"Welcome to Aievell."
Blue skies greeted Riske, endless and wide, as a cheerful female voice greeted him gleefully. A strong wind buffeted him from behind, and the grass at his feet, undulating into the distance, rippled with the breeze.
Riske had entered the open beta of Aievell, a critically acclaimed VR game, which was lauded for its more realistic playstyle, and its beautiful landscapes and features. It was a fresh breeze for the VRMMO industry, with its unique structures which had the history of the land tied into them, one of the groundbreaking innovations which separated it from the rest of the world's VRs. Gone was the day where every city had almost identical Training Centres, Marketplaces, and Plazas. Now everything was unique, crafted with heritage, as well as a million more factors, modifying everything.
He was in the character development window, which in itself was innovative and fresh. Instead of the pure darkness, or room of light most other VRs featured, this one featured a time-lapse of the world, from the beginning of time. Civilisations rose and fell like sandcastles, under waves of time and age. After five seconds had passed, the world slowed to its current speed, but he could still see the machinations of life, within cities, and outside.
"Please choose your looks."
"As I am."
Riske had always stuck to his own looks for VRMMOs, because the discord he felt when looking into a mirror and seeing a stranger's face was unbearable for him.
The hologram of a 15 year old boy, taller than he should be, but lankier than he should be, appeared before Riske. The hologram was composed, but he gave off the vibe of being friendly and approachable. The hologram raised an arm, bowing in a way Riske himself never could, and spoke in a relaxed, mature voice - it was his voice, but it wasn’t.
Riske found it slightly disturbing, watching with morbid curiosity as his own clone bowed at him, intoning “How are you today, milord? Please choose your history.”
Then, a stone plinth rose from the ground, a ring of grey, inscribed with two words, Peasant, and Nobleman. Peasant was written in humble, bold script, blocky and huge, while Nobleman seemed to have been written by someone who stuck his little finger out for just about every movement he made.
The ring turned slowly, and when Peasant faced Riske, his holographic image was dressed in cotton, woven coarsely, accompanied with a pair of thick soled leather boots. Chaps and a straw hat completed the image of a farmer, a stone slab then rose from the ground beside his image, with words written down the side, cut into the stone.
Peasant.
Having worked the fields all your life, you have a considerable amount of muscle and agility, but your intelligence is… questionable, to say the least. With roots in the land, you have strong camaraderie with the men of the field, but be wary. Those on high, who sit in the company of the King himself, will spit on you.
Str +5
Agi +5
Relationship with Peasants +5
Relationship with Noblemen -3
Perks:
Upheaving Strength - You gain strength 20% faster, and can use Strength-based weapons with a 10% level reduction in requirement.
Hands of the Land - Your hands are weathered and worn from labour, and are callused and hardened. You will feel less pain on your hands.
The stone circle below his hologram turned slowly, revealing another word - Nobleman.
Nobleman.
Born in a marble palace, with a silver spoon in your mouth, you have been brought up to be smart, and wise, but you are only strong enough to lift a silver spoon to your mouth. With your upbringing in high society, you will have contacts and friends within nobility. Things, however, are not as simple between you and the lower castes. Beware their actions, for they are scheming.
Int +5
Wis +5
Relationship with Noblemen +5
Relationship with Peasants -3
Perks:
Family Grant - you get 10 gold coins every week from your family from your inheritance, for food and equipment.
Noble Lineage - With the backing of your family, and your bloodline, you can exert your will on others with your family crest.
Riske looked at both the choices. He had intended to choose a melee type warrior, because he had chose magic using spellcasters and magi in his past few VRMMOs. They were safe and conservative, but a fifteen year old boy like him really wanted to clash swords, and experience the warrior spirit, at least once in his life.
The choice was obvious. Warriors couldn’t be people who could only lift a spoon. There was no secret class, there was no hidden skill, that converted intelligence into strength, or vice versa. Such a skill would be game breaking, destroying the mechanics of the game.
“I want to be a Peasant.”
“Understood.” His hologram smiled at him.
“Welcome to Aievell. We hope you have a good time.”
“Wait what? No name select? Nothing?”
The hologram moved, hugging him, and Riske could feel the almost human like warmth, emanating from the flickering figure. His eyes were obscured by two hands, the same as his, and when the hands were removed, he was deposited right at the doorsteps of a large, forbidding building.
Blue skies greeted Riske, endless and wide, as a cheerful female voice greeted him gleefully. A strong wind buffeted him from behind, and the grass at his feet, undulating into the distance, rippled with the breeze.
Riske had entered the open beta of Aievell, a critically acclaimed VR game, which was lauded for its more realistic playstyle, and its beautiful landscapes and features. It was a fresh breeze for the VRMMO industry, with its unique structures which had the history of the land tied into them, one of the groundbreaking innovations which separated it from the rest of the world's VRs. Gone was the day where every city had almost identical Training Centres, Marketplaces, and Plazas. Now everything was unique, crafted with heritage, as well as a million more factors, modifying everything.
He was in the character development window, which in itself was innovative and fresh. Instead of the pure darkness, or room of light most other VRs featured, this one featured a time-lapse of the world, from the beginning of time. Civilisations rose and fell like sandcastles, under waves of time and age. After five seconds had passed, the world slowed to its current speed, but he could still see the machinations of life, within cities, and outside.
"Please choose your looks."
"As I am."
Riske had always stuck to his own looks for VRMMOs, because the discord he felt when looking into a mirror and seeing a stranger's face was unbearable for him.
The hologram of a 15 year old boy, taller than he should be, but lankier than he should be, appeared before Riske. The hologram was composed, but he gave off the vibe of being friendly and approachable. The hologram raised an arm, bowing in a way Riske himself never could, and spoke in a relaxed, mature voice - it was his voice, but it wasn’t.
Riske found it slightly disturbing, watching with morbid curiosity as his own clone bowed at him, intoning “How are you today, milord? Please choose your history.”
Then, a stone plinth rose from the ground, a ring of grey, inscribed with two words, Peasant, and Nobleman. Peasant was written in humble, bold script, blocky and huge, while Nobleman seemed to have been written by someone who stuck his little finger out for just about every movement he made.
The ring turned slowly, and when Peasant faced Riske, his holographic image was dressed in cotton, woven coarsely, accompanied with a pair of thick soled leather boots. Chaps and a straw hat completed the image of a farmer, a stone slab then rose from the ground beside his image, with words written down the side, cut into the stone.
Peasant.
Having worked the fields all your life, you have a considerable amount of muscle and agility, but your intelligence is… questionable, to say the least. With roots in the land, you have strong camaraderie with the men of the field, but be wary. Those on high, who sit in the company of the King himself, will spit on you.
Str +5
Agi +5
Relationship with Peasants +5
Relationship with Noblemen -3
Perks:
Upheaving Strength - You gain strength 20% faster, and can use Strength-based weapons with a 10% level reduction in requirement.
Hands of the Land - Your hands are weathered and worn from labour, and are callused and hardened. You will feel less pain on your hands.
The stone circle below his hologram turned slowly, revealing another word - Nobleman.
Nobleman.
Born in a marble palace, with a silver spoon in your mouth, you have been brought up to be smart, and wise, but you are only strong enough to lift a silver spoon to your mouth. With your upbringing in high society, you will have contacts and friends within nobility. Things, however, are not as simple between you and the lower castes. Beware their actions, for they are scheming.
Int +5
Wis +5
Relationship with Noblemen +5
Relationship with Peasants -3
Perks:
Family Grant - you get 10 gold coins every week from your family from your inheritance, for food and equipment.
Noble Lineage - With the backing of your family, and your bloodline, you can exert your will on others with your family crest.
Riske looked at both the choices. He had intended to choose a melee type warrior, because he had chose magic using spellcasters and magi in his past few VRMMOs. They were safe and conservative, but a fifteen year old boy like him really wanted to clash swords, and experience the warrior spirit, at least once in his life.
The choice was obvious. Warriors couldn’t be people who could only lift a spoon. There was no secret class, there was no hidden skill, that converted intelligence into strength, or vice versa. Such a skill would be game breaking, destroying the mechanics of the game.
“I want to be a Peasant.”
“Understood.” His hologram smiled at him.
“Welcome to Aievell. We hope you have a good time.”
“Wait what? No name select? Nothing?”
The hologram moved, hugging him, and Riske could feel the almost human like warmth, emanating from the flickering figure. His eyes were obscured by two hands, the same as his, and when the hands were removed, he was deposited right at the doorsteps of a large, forbidding building.