Chapter 002 Night in the Hall

[The Beast

(Note on sourcing: The Beast Nature listed above was posted two weeks after the estimated first day Kaiser played, well before any inkling of who or what he'd become inspired numerous others to try and recreate his potential Nature. It also matches, to the best of our knowledge, the information revealed in the Chronicler's revelatory work 'The Beast' and the further adaptations of in games, movies, and written form. 

A measure of caution, however, must be taken when claiming it is Kaiser's Nature. Natures based around animals are hardly rare, particularly for those who wish to play as beast-kin. Even more common are generic Natures which allow a diverse skill set. There were dozens posted before this one, and tens of thousands after. This Nature should only be taken as a representative of what could be his Nature.

As ever, Kaiser's secrets remain just beyond our reach.)

******

"Your turn, Greck," Polo said as he staggered back toward the bench, panting all the way.

The orc grunted in acknowledgement, setting down his catalogue of edible plants as he rose to his feet to make his way to the start of the obstacle course with a lot less reluctance than Polo had.

"Sometimes I wonder if I should get a race change," Polo sighed in relief as he took Greck's seat beside Neron. He began rubbing his swollen ankle. "I know it reduces the effectiveness of the pod's exercise, but it'd be worth it just to have the longer reach. And a stronger body. And height."

Neron knew better than to ask for the layout of today's course. So, he played along with his fellow player.

"The orc Pool is on the other side of the continent. Or do you want to be an elf? I do not think that will help much… Or fit you. " Neron said rhetorically, pointing out the flaw in the plan. "Besides, you've already put on a bit of muscle. No point ruining your hard work mid-way through."

His compliment had the desired effect and the slightly chubby man smiled in pride.

A light jab in jest to prove you weren't being obsequious followed by a genuine compliment about a point of concern. A classic to foster feelings of comradery and friendship.

"The wife certainly isn't complaining," Polo laughed lightly, patting his stomach. It had reduced in the weeks they’d been with the Hall, but only slightly. Then he winced and rubbed his thigh. "I don't deny the health benefits of the pods, but did they have to set the pain reduction minimum to ninety nine percent? Why not one hundred?"

"I'm just glad it doesn't transfer anything but muscle fatigue," Ingrid sighed, continuing her stretches to wind down for the night. "When I first tried to learn to fight, I started punching trees. Messed my hand up real bad."

"Some of us aren't wearing different bodies we can just leave whenever we feel like," Fallon grumbled as he gave a playful glare at the players.

He was holding a hand to his forehead, the minor ice magic causing the air to fog around it. There was no heat in his words or glare, but it was best to nip that potential in the bud anyway. Having resources among the natives was just as important as having friendly relations with players. Sometimes even more so.

"And some of us have not had years to learn basic spells to deal with our bruises and headaches," Neron glared back with just the right amount of jealousy.

Make someone feel superior and they will be more likely to look on their 'lessors' favorably.

Fallon chuckled, then winced as he moved his cooling hand to lower on his head.

Neron internally confirmed his read on the man. Backing down would have been taken as weakness. He'd have to check later to see how Fallon responded to an actual challenge before he was completely confident on his mental profile.

"Anyone know where I can get those spells?" Ingrid asked, looking from Fallon to the rest of them. Most of them shrugged. It wasn't that they didn't know about other training Halls, even those dedicated to magic, but rather she was asking for a place to purchase time with the spell crystal formulae themselves.

"We learned in school," Fallon grunted. "Don't know if they'll teach Players."

"They do not. Not for free, at least," Neron said with confidence. When he'd first started playing, schools were his first point of interest. Optim had connections though, so was it worth using them now? "What is your budget?"

"Not bad but not great either," Ingrid sighed, taking a seat on one of the benches. "I was planning on taking the winter course at Riquel’s, but I need them sooner."

"How soon?"

"A few weeks at most. I'm trying to enter one of the larger guilds and they all require proof of mastering the basic spell groups before anyone can apply."

"That's not a lot of time," Polo pointed out doubtfully. "The average is four days per basic spell. And that’s if you have talent. And-and that's if you spend all your time learning. Why the rush?"

Ingrid didn't explain but looked at Neron who had been thinking.

Sensing an opportunity here, he decided to raise his estimation in everyone's eyes.

"Tell you what," he leaned forward with a casual smile. "I think I can get you time with three of the basics." Before she could ask which, he smiled. "If you tell us why you are in a rush. Unless it is personal, of course," He hurried to add at the end, as if only just thinking about it.

He knew a way for her to get exposed to all seven basic spells, but Polo hadn't been wrong about how long it'd take to learn them. Ingrid wasn’t on a retirement cycle and so played God’s Nature after work and during the night. Even if she dedicated the rest of her time in game to learning, the most she'd be able to learn to a manageable degree would be four. Since he had a group of three that could be acquired at once, he'd save the other four for either himself or future favors.

"Which three?" She asked after a moment of thought. "And how much would it cost?"

"Scab, Spark, and Spring. And it would be a time investment, not coin."

Ingrid gave it some more thought for another moment, but Neron wasn't worried. The only reason she'd pass up on the deal was if she decided the time cost wasn't worth it due to the deadline. Which she wouldn't because, even if it meant time was lost, she didn't really have too much of an option.

The spells were not rare. In fact, they were the seven basic spells because it was easy to inscribe them for practice on any old piece of geesium of sufficient size and clarity. But there was always more demand than supply due to new players like Ingrid so time with training tools usually cost more coin than most had at the beginning.

He could practically hear her thoughts. With those three, she could use what money she had to reserve time with the other four at an actual spell Hall.

"Alright," she eventually nodded, and everyone leaned in to hear what she had to say. "You didn't hear this from me, but a bunch of guilds will be coming to the city in a month. Including four of the top five."

That got raised eyebrows all around.

"How come?" Fallon asked, a note of worry in his voice.

Neron didn’t need to guess why.

He, a Calderinian, had been aware of players for less than four years. Unlike Leidon, they still hadn’t had time to fully adapt. There’d been a rush of players when the city state was first rediscovered, on top of newer players like Neron starting there, but it remained much less popular than the starting city, even now.

Neron had discreetly inquired with Optim on her views of players, then confirmed it with a few other sources. Largely positive, but with a note of wariness was the general consensus. Natives had become very sensitive to player movement since they started appearing. Particularly since their numbers had started to really increase in the last year or so.

There were a lot of reasons, from vigilance against foreign people, to admiration for this 'other world' and a desire to cooperate with them. Players had already radically changed their world. The monetary system. The training Halls. The guilds. The connection of Calderine to Leidon.

Here, in Calderine, they were particularly sensitive. The city had only been 'discovered' in the last three years and, with it becoming a starting location for new players, had been facing radical changes in a very short time frame.

It couldn’t even outmuscle players like Leidon had been able to do in the early days because any player in the city that hadn’t started there was guaranteed to be of level equal to or exceeding the average guard.

At the forefront of those changes were the guilds.

"It's because of El Dorado," Polo guessed, eyes wide and smile wider.

Ingrid nodded.

Polo practically vibrated in excitement.

"El Dorado?" Neron asked. The mythical city of gold based on Spanish conquistador misunderstanding?

That got him odd looks from Ingrid and Polo but Fallon, at least, was just as confused as him.

"You don't watch streams, do you?" Polo asked rhetorically. Neron shook his head anyway. "You know the Westward Path?"

"That I do know. It is the route from here to Leidon that players took to discover this city."

"A lot of the guilds are focusing their explorations along the Westward Path," Ingrid explained. "A year ago, a few of them found a ruined and abandoned city in the Crags, north of the path. After the joint exploration was finished, the Bank, which had been the ones to discover it, bought out the other guilds for ownership. They plan on setting up a midway city there."

"A player-run city," Polo said eagerly. "Along what might as well be a new silk road! Anyone with half a brain knows money's gonna flow like water."

"And you want to be a merchant," Fallon nodded in understanding, moving his chilled palm to a bruise on his arm. Apparently, Scab didn’t help much with muscle issues so Sleet was the go to option when greater healing was not available or cost effective.

"Technically the city hasn't been established yet and doesn't have a name," Ingrid pointed out. "But people started calling it El Dorado because, you know," Ingrid shrugged helplessly. "The Banker."

""The Banker."" Polo and Fallon repeated as one, the former in almost reverent awe and the latter with a note of resentment.

Even Neron had heard of the player who led the largest 'guild' and had been the foundation for the monetary system players used.

Polo’s odd tone got a look though.

"I created my character in Calderine because El Dorado is closer to it than Leidon. Hundreds of other players did the same," Polo sighed in regret as he continued to explain to Neron. "The only reason I'm not with every other merchant on the road is because I want to actually be able to survive if something happens to the caravan I want to establish."

"Ha! That why the Sanctuary is so full these days?" Fallon grunted out a laugh. "Idiots, the lot of them."

"One of the reasons everyone is coming here," Ingrid nodded. "The Bank wants a safer road, so they need people, but they are unwilling to lower their standards. The other guilds want a slice of the pie. The kingdom wants influence. And taxes. Everyone will be on a hiring spree to meet that need. If I can meet the minimum requirements, I can get in with the Troubadoors, the Tower, or Tengen, if I'm lucky."

"So Banukeita isn't coming?" Polo asked.

"They're grouping up in Leidon," Ingrid agreed. "My cousin tells me they're planning their own expedition. Says it’s gonna be huge. He's a squad leader and the one who told me of this opportunity."

"Why go through all this effort?" Neron asked, probing if he should also invest time in trying to join one. "Why not join a local guild?"

"Resources."

"Safety."

"Opportunity."

Three simultaneous answers from not just Ingrid but also Fallon and Polo. They looked at each other for a moment before Ingrid continued.

"Every member gets access to not only basic equipment, but also connections to crafters and trainers. You get a network of information on the best places to level, insider knowledge on techniques and skills, and even access to Rebirth Pools if you want, some of which aren't available to the public. Working together with a guild will speed up leveling and make you a better fighter. Almost all high-level players are part of one."

So, it was a communal advancement sort of system, where existing infrastructure and communal pooling of resources created a greater sum than the individual parts.

But what were the drawbacks?

Neron was about to ask that when Greck came limping back. Which wasn’t good. Anything that could make Greck limp was bad news.

"Neron."

Neron rose to take his turn on the course but before he did so he held up his end of the deal.

"You know the clock tower in the southeast plaza? The one with the red windows?" Ingrid nodded. "Facing it, take the second street on the right. Two blocks down and another right and you will see a tannery, Taftil's. If you apply for work there, you can ask to be paid in time with the three crystals he has set up in the back."

"Thanks."

Neron nodded and smiled as he walked over to the start of the course.

What he didn't tell her was that it wouldn't be pleasant work. Tanning hides was some truly awful business in medieval society, even one with magic. He'd be surprised if she didn't smell of urine next time he saw her.

Still, he could tell Optim he had helped her friend find a worker for the fall season, which he could translate into asking her if she knew any other way to get access to those spell crystals. Neron got the feeling the opportunities to get them would be even rarer in the coming weeks. He could either use them himself or trade them for more favors later.

He didn't let the smile fall as he neared the instructor and even gave the man a cordial nod as well.

All the instructors were former adventurers, soldiers, and mercenaries, which meant they were hardy men and women. More than that, they were established in Calderine. There were very few opportunities or services that Neron, who'd only been playing for a bit over a month, could provide to get into their good graces that they couldn’t do for themselves, so a good attitude was the best way to ingratiate himself.

"Hey Clarence," he greeted. "How did things go with Sevron?"

That didn't mean there were no opportunities, just that it had to target an area they would be hesitant to address themselves.

"Great," the middle-aged man's smile was small but genuine. He didn't say more on the subject, but Neron didn't expect him to. He didn't really care how it went, it was just a subtle way to remind him of the favor. "Ready for your go?"

"Depends," Neron said with a chuckle, doing a few light stretches to limber up from the short break he'd had since their exercises. "Who is running it tonight?"

"Badul."

"No wonder everyone is injured," Neron said, letting out a small whistle in appreciation.

The Hall had a need to test their ability to adapt to different physical tasks and challenges. Baring a visit to a dungeon near the end of the season, the course was the method the trainers tested them with.

Strictly speaking, he shouldn't know which instructor was operating the obstacle course, as it was supposed to be a holistic test of the lessons they'd learned.

After the first time he'd tried the course, however, Neron had set about uncovering as much information he could. The better he did as a trainee, the better treatment he'd receive, which led to him advancing faster than the others. There was no physical reward for getting ‘first’ in this Hall, beyond bragging rights, but a better impression on the trainers opened more doors depending on what he wanted to do later.

And it was paying off.

"On three," Clarence said, holding up his hand, thumb and middle finger pressed together.

"I am ready," Neron said, getting into a runner's position facing the gate of the obstacle course.

"One. Two. Three!"

Clarence snapped his fingers and a sound like a gunshot rang out as Neron ran past the gate.

Neron didn't take any precautions as he sprinted through a long corridor of wooden walls, unmindful of anything but getting the best head start.

Of the handful of trainers, Badul wasn't the worst one to operate the course, Illien was. The dwarf, however, was the trickiest. He liked to use psychology and mind games to ensure that nobody got past his courses without a mark of his lessons.

Last week, it had been a hallway filled with traps from the get-go. There was a possibility of him doing the same thing again, but Neron doubted it. Greck, despite being the physically fittest of the trainees, was the worst at handling surprises. Despite taking a long time, he'd only emerged with a small limp.

So, knowing what he did of Badul, Neron estimated that he'd set up a similar corridor without any traps just to mess with the trainee's minds and slow them down.

He kept his eyes peeled just in case he was wrong, but he wasn’t and made a complete circumference of the course without a single incident, reaching a doorway leading deeper in. From here, his knowledge would be of only limited use, as the course could vary wildly between runs thanks to magic shifting it around.

Neron emerged from the tunnel on a right turn, immediately noticing the puppet lumbering its way toward him from the other side of a narrow room. Shaped like a large bear made of wood and animated by the instructor's magic, it was a hulking beast that had been a rude surprise the first time he had seen it.

On the other side of the puppet, an open doorway beckoned to the next room of the course.

This was an introductory training hall, one focused on survival more than combat. The obstacle course, laid out in a spiraling pattern, was testing them on their speed and ability to navigate situations without injury. 

Fighting the puppet, had it even been possible for weaklings such as the trainees, was not part of the course.

The bear was an obstacle, the same as any other, that needed to be surpassed. Despite that, all the trainees fell to the bear the first time they faced it. Something to run from, not fight. And even then, you probably still needed healing by the end.

Neron had been one of the few who hadn't died, but he'd still had a leg broken by one of its massive wooden paws on his first attempt at the course and was justifiably cautious now.

Placing the bear puppet, possibly the greatest obstacle the course had, right after an empty corridor...

The empty doorway beckoned, and Neron mentally increased his estimation of Badul’s grasp of psychology.

The bear lumbered forward at its steady pace, each step leaving a deep furrow in the sand that covered the hard stone of the training yard.

Neron backed up slightly till he was at the doorway of the tunnel, giving himself more time to think and survey the room. A risk, as the bear was slightly larger than the frame and if Neron ended up trapped, he'd fail today's course.

The puppet was only two meters away.

Neron didn't see anything else in the room that could be a Badul trick, so he made the decision to advance.

With a push off the ground, he ran directly to the bear. Usually, the method to avoid the puppet was to lead it around until you could get behind it, but this room was too narrow for such a tactic. Even if the construct was slow, its arms could move faster than expected.

Perhaps, had Neron kept his momentum from the dash earlier, he could have slid under the puppet's bulk. The sand wasn't the best for such a tactic, but Ingrid claimed to have done it once. Without her nimbleness or the ability to jump over the creature, Neron had to improvise.

So, he ran right at the bear puppet's face.

And stopped.

The puppet took another step forward and Neron wet his dry lips, breath coming slightly heavily from the run. He'd been in better shape than Polo when he'd started playing God's Nature thanks to years of labor but lifting desks and chairs and a few weeks in the pod did not make him an athlete.

The bear stopped, Neron held his breath as the puppet rose on its hind legs, both arms raised above itself to come down and squish him flat. It, already being eye level with him and Greck while on all fours, now towered over him. Staring up at the creation that he knew from experience weighed at least a ton, Neron followed his plan.

Neron took two steps back.

The bear slammed forward, its crushing weight sending up a small wave of sand with its crashing.

Neron, as soon as gravity had started taking the bear down, rushed to the right of the puppet, and was at its shoulder when the paws landed.

Then he passed the construct, running as fast as he could toward the empty doorway.

He was through, into the next room, and staring at a balance beam stretched over a shallow pit filled with oil. Only coming up to his ankles, it'd still slow him down considerably. Above the balance beam, large logs swung on thick ropes, ready to knock anyone into the trap below.

Neron studied the room for a second, trying to discover what trick Badul was pulling here. This room was a generic part of the course, testing not only balance but also patience. And Badul did not do anything generic.

Still unable to notice anything out of the ordinary, Neron was about to take his first step on the balance beam when he heard a sound behind him.

Shooting a look over his shoulder, he noticed the bear puppet, never dexterous on the best of days, had finally managed to turn around in the narrow room. It was heading towards him.

Which was odd, because usually the instructors ceased operating rooms once a trainee was past them to focus on upcoming rooms. With limited focus to work with, it was better to direct their Spirit where it was needed than waste it on overcome obstacles.

Neron furrowed his brow, staring at the puppet behind him.

Was it moving... faster?

Then his eyes caught on the seam on the wall.

The entire obstacle course was designed to be a modular construction, each wall, room and piece able to move around like a sliding puzzle. The ropes and logs could be pulled into the ceiling or the balance beam retracted into the floor, for example.

Of these various modifications, having walls of varying sizes and cuts was naturally expected.

Including those that could act as doorways for larger trainees... or bear sized puppets.

"Son of a bitch."

Now aware of the game plan, Neron stopped looking over his shoulder and started making his way across the balance beam.

Ideally, he'd take time to observe the swinging logs and make a relatively quick dash across to time his position with the lull, but he had no confidence that Badul didn't have other tricks ahead or that the bear would stop at the shallow pit. He needed as much head start as he could get.

Two steps along the beam and he stopped to let the first log sling forward. This one was only the size of his arm, and he managed to quickly step passed before it swung back.

The second was significantly thicker, the thickness of his chest. Rather than approach right away, Neron paused for a heartbeat a few steps away until it was on the return swing.

Holding his breath, he released it as he took five quick steps forward, passing right behind the log as it passed.

The momentum did its job and carried him beyond it before its return, but Neron had to windmill his arms to maintain his balance, costing him precious moments.

He stepped past two more thin pendulums, and one more of the thick ones, before he stopped in front of the last obstacle on the beam.

It was obvious that Badul was manually managing the swings by the fact that two of the larger logs were swinging in such a way that when one was over the beam the other was at its apex. They were back-to-back and there was no room for a run up to gain momentum.

Risking a look back, Neron noticed that the bear was already two thirds down its original room.

It was definitely speeding up.

Taking another deep breath to brace himself for what he was about to do, Neron paused.

Then he threw himself forward right as the first log passed.

Without momentum, he had no hope of passing the second log, bigger than he was, that was coming right for him.

So he didn't try to dodge.

As soon as he passed the first pendulum, Neron threw himself from the beam toward the far platform at an angle.

The second log was merciless as it smashed into his side and Neron let out a hiss.

Even with only one percent of the pain, being smashed by a tree trunk did not feel good. That it only clipped him was the only reason he did not break his arm.

Still, the jump did its job and the log only helped send him further.

Neron let out a hiss of pain as he landed, rolling from momentum.

He had no time to evaluate the damage. While his arm wasn't fully shattered, it still stung fiercely, and Neron rose to his feet in a scramble, making a dash through the doorway.

Behind him, he heard the sound of the course rearranging itself as the logs went up into the ceiling and a floor covered the pit. No doubt the bear now had a clear path.

Neron did not. A sheer wall stood before him, twice his height and with only a rope dangling down the middle. The rope didn’t even have knots for him to hold onto.

"I know you're watching," Neron called out, running forward and grabbing the rope with his uninjured arm. "I just want you to know I hate you."

That would tickle Badul's sadism and give him a more favorable impression. Which would be needed if he failed the course.

Neron tried to hoist himself up, but he lost a precious second when his injured arm couldn't exert enough strength to hold his body weight.

Thinking fast, Neron wrapped the cord around his dud arm, placed his feet against the base of the wall, and started to rappel his way up, continuing to wrap the rope around his arm as he went.

Every time he let go of his good hand, he locked his arm in place to brace for a moment to grab higher on the rope. It stung fiercely, but his shoulder still let him lock himself in place long enough that he made it up the wall.

From the top, he found another rope he could use to descend again. If he were Greck, with his inhuman toughness, or Ingrid with her gymnastic experience, he could probably just jump, but the height was just enough that Neron risked landing badly and taking an injury to his legs which he couldn't afford.

Thankfully, the rope wall was a known part of the course and Neron had already expected this.

Loosening a bit of rope from around his bound arm, Neron dropped himself off the top of the wall. It was only a fall of his height, roughly two meters, before he stopped but it jerked his arm, and Neron let out a grunt at the surge of stinging pain.

By that point, he was only a few meters from the ground and once he undid the rope around his injured arm, the pain stinging the entire time, he let himself fall. Rolling with the momentum as he'd been taught and didn’t have perfect just yet, Neron rose back to his feet as quickly as he could.

The doorway was still a ways away, but there seemed to be no obstacle between it and Neron.

Which was instantly suspicious.

Nothing on the walls or ceiling, so the trap was on the floor.

Neron took a few precious seconds to try and spot any oddities in the loose sand on the floor.

He thought he could vaguely make out a checkered pattern, but he couldn't be sure before he heard the climbing wall behind him sink into the floor.

Neron didn't look back and instead chose to dash across the open floor, trying to place one foot on each side of a line he thought he'd seen.

His right foot came down without issues but when he placed his left on the ground, he felt a bit of give.

Neron managed to pull his left foot away before half a dozen wooden rods emerged from the sand. They were blunt and only came to his waist but if he'd been standing on that square he'd be in a lot of pain, sensation suppression or not.

With confirmation that the traps were from the ground, Neron started shuffling. He planted his feet as deep as he could into the sand and dragged them forward without lifting them from the ground.

It looked like he was skating at the speed of a slow jog, but it proved its effect when his front foot slightly dipped and more rods emerged in front of him.

Hopping forward at an angle to land on a different square, Neron repeated the process.

He could hear the bear approaching, its heavy footfalls a steady rhythm that contrasted with his pumping heartbeat, but Neron did not stop his shuffle to run.

Another burst of rods and Neron jumped one more time.

Behind him, the first trap receded into the ground.

He shuffled a bit more, wary of another trap.

The second trap receded.

The bear was right behind him. He could imagine it breathing down his neck… If it wasn’t an unliving puppet, at least.

Half a meter from where the next trap should be.

Neron grit his teeth, took one step forward, and jumped. Not at an angle, but straight for the doorway.

He was unsurprised when no trap emerged, as it would have if Badul continued with the diagonal pattern, but the jump was not to avoid a trap.

Neron somersaulted forward, not getting back to his feet as he scrambled forward on all fours through the sand, his hurt arm stinging the entire way.

A heavy thud landed behind him, more sand joining the small pile in his boots, and Neron passed the final doorway.

THWAK!!

A piece of wood as thick as his arm slammed into the doorway above his head. It would have smashed him in the chest if he were standing.

Neron let out a breath of relief and let himself collapse into the sand, rolled onto his back and lay there for a moment to catch his breath.

A round, hairless face looked down at him.

"You've got good instincts kid." Badul's voice was surprisingly delicate for a dwarf. Didn't make him any less of a sadist, but it was disconcerting to anyone who expected the stocky man to fit a certain stereotype. "I was sure I'd get you this time."

"...Thanks," Neron panted as he answered.

Badul had always emphasized the danger of doorways and corners in the early lessons of the hall. Every single time he oversaw the obstacle course there was always a trap in one of those places.

The long empty hallway. The chase by the faster than usual bear puppet. The lack of any other trap except the pressure plates. Neron was almost certain that the bear had sped up even more than planned at the end just to put pressure so that he wouldn't be prepared for that final blow.

The dwarf was a big believer that the best lessons were learned through experiencing them. Usually painfully.

"Good or bad first?"

"Bad."

"You're still relying too much on your pain reduction." The wood mage lightly kicked Neron's injured arm with his steel-toed boots. The trainee winced at the sting. "You lost valuable time because you couldn't tell your condition. You took an unnecessary risk with my puppet at the start because you hesitated too long. If it'd been a real bear that little dodge wouldn't have worked. Or if I'd been controlling it directly. You should have lured it closer to the walls. It was more disadvantaged by the narrow hall than you were. And you need to run more. Today's course was shorter than usual. You shouldn't be out of breath yet."

Neron, his breath under control again, nodded in acceptance for the criticism as he got to his feet.

"And the good?"

"You're insane."

Neron blinked a bit at Badul's blunt delivery.

"Excuse me?" He wasn't insulted, just confused.

"You got good instincts. I set up the pendulum room like that to force you into the oil. It would have slowed you down for the rest of the course," Badul explained, his eyes serious. "Just jump down, then climb up. Barely a few seconds lost to make it past the last logs. You chose to take a hit to save those seconds, saving you from fighting the wall with oil on your feet." The bald dwarf poked Neron's injured arm. Hard. Neron grunted again. "Then you broke your arm with that rope stunt, saving you more seconds."

Huh. That must be why it wasn't responding at all now.

"And this is what I did right?"

"A few seconds will mean everything when you're running for your life from a monster you can't beat," Badul deadpanned. "Trading a broken arm for that time is the right thing to do if you can expect to receive healing once safe. But to do it without hesitation? Without a lifetime experience in that kind of scenario? That is insane. All living things fear pain. It is instinct. We train so we can overcome that instinct. To make the right choice despite what our panic tells us."

"You just complimented me on my instincts."

"There's good instinct and bad instinct, kid. Knowing which is which comes from experience and pain," Badul grunted as he began to lead Neron out of the center of the course, the walls receding as they approached. "Usually, the first instinct is to panic. I've never had a fresh trainee remain as calm as you in danger. That calmness can slow you down, but it also lets you make good judgments. Except for that dodge at the beginning, every move and decision you made was the correct had this been a real-world scenario. You got second place today."

Neron nodded, having expected as much. Ingrid had emerged uninjured, and today's course was perfectly suited for her skills. This result was fine and kept him in the middle of the pack, behind her and Greck, who dominated combat scenarios.

The other trainees were waiting for him as the walls folded themselves away, and they each lined up to face the instructors for their weekly status updates. Badul joined the group, speaking in low tones for a minute, before they broke up and faced their trainees.

"Good job today," Ysold, the head trainer, told the group once Neron had rejoined his fellows. "You're all shaping up well. Maybe you won't die the minute you leave the city. I don't count on it, but it’s possible now."

The other instructors grunted out a few laughs, but the novices bore it without too much fuss. They were used to their instructor's grim sense of humor.

"Hit the baths and get some rest. If you need healing, ask one of the instructors or take a pill if you can’t deal with the pain. I don't care so long as you resurrect before tomorrow night. We're doing endurance combat, and I don't want to hear any excuses."

As the other trainees headed inside to get cleaned up, Neron debated what to do.

"Do you mind," Neron asked Clarence, gesturing towards his broken arm with a helpless smile.

The instructor placed a hand on the appendage and his hand glowed lightly as he cast a more advanced version of the basic Scab spell.

Neron winced once more as it started its work. He could have searched for someone to cast a more powerful spell to heal it quickly and without pain, but that usually cost money so he decided he could deal with the stinging pain for the dozen or so hours it would take to heal.

"Thank you."

"Sure," Clarence looked at the arm in thought, then scanned around the training yard. "Furu’s out. You gonna be alright like that? I can ask to let you off today?"

"It should be fine," Neron denied, also looking around. Nothing they had used today would require two arms. He'd just be slower than usual. "Besides, I have a deal with Ysold. I am not going to break it just because I am hurting a bit."

Few things were as sympathetic as someone pushing through pain to accomplish a task. Especially when they had an out.

And sympathy was a very powerful tool when you wanted something from someone.

"Good man," Clarence clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"See you tomorrow."

After a few more words of farewell towards his fellow cadets and Badul, Neron set about cleaning the training yard. It wasn't incredibly difficult, even with only one arm. Most of it was wiping down a few mats, checking the condition of the training weapons, and putting them away. He lightly swept the sand to make it more even, covering up the spots where it had shifted to expose the stone underneath.

The full hall took up an entire city block but most of that was the main building and the obstacle course. Neron never worked on the course and today wasn't a day to clean the hall, so it was only an hour to finish. Longer than usual but not bad by any stretch of imagination.

Stars, it wasn't even as strenuous as his old job. Sure, he didn't have the cleaning bots to help, but he also wasn't cleaning up after a few hundred kids.

...Though, by his standard Fallon and Greck were children too, weren't they?

As always, Neron was struck by a wry sense of humor at the fact that modern day humans had a more similar view to the elves of myth than the 'human' natives.

Even Badul would be considered young and Neron wondered how old the dwarf thought he actually was to call him 'kid.' His face would be amusing if he realized Neron was over half his age.

Neron never mentioned it, of course. Seven out of ten times it was better to be thought of as younger than you actually are. Easier to be underestimated that way. And, if it were ever revealed, it wasn't even a lie, as Neron was barely out of his childhood himself. It wasn’t as if players hid their long lives or ages, but natives often confused them with the humans of this world, who only lived to a hundred and fifty if they had at least four Jobs and usually no further.

As Neron finished his tasks, he ceased letting his thoughts wander and pondered what to do.

He wasn't tired. Shejou wouldn't be at their apartment, also not near the end of her rest cycle, so there was no point in returning to the cramped room.

He could go to a late-night bathhouse. His deal didn't include a room and board at the Hall, so it wouldn't be the first time he'd had to find a method of getting clean after getting dirty from training.

His arm still throbbed uncomfortably, and he decided on a path.

Medea's visit had pointed out an area of ignorance he hadn't paid as much attention to as it deserved. Ingrid's news had exacerbated it. Even ignoring the sole quest he had, Neron was very aware he was ignorant about games in general and God’s Nature in particular.

Even though the crystal lamps along the main roads only cast a dim light, the streets were still frequented. Late night revelers, players off their rest cycle, the occasional prostitute, and patrolling guards all ensured that Calderine retained a sense of liveliness even at a late hour.

Passing band of drunks stumbling out of one of the many inns, stepping around a group of Corpse Takers loading up a player who’d logged out too quickly into their cart, Neron retraced the now familiar steps to his favorite reading spot in the small park he’d shown Medea earlier in the evening.

There were no lamps here, but seven of the moons were full, and a half dozen others were close. Combined with the emanating light from the lamps along the main thoroughfare and the reflections off the Arch, there was little in the way of visibility issues in an open area like the park.

It was enough light, in fact, that Neron could notice the small shape concealed in the murk under the bench as he approached.

A small snake slithered out of the shadows and into the grass of the park when he drew near.

It was hard to tell with any exactitude, but the size and dark green scales matched the serpent he'd noticed in the bird’s talons earlier today.

This park was probably the snake's only safe respawn point.

Neron put the creature out of his mind and sat on the bench, reclining slightly to get comfortable for a long night.

He pulled up his menu, navigated toward the external net connection, and paused.

How did he want to go about this?

It was tempting to dive right into God’s Nature. Neron was sure he could find plenty of forums and videos on the game. A few names even came to mind from talking to Polo. But he also knew he lacked context for much of what they'd be talking about. He distinctly remembered being confused by many of his sisters’ discussions about the game, even when they tried to explain things to him.

Neron simply lacked the lexicon to understand everything said on top of missing ‘common sense’ amongst gamers. Like only using character names.

In the end, Medea had pointed him in a direction and Neron decided to see if she was correct about the early information age. It was also more comfortable to read actual studies from reputable sources than attempt to wade through the morass of public discourse to discover the truth.

Nobody knew simultaneously less and more about a culture than one who is part of said culture.

Neron spent the night and most of the next day learning about the beginning of video games and familiarizing himself with the culture that surrounded them.

If nothing else, at least he hoped he would be able to understand why his sisters were so enamored with them.

******

First of all, before anything else, I want to thank those who've given this story a try so early on. The support has been incredibly heartening.