Deck of Souls: Fateseal [SAMPLE]

Chapter Four: Demo

I woke up in a crude barrack and took stock of my surroundings before moving to get off the bed. The room was small and didn't appear to have anyone or anything in it aside from me, a single bed, and a chest of drawers. I clenched and unclenched my fist a few times before stretching tentatively.

'That's a little unnerving,' I thought when my spine popped in several places.

Why the developers wanted to present such a realistic scenario was beyond me.

The window nearby was ajar, allowing a temperate breeze to drift in from outside. It looked to be morning. The faint silhouette of a moon hung low and large on the distant horizon. A city stretched for miles around me, shifting to farmland toward the rolling hills in the direction of the moon. Below my room, soldiers in armor had begun their morning training.

'European architecture... I can't get a handle on the time period.' I frowned at the nearby buildings and then looked around my room.

Most fantasy genre games I had played focused on an equivalent of the Dark Ages, but a quick look around showed hints of at least some form of other technologies. If I had to hazard a guess, magitech came to mind.

After confirming that I was dressed, I strode out of my room and looked down the hallway beyond in both directions. Stairs up at one end, stairs down at the other—and a very grumpy middle-aged looking man stalking toward me in chain mail. Lovely.

"Yer late, Otherworlder," the man snapped. "Get down to the yard!"

"Late for...what, exactly?" I crossed my arms.

"Are ya daft?" He leaned over me and squinted. "Ya got ta go through the same tests as anyone else, lassie. If ya don't go now, you'll be waitin' 'til tomorrow!"

"Fine, fine, I'm going," I shrugged and put my hands in my pockets. 'I wonder how bad the penalties are for attacking an NPC? Didn't think I'd find one I want to punch in the face so quickly.'

I mulled over the NPC's greeting as I made my way downstairs. "Otherworlder." The story of most games had the player storyline set up in such a way that they originated from the same world they were playing in. However, that one word implied that was not the case in Jeriskyr.

Pursing my lips, I called up the game's UI as I lined up with the rest of the 'recruits.' 60% NPCs, 40% players, 100% humans. Each player was the same as me, LV0. However, that was not the case for the NPCs. Some of them were as high as LV20, meaning that, at worst, they had one skill level in twenty separate skills.

'Hmm, and none of the trainees are above 50.' I searched my surroundings, confirming that every recruit, soldier, and servant in my line of sight was human. 'Even the prisoners they've lined up for execution are human. I thought there were supposed to be elves in this faction as well—where are they?'

"Outta the way!" one of the players yelled, pushing the NPCs aside. Despite his hurry to get to the front, he stopped and turned green when he took the executioner's axe. It wasn't long before he dropped it, retching, and ran off.