CPC-02. Couch Potato Crisis, page 33
part #2 of Couch Potato Chronicles Series
He backed away. “I…I have to go. Thank you, señor. Charles is free!”
Charles’s unexpected behavior ended up only being the second strangest thing to happen that evening. We’d all agreed this was a good point to wrap up the game. I got into my Camaro and drove to the apartment complex. It was lucky I left when I did, because by the time I pulled into the parking lot, the wind and rain had become so heavy I could barely see my hand in front of my face.
When I opened the door to my duplex and stepped inside, I put my wet coat on the hanger. The house was quiet. No Tasha watching The Lion King on VHS for the thirtieth time. No Rashida screaming at her to go to bed. Just an empty apartment, all to myself.
I removed the game from my pocket and looked at it. I needed a distraction. Something to keep my attention away from what I had lost.
I went to your bedroom on the second floor. It had been mostly cleaned out, except for the video games. I’d have happily let you keep them, but your mother thought they were a bad influence and not something a high-school girl should waste her time with. I brought your Super NES downstairs to the study, set it on the desk, and plugged it into my old Commodore 64’s 1702 video monitor.
Facing the desk was a poster of some blueish-green guitar-playing dinosaur wearing purple shades from one of your cartoons. Something something The Last Dinosaur, I think. On the desk next to the TV sat a Windows 98 notebook computer I’d picked up from a flea market a month back. I planned on giving it to you for your birthday. You’d been asking for your own computer for years, and I’d saved up enough to buy one. That was before the divorce, however.
I hooked up the SNES and put the cartridge into the slot. It seemed like a normal video-game to me. Once I started a new game, it asked me for my name. I wrote “ASSHOLE” in all caps, because that’s the sort of childish thing I normally do in these sorts of games. Using joke names can inject humor into otherwise tedious dialog cutscenes. You always found it funny. In hindsight, I really shouldn’t have done that. I tapped the start button on the SNES controller.
Looking back, I’m still not certain what happened after that. One moment I was sitting at the desk, playing the game, and the next moment, I was trapped in a dark place, my body constrained so tightly, I couldn’t breathe! I panicked, but after a moment, I was able to break free. I’d been trapped in a light layer of what seemed to be clay. Fragments littered the ground around the pillar on which I stood. My Windows 98 laptop lay open on the ground next to me.
I stood in a large chamber brightly lit by torches placed along the walls and pillars throughout the room. In the center of the room sat what looked like a stone altar. Standing before the altar was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her long yellow hair was parted on the side, and she wore a long white gown with cuts on either side. She turned her face to me, and I saw her lovely blue eyes for the first time. I was smitten. I admit it.
She stepped toward me, her feet bare. That’s when I saw her ears. They were pointed, like the ears of a Vulcan from Star Trek.
“Where am I?” I asked.
She bowed her head. “I’m so glad you’re finally here ASSHOLE. We’ve waited for so long. Welcome to the world of Etheria.”
I paused, “I’m sorry, what did you call me?”
“ASSHOLE. It’s your name, isn’t it? Or should I have called you Sir ASSHOLE? I’m so sorry, Player. Please, you must rebuke me for my insolence.”
I thought for a second, before trying again, “My name’s Jak, not asshole. What is…Etheria?”
She hesitated, “Jak? Oh, dear. But your scan information says ‘ASSHOLE’. I’m so confused. Perhaps ASSHOLE is your surname. I’m afraid I don’t know much of the ways and traditions of Players. It’s been so long since one of your kind has visited.”
She shook her head. “But to answer your question, Etheria is the name of our world. We’re in dire need of a hero. A fiendish woman named Tiamat, who calls herself the Lich Queen, rules over humanity, tearing children from their mother’s arms and draining them of their lifeforce. They say Tiamat is thousands of years old, one of the first beings to step foot on Etheria, older even than the elves. She possesses an artifact known as the Orb of Death which gives her the terrifying power to drain the life from her enemies. She dwells in the human realm of Southland, but we know that she won’t stop with humanity.”
“You’re not human, are you? Are you vulcan?”
She squinted. “I know not that race. As you see, I’m a high elf. My name is Ceridwen, and I’m a priestess of the goddess Catalyst. Unless you object, I’m your guide to this world. I’m at your service, Jak.”
She was an elf, like from Tolkien or D&D! Of course she was, that just made so much more sense than thinking she was a character from Star Trek. My brain must have been running slow on account of having been teleported into what I now know was a video game.
She helped me climb down from the pedestal I’d been standing on. “I’ve prayed every day a Player would be sent to save us before the Lich Queen turns her eyes on my people. Will you help us?”
I was so dazed, I merely nodded. Her absurdly intense beauty had numbed my brain. At that moment she could have asked me for anything, and I would have said yes. I agreed to track down this Lich Queen person and find a way to stop her.
Once I got over the shock of being in another world, Ceridwen taught me how to open and use my menu, as well as the basics of stat points. If the Dragon Warrior and Zelda stat systems had a baby, it would resemble something similar to Etheria’s stat system. My highest stat was charisma with 11 points, and my lowest was dexterity at only 5. The name of my class was “Gambler”. For a swords and sorcery setting, that seemed an odd choice.
Ceridwen explained that I’d been summoned to the Temple of the Player by a goddess named Catalyst. Filled with monsters, the temple served as a tutorial for new Players and offered a chance to gain experience and levels.
I solved a ridiculously easy box puzzle before moving to a room filled with various weapons. Ceridwen said I could pick any as my starting weapon. There was a gun of Southland construction, which seemed an obvious choice. Before I chose it, however, a small deck of cards, sitting on a shelf next to what looked like a bladed hula hoop, caught my eye. The cards were stored in a small box which also contained a set of dice of various sizes with unfamiliar symbols on each of their faces.
It wasn’t obvious to me how a deck of cards would serve as any kind of weapon, but Ceridwen was there to explain it to me.
When combat starts, the deck automatically draws five cards which float in the air facing the user. The red suits, heart and diamond, are defensive while the black suits, spade and clubs, deal direct combat damage. The hearts and spades deal or absorb magic damage, while diamonds and clubs deal or absorb physical damage. The number on each card decides how much damage each card is able to inflict or protect against. If I were to draw the joker, a random event would happen decided by a roll of the dice, which could work either against me or in my favor. Every five seconds, another card would automatically be drawn from the deck into my hand for up to a maximum hand of five cards.
In the next room, I faced a pair of creatures called Boblins, which gave me an opportunity to put her instructions into practice. They looked alien, like creatures from a fantasy novel. One dashed at me, brandishing a knife. I nearly froze, but kept my wits about me. Before the monster reached me, I played a six of diamonds. The card flew into the air, meeting the Boblin’s knife and knocking it away. The card itself split in two, reforming as it shuffled back into my deck.
I played a two of spades and an ace of clubs in rapid succession. The two of spades card turned into some kind of metal and began to spin through the air, slicing into the nearest boblin and removing one of the hearts that hovered above it. The ace of clubs burst into flames, slamming into the same boblin which died, exploding into a purple cloud.
Gradually, cards filtered into my hand from my deck. I was dealt the joker, but I dared not play it. I quickly defeated the second boblin, which dropped a small capsule containing tacos, of all things.
I spent the rest of the day exploring the upper levels, killing monsters and gaining experience. Every time I took damage, Ceredwin healed me, as she was a level 7 cleric who specialized in the healing arts.
By the end of the first day, we’d cleared the entire top level of the temple. We could have moved to the bottom level, but Ceredwin insisted I not pass up the opportunity to gain as much experience as possible. When the fighting was over, I’d reached level 3 and Ceridwen had made it to level 8.
During my investigation of the temple, I discovered a cage, inside which was what I recognized ass a velociraptor—a kind of dinosaur from the Jurassic Park movie. Ceridwen explained that velociraptors were friendly domestic animals who could be ridden. The cage was for its own safety, to protect it against the various monsters that spawned during the Player’s tutorial.
I released the velociraptor from the cage and gave him the name “Shadowfax”. Don’t judge me.
Slowly, I grew more and more acclimated to my new situation. I would have had a much harder time of it without Ceridwen.
After a full day of fighting, using the playing cards had become second nature. There was a strong element of both strategy and chance to using them.
When Ceridwen suggested we make camp for the night, we had a light taco dinner that evening. The bathrooms of this world were a mystery to me at first. It was just a clear basin with no obvious means to operate it or dispose of waste. Not wanting to embarrass myself by asking Ceridwen about it, I stared at the strange contraption for nearly five minutes. Once I noticed the rubber chipmunk along the side of the basin, everything about it made sense.
She used something called a portable campground to keep us safe that night. We each slept in our own bedroll under the stars in the overlook. We spent hours just talking. I told her about what life was like in my world, and she told me about the wonder and magic of Etheria.
It might be my imagination, or maybe elven mannerisms are different from those of humans, but I’ve been getting strong hints that she’s interested in me. I’m not sure whether to reciprocate. The truth is, I still love Rashida, and Ceridwen deserves better than to be someone’s rebound.
After she fell asleep, I removed my laptop from my inventory to type this letter to you. I wish you could see this world. I know you’d love it. I’ll be sure to write to you again tomorrow.
Day 2
Ceridwen hates me. She won’t even talk to me. I mean, after what happened, I don’t blame her. I really screwed this one up big time.
Let me start at the beginning. We cleared the bottom floor and I found a library where she taught me how to write spells. It’s too much like computer programming, which I’ve never had a taste for. But copying the spells one line at a time from a spellbook is better, if tedious.
When we reached the boss room, I’d attained level 5 and got her to level 9. The boss monster was kind of a hand thing that moved in repeating patterns. It didn’t take any damage, except for moments at a time and only on specific parts of its body.
Uncertain how to win the battle, I thought back to how I’ve defeated bosses in some of the action RPGs that I’ve played. There were four pillars in the combat area, so naturally, I had the brilliant idea to entice the boss to attack the pillars, knocking them to the ground. My reasoning is that it worked in video games, so why wouldn’t it work in this situation?
It turned out that those were load-bearing pillars. When the boss destroyed them, the ceiling caved in, bringing the entire building down with it. I had single-handedly destroyed The Temple of the Player.
I tried to explain that it was an accident, but she won’t even look at me. She seems to be leading me northward, so I’ll just try to keep up until she decides to start talking to me again. She’s driving us at a heck of a pace, so I may have no time to write tomorrow.
Day 4
Early this morning, we arrived at an elven outpost called Bray. Ceridwen and I are on speaking terms again. It might have something to do with the fact that I’ve been able to bring her up to level 10 thanks to my Fast Leveling skill. Or it could be because I apologized nonstop for two days.
Her demeanor has changed completely. I think she was as tired of her being angry as I was.
We went shopping, picked up some foodstuffs, health potions, and I bought her a new mage staff as a peace offering.
There was an armorer in town. The proprietor, an elven man named Ramon, tried to sell me chainmail speedos. All his armor was too open-air for my taste. Sorry if I’ve traumatized you with the idea of dear-old-dad wearing chainmail speedos.
Tasha, if you ever make it to Etheria, I beg you not to purchase any armor at this place. Their female armor looks more like lingerie than anything that would offer proper defense. Ah, who am I kidding? I’ve never been able to stop you from doing what you want before.
Anyway, I decided to stick with the jeans and tie dye t-shirt that I was wearing when I arrived in Etheria. I did purchase a leather jacket at the clothier.
On foot, we left late afternoon toward Brightwind, the castle of King Lakuriel Questgiver. Now that Ceridwen and I were speaking again, she explained it was our destination, and that I was to meet with the king to discuss the Lich Queen situation.
I wanted to hire a caravan to take us the rest of the way to Brightwind castle, but Ceridwen nixed the idea. She said I needed to be more careful with my money. Since we’d only recently gotten over our last fight, I wasn’t inclined to start a new one about money.
It was so good to hear the sound of her voice again. My earlier thoughts about there being some kind of romantic spark between us might have been an idle fantasy, but I’m glad to have someone friendly to talk with.
Day 7
After experimenting with my menu system, I figured out I could pause the game and return to the real world. Time passes at different rates between Etheria and the real world. I’ve been in Etheria for over a week, but it’s only been a few hours on Earth. I’ll have to make a habit of logging off every week or so to take care of my real world body.
Interestingly, a few of the abilities that I’ve picked up in the Gambler class have made the journey with me to the real world. The ability to detect tells or calculate probabilities in my head, for example. That alone should improve my poker skills.
I didn’t want to spend too much time in the real world. It’s not like I’m on a timer, but the game calls to me. After work, I eagerly unpaused the game and returned to Etheria. From now on, I’ll be returning to the real world periodically.
Day 11
Today I met a slave trader along the road. Apparently, slaves are a thing in Etheria. No, they don’t call it that. They call them indentured servants, they don’t use the word “slave”. A human parent will sell an unwanted child into indentured servitude. Slave traders, like this one, would raise the child to adulthood before selling their contract. The slave owners, usually elves or other non-humans, would charge their servants fees for food and lodging in such a way that they would never be able to pay off their own contracts.
To say this made me angry is to understate my feelings. Ceridwen must have picked up on my attitude because she tried to lead me away. The slave trader had three humans in stock, a fully grown woman and two older boys. I swallowed back my fury and put on my best poker face.
After negotiating with the slave trader, I purchased the contract of the least expensive human. It cost every bit of GP I’d saved to that moment. Ceridwen tried to talk me out of it, told me that I was wasting my money. I know it was a foolish decision, but this wasn’t the sort of thing that a man can just walk away from.
The slave trader had armed guards, so I wouldn’t have been able to take his slaves by force. Even if I had used force, they would have labeled me the bad guy.
I fully expected Ceridwen to get angry again. I’d ignored what was probably good advice. Instead, she merely sighed in resignation.
Once we were out of earshot of the slave trader, I turned to the human, who wore nothing but simple grey rags. He had poorly-cut black hair and brown eyes.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
He looked at me, but wouldn’t meet my eyes. “People call me Franklin, master. My full name is Franklin Zhakara.”
“Don’t call me that,” I said. “I’m nobody’s master. I bought your contract to set you free.”
I scribbled my name on the contract, indicating his debt had been paid, and handed it to him.
He stared at it in apparent shock. “Why would you do that? I don’t know you. You don’t owe me anything.”
I looked away, uncertain how to respond. “There is nothing in the world more important than freedom. Slavery is an atrocity, and one I’ll have no part of.”
“Th.. thank you ASSHOLE. I’ll never forget this.”
“My name isn’t asshole.” I half-smiled and half-groaned. “It’s Jak. Please just… ignore what my scan data says.”
He shrugged and smiled. “Okay, Jak.”
Ceridwen put her hand on my shoulder and turned to the boy., “Franklin, do you have somewhere to go? If not, you can stay with us. We’re traveling westward to Brightwind castle.”
Franklin’s eyes lit up. He agreed, and we spent the rest of the day walking alongside the road. We stayed far enough from it that monsters still spawned, allowing us to gain XP and level up.
When we were alone later that night gathered around a campfire, I spoke to her.
“Are you angry at me for spending all my GP?”
She shook her head. “I’m not angry. I’m quite happy you bought the boy’s contract.”
I was confused. “Why? You tried to talk me out of it. I could tell you didn’t want me to waste my money like that.”
She remained silent as we stared into the fire. “The day after I met you, you destroyed the Temple of the Player. I thought you must be some sort of monster, full of destructive rage and cruelty. That’s how most elves think about humans, you know. Humanity never tires of war. We tell ourselves that keeping them as servants is something we do for their own good. When you destroyed the temple, I thought it was a validation of everything I’d been taught. You destroyed the temple I’d worshipped at for the last 240 years. I’d just started to like you, and I saw that as a betrayal of the person I thought you were.
