Gaming Sanctuary, Paris

It's a chill, early morning. Earlier than normal in fact.

Joyously, I did not pass away in my sleep, not that it was especially peaceful. My dreams were understandably troubled, so although I don't feel like my arteries are on fire anymore, I didn't get very much in the way of quality rest. Apart from a splitting headache that's been fading away thanks to the painkillers I've been prescribed, this is probably still the best I've felt physically in a while.

Realising that, I probably shouldn't be here again so soon, but the schedule is still in place, so with respect to my doctor, I still have work I need to do. Most pressing of which is to find out the situation in Meteo as things currently stand and perform damage control. Although it's gotten a lot more dangerous for Truthseekers with both Rambling Rose and the Darkest Dreamers Alliance being handed some more leeway on dealing with us in town, I've since come to the realisation that they themselves won't fully understand the implications and consequences of Meteo City's demotion to a Town.

For the time being, they likely won't act out too overly within the walls of the settlement, which adds a brand new and nebulous deadline until they figure out how much more they're now able to get away with in the absence of the System's City-grade oversight. Even if they were to question the NPCs on the differences, most wouldn't be able to explain conclusively, and those that do know aren't likely to admit anything to those below a certain level of Reputation within the Empire, with the possible exception of those whom players have gained a high degree of affinity.

Besides which, with the Pioneers' Alliance reopening with the changes to the previous way of handling things that brings, odds are they'll be busy with other concerns in the meantime. On a macro scale at least - a quick glance at the forums reveals that most people have already come to the consensus that whatever it was that happened is likely to be my fault in some way. A consequence of our fame in the region amongst the players still left making it easy to point fingers at the ones with the most opportunities to do something impressive.

I expect that by now a few people have tried ratting us out to Town Hall overnight for the not insubstantial rewards, which means that it'd probably be for the best that I take the initiative to report in voluntarily rather than be arrested and interrogated at the additional expense of a drop in our standing within the Empire. So long as I go to them in good faith and explain it in the right way, we should be able to avoid recrimination. So goes the hope.

Provided all goes well there, we're set to speak to Generous Morning and Sober Morning later in the day.

And that is definitely not going to get confusing at all. I jest, of course, it's a minor consequence of the setting of the second-place runner up in popularity to Valiant Advance that a lot of people choose samey names that sound like they came from an auto-generation program: Eternal Wuxia. The so-called 'big daddy' of Living World VRMMORPGs released in the mid-90s, which made it a lot of people's first VRMMO, and by now it's on it's way out the door, after the last major content updates failed to reinvigorate it's concurrent player numbers.

The decline of these two titans in the VR gaming scene are what provided much of the fertiliser for Astral Reckoning's future growth. Or if not AR, then some other game would pick up the refugees, like Clouddeep Kingdom.

Not looking forward to having to interact with those EtWu losers again. Think those DDA idiots, but in the hundreds of thousands, with a dearth of self-awareness that is inversely proportional to their egos and greed. Partly because of the setting and the huge RPer community, but mostly the superiority complexes they developed on top of that leading them to cause a shitload of trouble as they try to posture and bribe their way back into prominence so they can relive their glory days of 'spitting in the face of the heavens' and similar cliche nonsence. But the worst part is that they bring their corporate sponsors and interests with them.

I've already finished drawing up a prospective hit list of groups and mavericks that need to be suppressed, destroyed or dissuaded. I'd prefer to do things politely, but not everyone is deserving of mercy, and several of them are responsible for or major contributors to the attempted genocide of the Merrowan natives on the surface.

Sorry, 'integration of the Merrowan populace into the new player-first world of Astral Reckoning'.

"You look like a storm cloud," Henry finally arrives as promised in a text this morning, "Though I guess I can't really blame you, all things considered."

I wave him off, "My mood is unrelated to my near-coma, rest assured. Not to say that I'm entirely pleased either way, but it is what it is. I assume you must be the owner?"

A middle-aged man with a notable paunch dressed like a Cuban mafioso, in a white suit jacket and pants with a floral open-collar shirt, grins, "Yeah, thassrite."

He definitely doesn't sound local, that's for certain. Another American, maybe? Sounds like a cross between Chicago and Essex.

"'m Hoagie Thorpe, you can jus' call me Hoag," Mr Thorpe introduces himself, offering a slightly clammy hand to shake. Before I separate, however, he grabs the back of my hand and slaps a wad of Euros into my palm, "As promised, your hospital fees, yeah? Should be an even grand in there, just t'show my sincerity an' all that."

Taking him at his word, I shove the money into my back pocket, "And the other matters?"

"We jus' got the new the new tech in this morning, raht Hen?" Mr Thorpe turns to his subordinate with a sleazy smile.

Henry nods, "Mhm. They should be installed already, but they need to go through the in-house safety checks still. Shouldn't take more than an hour, if that."

"What model are the new capsules, out of curiosity?" I ask politely, discretely wiping my palm dry on my jeans.

"Orpheus I-8s," Henry answers.

"New just last August," Mr Thorpe elaborates, "Much better than the old Exploretech 6s, as I'm sure you'll find. Been uh, meaning to upgrade for a while now."

That sounds like a blatant lie, but it's for the best that I don't call him out on it and bury the hatchet. I'm not that familiar with current-gen VR tech, but I know that the Orpheus capsules are pretty reliable, middle of the road manufacturers. Not too expensive to maintain either, which was likely a big motivator in his decision.

"How do they do with longer play sessions?" I query.

"Very well, very well!" Mr Thorpe cuts off Henry with enthusiasm, "Orpheus Ltd are famous for being able t' use them comfortably overnight with their 'Sleep Potion' brand D.E.F. We're not offering overnight sessions ahselves, but it should be able t' comfortably support 8-10 hours of regular play with minimal fuss or muss."

Glancing to Henry, he nods subtly, so I assume he's not exaggerating too much.

"Alright," I move on, "And the remainder of my booking fee?"

Mr Thorpe clears his throat, "Well, Hen here's been tellin' me about your marathon habits. So, we got to talking and we agreed that we can either let you in a little earlier than normal, or use it to pay towards changing the D.E.F you'd be usin' from 'Sleep Potion' to 'Silent Night', which is purportedly less toxic long-term."

"I'll take the D.E.F, in that case," I decide. While it would be fantastic to be able to log in earlier and stay in for longer, that would probably do more harm than good when it comes to my body in Reality. Being less fatigued and scatter-brained is honestly a net positive over that.

The swarthy man winces slightly, probably hoping I'd pick the former, banking on me being a thoughtless addict so he'd have to pay less. Sorry to disappoint you, I guess.

"Aight, then that's what we'll do, ok?" He claps his hands together, chuckling insincerely, "Well, I'm feelin' pretty famished, so I'll go find myself some breakfast and leave you to it, alright Henry?"

"Got it, boss," Henry agrees stoically, "Have a good day. I'll leave the reports on the new machines and any leftover paperwork in your office."

He waves in acknowledgement as he wanders off in the opposite direction back to the main streets. Henry deflates a little with a heavy sigh, "Sorry about that, man. Gotta be on my best behaviour 'round him, especially after the shitfit he threw when he found out what happened."

"Don't worry about it," I shake my head, "It all worked out, as far as I'm concerned. I presume that Sherry didn't get treated quite as favourably though."

"You kidding? She works for him, and you're one of our best customers right now, it's a no-brainer which of you he's gonna suck up to," Henry huffs, "Not that he'll do anything to her - Gaming Sanctuary's gonna be under heavier federal scrutiny for a few months, so he's gotta stay squeaky clean. Speaking of which, she should be setting up your machine right now."

"No sick leave?" I question, following him down the stairs.

"Nope, she deferred it in favour of more off days in her annual allowance," Henry explains, "Oh, that reminds me, we'll - me and Jinx I mean - be taking a couple of days off starting tomorrow for that big dungeon Win was talking about. Figure that'll be a better indication of whether it's worth sticking around or not."

I smile, "That's good to hear. All going well, there should be more of us after today as well."

"Keep us posted, yeah?"

"Will do."

---

 

Earthly Vault, Cathedral of The Starlight Truth Faith, Meteo Town

From a shallow groove in a huge block of dark green stone with a decorative relief carved along it's length on both sides, depicting the Starlight Truth's interpretation of the process of ascending to the afterlife, I arise, mostly naked. The only thing I'm wearing is a pair of cloth undergarments to protect my dignity which can't be removed by anyone or anything pre-AM, and even after only with the wearer's explicit permission. Not like there's anything down there right now anyway.

The large, open room is lined with two rows of these stone blocks, the walls similarly carved with scenes of religious and philosophical significance, all well lit by a few shallow bowls with engravings on their base made of a low-grade Elemetal alloy producing a stiff, magical fire, supported by stone columns down the central pathway.

Shifting off the surface of the Oneristh (As they're called), I shiver in the cold, feeling a little sticky from the perfumed oils that are used to fill the Oneristh's bowl-like top and cover up the smell of decomposition. At the very least it's an improvement over the musk I was exuding previously, but I don't know if killing myself is an acceptable substitute for soap and a hot bath. Sniffing my damp forearm, I tentatively identify the herbs used as being primarily from Ghoath, funnily enough. Idly, I wonder how much of their supply was brought in through smuggling.

No need to stick my nose in where it doesn't belong on this occasion, frankly. Padding across the rough stone slab flooring, I kneel down to inspect a blue-tinged wooden coffer at the foot of my particular Oneristh, which contains all of my belongings. It only opens if you're the owner of it's contents, and can't be broken into by any means.

After taking a minute to re-equip, I glance around the crypt, noting that it's fairly empty, all things considered. I spot Jade's Vessel resting at the end of the row of Onerisths, as well as Jupiter's directly across from mine. No sign of Olrica either. I can't help but be concerned since they have yet to respond to any messages even after a full day.

Nothing I can do about it but pray for his safety.

---

 

Pioneers' Alliance, Truth District, Meteo Town

Since we were last here, the Pioneers' Alliance building has undergone a fairly substantial refurbishment, looking much cleaner with a new lick of paint and, obviously, no bloodwrit ritual circle spanning the main hall's flooring with the tortured souls of some dead employees hanging above it.

Rather than just clean the thing off with a mop and bucket, they've taken the much more extreme approach of just ripping out all the innards and floorboards to completely overhaul the interior. From old, filthy wooden boards to a slick dappled grey tiling, and from a counter that looked like it was new maybe 60 years ago to something more modern, with a protective partition and clear glass booth windows for each clerk's station. You can't even see any hint of the second floor anymore.

All in all, this is the Meteo branch of the Pioneers' Alliance that I'm most familiar with. I stopped by in part to satisfy my nostalgia, but I notice some less than charitable stares from some pitiful looking Newborn. As one of the main gathering points for Meteo's playerbase, this should be a good place to do some information gathering, but in hindsight, I'm a little too well-known to perform such work.

With that in mind, I head off to a vacant bench set against the left wall near the counter, fully intent on keeping my own company until Generous Morning, Angelus and Windy all arrive. I would consider registering myself as a member of the Pioneers' Alliance, but as the leader of a different Guild, that's something of a conflict of interests and isn't allowed by Empire law, the internal rules of the Alliance and the game's system. The Pioneers' Alliance is, effectively, the largest Official Guild on the planet, after all.

That's not to say Truthseekers and every other guild is completely barred from taking missions from the Pioneers' Alliance, just that the process is different, as is the availability. First off, your Guild needs to achieve a certain degree of Fame and at least one Deed of 'Rumoured' rank in order to prove it's reliability. Then, the leader of that Guild can negotiate a partnership with the Alliance, which is less of an equal partners relationship, and more the Alliance drawing a line in the sand that the other part isn't allowed to cross.

Setting boundaries in exchange for non-interference and occasionally having bigger jobs thrown their way should the local branch of the Alliance prove inadequate in some way, or some smaller ones that have an imminent deadline which none of the Pioneers can be bothered with for one reason or another.

The Guild becomes a sub-contractor, in a sense. It still limits what Guild players can really do, but it's not like they're without options.

Perhaps the single most crucial thing a Guild Headquarters can do is function as it's own 'Pioneers' Alliance' so to speak; Through the construction of an Employment Bureau on the premises, allowing anyone, not just guild members, to take on requests. Other than a somewhat random assortment of NPC-generated missions (Dependant on the Guild's overall reputation, the local area and the Star Rating of the Bureau), Officers can even set their own custom Quests through this service, allowing the Guild to employ outsiders to collect resources, take care of problems and more. Most importantly, however, is that it's one of the single most reliable revenue sources for any Guild no matter the stage of the game, since to make a request one must pay a deposit, and likewise, to undertake a Quest you must also pay for the privilege. There are limits, of course, but they're nothing worth mentioning right now.

Sufficed to say, getting an Employment Bureau is and has been my number one priority, and I'm not sure I have enough money to fund it, even with more than 200 Stone Gold in our possession. The amount of funds we need is, as ever, ludicrous, and it's only going to get harder once another startling fact reveals itself post-RotA.

"Silver Nosster, correct?" the calm, subdued voice of Generous Morning interrupts my thoughts.

"Yes," I stand, "You're a little earlier than I was expecting."

"It's a well-known tradition that one should arrive at a job interview ahead of the appointed time," she responds with an almost imperceptible smirk, "Is it just you, Mr Nosster?"

"No, my second-in-command and one of the other Officers should also be present shortly," I explain, folding my arms, "If you don't mind my asking, how is Olrica?"

"She's..." Generous Morning hesitates, "Not her best self."

"I get the impression that is a rather diplomatic way of putting it," I frown behind my helmet, "Is it really that bad?"

She nods, reluctantly, "I don't know what happened, and nobody's been willing to try and ask. Might I trouble you for an explanation of what you know of it?"

"To my understanding, she fell victim to a particularly nasty monster's mental attack," I explain, "It was capable of preying on memories of envy, weakness and worthlessness, exaggerating them tenfold. Among us, Olrica was hit perhaps the hardest by it."

At least, I'm told she reacted with less grace than the others, but I don't feel any more comfortable pushing them than the members of Rambling Rose living with Olrica do with her. For my part, I prefer to take the stance that everyone has their own demons to deal with, even if it's far less literal than Arevas made it with me. The only times I'd consider intervening are when they lack the wherewithal to do so on their own and are left spinning their wheels in place - Such as with Henna.

"I see. While I can't claim to understand what she might have been made to relive, is it strange that I feel better knowing the cause?" Generous Morning smiles sadly.

"Not at all," I reassure her, then turn to greet the approaching Angelus, "Hello."

"Good morning," Angelus greets me back, "And hello to you too, Miss. Or is that Mrs?"

"Morning, or Morn, if you prefer, would be just fine," Generous Morning insists, "You are?"

"Angelus. Pleased to meet you," he offers a handshake, which she accepts, before turning to me once more, "Windy will be along in a minute or two."

"You didn't come together?" I question.

Angelus shrugs helplessly, "She spent the night at Stone Arsenal."

"Ok," I resolve to wait a little longer, "How is Henna?"

"A little better after I spoke to her," he scratches his chin, "But more than a little worse for wear. She's still bearing the strain of yesterday's outing, and my spells didn't appear to do much to help with it. I assume it's a soul injury of some kind?"

"Quite possibly," I agree, raising a hand to my Crystal Heart, "I'm not in great shape either on that front, but there's little to be done for it."

That blade construct seems to have returned to it's resting place and is once again serving as a lynchpin keeping everything together. The resurrection process seems to have partially 'reset' me, but the damage I incurred was perhaps too significant to completely fix that way.

Now that I'm thinking about it, I should check my Quest log to see what I ended up getting. Motioning for the both of them to take a seat, I pull up my windows and take stock.

Name: Silver Nosster

Title: Beloved Blade

Race: Silva

Level: 17

Class: Reaver (Uncommon)

HP 4225/4225

Stamina 980/980

MP 510/510

Attributes

• Strength - 56(+45)
• Agility - 46(+25)
• Dexterity - 30
• Resilience - 37(+25)
• Imagination - 5
• Wisdom - 8
• Charisma - 30 
• Perception - 10
• Willpower - 10(+15)

A 4 level net-gain is nothing to sniff at, but my lesser Attributes are starting to seriously lag behind the curve. Unfortunately, with only 10 free points a level, there's little I can do about it for the near future, but if nothing else I can raise my Perception. Trained instinct and Level difference have been carrying me through the two failed ambushes by Giovanni so far, but the fact that he's even able to get that close to me unnoticed to begin with is a cause for serious concern moving forward. As much as I'd like to increase my MP or reduce my vulnerability to spells like yesterday's 'Bindings of the Repressed Self', I also need my Perception to be able to keep up with my physical statistics as they rise, as it is one of the secondaries which allows me to run as fast as I tend to do without tripping.

Choosing to compromise a little, I raise my Perception by 30, and my Dexterity by 10 to make moving around a little easier.

"What Level are you, at present?" Generous Morning asks curiously upon noticing me allocating my free points.

"Much higher than you," I state, not wanting to put an exact value on it, and nudging Angelus to make sure he doesn't spill the beans in my place. I don't know what the top players are looking like Level-wise anymore; My contemporaries are taking cues from me and keeping their information to themselves. However, we should be on par with the best of The Town of Forgiveness, for the time being. It's at this point in our development that we're going to need to consider moving to other locations in order to continue our progression, either north, west or east, but that's not really in the cards for the immediate future. We have too much to do in Meteo before we can all start going further afield.

I, at the very least, will be taking off for two weeks so I can give Lady Jannis a piece of my mind and get rid of Reaver in favour of something more useful. Before that comes our business with Wolf Lords' Remains and acquiring our Headquarters, but I can leave Windy in charge of the details afterwards.

"Is that so? I was not aware that destroying a city's core would be so lucrative," she marvels provocatively.

"The truth of the matter is yet to be understood," I reply calmly, half-sincere. Coincidences do occur, even if I doubt such is the case in this instance, "Regardless, Truthseekers doesn't possess the ability to casually perform such a feat, now or in the future."

That at least is true. Our going theory is that it's related to the Dragon Knight repairing the seal on Arevas. After all, if, by my own admission, The Birdcage's core was potent enough to be used as a core, why not a conveniently imprisoned Archdemon Count?

"I see. From your confidence, I gather that you know something of this matter after all?" Generous Morning adeptly reads between the lines.

"A theory, little more," I stonewall her. Until her trustworthiness can be ascertained, I'll have to watch my words around her.

"More than most," she smiles calmly, then makes way for Windy's arrival.

"Hiya, sorry I'm late boss," Windy apologises, then greets our aspiring administrator, "Windy, you're the new girl, right?"

"Not quite yet," she responds humbly, "I assume you are likewise an Officer?"

"Vice-Leader," Windy proclaims proudly, "Until the boss comes up with a cooler title. One that I like, because his last ideas were dumb."

"I don't see the issue with naming you a Knight Commander," I protest. It's essentially what she is.

"I'm not a knight, and definitely not your knight, boss," Windy huffs, "Making some bold assumptions there about our relationship."

"In fairness, your idea was worse," Angelus indicts her, then raises a hand to brook no further argument, "But it's not a good look to be airing our internal grievances in front of someone looking to join our guild."

Glancing at the mildly amused Generous Morning, I decide to let the argument drop for now. We can revisit it in private later.

"As you say. Then, if you don't mind, we'd best get started on your initial evaluation," I clear my throat, trying to project some authority, "We'll be renting the Pioneers' Alliance's backyard training area for this purpose. Any objections?"

"None," Generous Morning asserts.