss strategies. Come at your own risk-
That damn Spaniard. He must have known that a message like that would cause me to rush to the "Starting City" in perfect ignorance of any danger that I might encounter.
So I packed up as many of my belongings as I could from around the house. The old man had made me a treasure chest last night for me to store the excess amounts of bear fur I had been acquiring. Sometimes he could be such a caring guardian. Lily hugged me before I left, making me promise to come back. I laughed and reassured her of my return, and she slipped a small wooden bracelet around my wrist. The wood was carved clumsily, but was exceptionally crafted for a nine year old girl. Her grandfather must teach her the arts of wood crafting during the day when I was out training. There were words engraved on the bracelet, and although some of the letters were a little illegible, the message was unmistakable.
-Big Brother-
I was still admiring the bracelet when I decided to take a rest upon the vast plains of the first floor. My black cloak rippled in the wind, and I reluctantly began walking again to "Starting City", praying this reckless action wouldn't result in my death.
Sirius/Richard: Level eleven
Stats:
Strength: 16
Agility: 15
Dexterity: 5
Perception: 10
Vitality: 9
Luck: ?
Skills:
Two Handed Sword Skill: 93
Acrobatics: 78
Spotting: 49
Hiding: 55
Sword Skills:
Vertical Crush
Ghost Rush
…
Just in case you were curious ^^
Cheers
-Council