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Eternyte

Part 2: Verification

copyright comidacomida 2020

In Eternyte, there were four main roles in any party: tank, damage, heal, and support. The vast majority of players always chose damage because it was the most dynamic, fast paced, and easy-to-play in a tunnel-vision sort of way. Less common were tanks and healers since the former was all about taking damage rather than dishing it out, and the latter was so attention-focused that most player considered it more of a job than a way to relax. Yet, out of all four roles, the most rare by far was support.

Support players, especially toward the third MIM Entertainment expansion were all but absent in any player group. Since group size capped at 5, the majority of players preferred to run with a tank, a healer, and three damage so they could breeze through content, leaving support scrambling to fit a 'second best' role as DPS or heals, or else blocked out of the loop entirely. Support characters were barely backdrops for the game-- they were set dressing, and seen as unneeded or immaterial for a 'real' game session.

Will had always been relatively unseen. During school he wasn't involved in any of the clubs or activities; he didn't have any friends and didn't bother taking part in group projects; he was so invisible that he wasn't even the target of bullies. Truly, he was convinced that nobody would even notice if he didn't show up at school. It only made sense then that Eternyte followed that trend: his character had, and always would be a support character. By the time they were seen as useless it really didn't matter to him anyway; almost all of his friends had abandoned the game, and so he strove to make his own way, and, in that, his class selection turned out to be perfect.

Most character roles were represented by three main classes: Tanks had Knights, Monks, and Wardens; damage dealers had Berserkers, Rogues, and Mages; healers had Paladins, Druids, and Priests. Support classes, on the other hand, had four options: Commanders, Bards, Enchanters, and Adepts.

Each class within each specialization used one specific kind of power base from which to draw when using their special abilities: Knights, Berserkers, Paladins, and Commanders used a pool called 'Grit'; Monks, Rogues, Druids, and Bards used 'Stamina'; Wardens, Mages, Priests, and Enchanters used 'Mana'. Adepts were the odd-one out, because, unlike all other classes, they used all three. Will had selected an Adept, not just because they were so unique, but because he'd always been a fan of gimmicks.

Adepts were not limited to skills from their own class-- in fact, there were no class-specific skills just for Adepts. More of a generalist than a specialist, Adepts were able to pull from skills that were universal to all support characters but, in addition to that, every level an Adept could take an ability from the support class tree of their choice, meaning they could mix-and-match powers from Commander, Bard, and Enchanter however they wished.

The draw back, of course, was that they could only select from the class abilities that were available to characters half their level, meaning they exchanged power for versatility. To Will, had been a no-brainer. All of those thoughts and more avalanched through the young man's head as he stood, staring at the enormous minotaur kneeling before him; even down on one knee, the bull-man's eyes were on an even level with Will's own. The monstrous berserker was one of the first times he had used his character's Rulership talent.

That, of course, had been a game. Will had never stood toe-to-hoof before with Minotaurus Bloodhorn, Thrall of the Etherborn. He had never heard the skin-tingling hurricane of the enormous beast drawing breath, or taken in the slightly sweet, warm scent of alfalfa and mead when his Thrall exhaled toward him. As a player, he'd never before been so close to the minotaur as to feel the heat his furred body radiated, or smelled the masculine, musky aroma that wafted off of the enormous brute. It took several seconds for him to break out of his stunned paralysis, brain tripping over itself as he sought to remember what had just been said, and/or if he was expected to reply in some way.

Will had always been a fan of saying nothing; as a prevalent part of the scenery throughout his life, the young man was used to life passing him by and not getting involved usually made it easier. As the seconds ticked by, however, the minotaur made no motion to move, and seemed to be disinclined to do anything but remain on knee, facing him until he was suitably addressed. In game, Will would have had no trouble directing his followers; counting up all of the expansions but excluding the three villages he'd "claimed" in his in-game diary, he'd had ten, and Minotaurus was one of them.

It was a veritable army considering most players rarely had more than one follower but, with careful selection of cross-class skills, Will had built himself up a group that he knew would never leave him. Granted, the last thing he'd ever expected was to be faced with one of them. He briefly considered what it was "Will Etherborn" would do and, for a moment, he was ready to extend one of his shaky hands and rest it on the minotaur's shoulder... or head... or horn... or....? No, despite the fact that the enormous creature had called him 'My Lord' and 'Master', Will was no William Etherborn. He kept his arm at his side. "You... uh... you can stand now... Minotaurus."

The mountain of fur and muscle rose... and rose... and rose until it was towering over him once again. Minotaurus slammed his fist against his chest in a snappy salute, the crack of digits striking sternum sounded almost like a gunshot within the tent. "Master Etherborn, it has been too long. Your Thrall stands ready to serve."

The term 'Thrall' stuck in Will's head; he'd never really liked that classification since it suggested slavery, or at least coercion. He always preferred to think that his followers had followed Will Etherborn out of loyalty and devotion rather than because they were being forced to. Then again, he also realized that the first leadership skill available to him had been Rulership, which implied exactly that. Even as he considered the difference in game mechanics, Minotaurus Bloodhorn, Thrall of the Etherborn stood patiently and passively, not unlike a bigger-than-life statue.

Will recalled that one of the benefits of choosing so many Leadership character talents was that they compounded, allowing him to amass his small army of Non-Player Characters (NPCs)... but the game had never really gone into specifics on how those followers were divided into follower classifications... or if at all. That hole in his in-game knowledge suddenly became an itch that felt like it had to be scratched and, before he could second guess himself, Will spoke a question. "Minotaurus, why do you follow me?"

Once the words were out, Will found himself wondering if he had a death wish; why in the hell would he encourage the minotaur question his loyalties? What if Minotaurus decided he didn't have a good reason? Fortunately, the beast man responded immediately, and without the slightest hesitation... with a loud, bone-jarring belly laugh, even going so far as to slap his bare furry thigh for effect.

It was several seconds before the minotaur had recovered and, when he did, he paused, ears reddening slightly as he cleared his throat, adjusting the belt of his loincloth self-consciously as he looked away, obviously embarrassed by his own outburst. "Oh... ah-- I had thought your question a jest, Master. Had I know you were serious..."

Will shook his head, finding his own cheeks burning from the misunderstanding. He quickly interjected. "You are my Thrall."

The minotaur's rock-hard visage was severe in its expression; he nodded in certainty. "Now and forever, My Lord. Without question."

The young man doubled-up on his suicidal action. "But WHY?"

Minotaurus' shaggy mane covered half of his face once again as he cocked his head to the side, bovine ears perking as if trying to assess something beyond his knowledge. Eventually he answered, almost hesitantly, like a student in class hoping they understood the teacher's question. "Because... I have pledged myself to you, Master."

The Pledge! Will had nearly forgotten about that. Every NPC a player recruited through any of the five leadership talents (and their advanced versions in later expansions) were always represented in a player's inventory by a scroll representing that character's Pledge. When logged in at their bind-point a player could summon their NPC with the use of that Pledge, and it was a Bound Item, meaning it was always available in their inventory so it was a simple matter of activating it. He jumped in surprise, pulled out of his musings by a flash of golden light. Looking down, he saw that he held a scroll wrapped in purple ribbon.

Gazing at the rolled up paper, Will saw that the silk strip was sealed with a bronze clip with a symbol identical to the talent button for 'Basic Rulership'. Minotaurus, he remembered, was the only follower on which he'd ever used that talent. Or, he reminded himself, the only one he'd never bothered changing over. Looking up at the minotaur, he saw that his Thrall was gazing down at him or, more specifically, the Pledge in his hands. Will slid a finger along the edge of the parchment as he spoke his third suicidal question. "What... would you do if the Pledge were not in place?"

Minotaurs shifted his weight from one hoof to the other uncomfortably. "Is... this a test of some kind, My Lord? I am not as wise as you, nor as keen of mind, but if you--"

Will interrupted, opening the scroll as he spoke. "What would you do if I released you from your Pledge?"

Minotaurs' eyes went wide, and Will could see earnest and open distress on the bull-man's face. "M-Master... have I... done wrong?"

The minotaur was immune to actual Fear due to his Devotion and Loyalty character traits, that much Will remembered, but the concerned expression was probably the closest thing he was capable of. As if his memory of the game mechanics popped the realization into his head of their own volition, Will suddenly recalled that NPCs released from their Pledge despawned. He also answered his own question when it came to the minotaur: any NPC companion with either Devotion or Loyalty could not be made to break their Pact in any way, even including enchantment and charm spells. If Will was truly in Eternyte, that left only one possible conclusion. "You would still serve me even without the Pact."

The minotaur recovered immediately, standing up straighter at attention and slamming his fist to his chest once again. "You need not even ask, My Lord. I am your Thrall and nothing will change that."

Emboldened by what he hoped was his increased understanding of the situation, Will transferred Minotaurs' Pact to his left hand. In game, items were pulled directly out of player inventory as if by magic; if what he'd experienced thus far was any indication, could other effects be just as simple? His question was answered when, in a flash of silver light, a piece of parchment and a quill appeared in his right hand. The words came from him almost unbidden; he didn't even have to think about them. "Minotaurus Bloodhorn... you have served me well as my premier Thrall."

The minotaur bowed his head, saying nothing in response to it. Stepping forward, Will tentatively reached out to take hold of one of the bull-man's enormous hands. Able to only grip three fingers at a time, the young man slowly turned it over so he could look at the berserker's calloused palm; Minotaurus didn't resist and complied with the unspoken command. Unsure on specifically how to proceed, Will relied on some innate understanding that escaped him, but was apparently familiar enough with his body that he followed its cues, placing the quill into Minotaurs' hand before bringing the red-ribbon scroll to join with the blank piece of parchment in his right hand.

They flashed for a moment before joining one another, the strip of silk falling off as the script on the scroll transferred to the parchment... only it wasn't the same. Will had never before actually seen an Ethernyte Pact and yet he realized that his intent was enough to carry over to action, and he presented the new Pact to the minotaur as he said "Minotaurus Bloodhorn, Previously the Thrall of Etherborn, with this Pact I make you mine... again. Bound by your essence, I take you into my service as a Retainer."

Having adopted the Commander character trait from the Commander class, Will was able to take any martial class NPC as a follower and Minotaurus, as a Berserker certainly fit that qualification. Looking up to the beast man in front of him, Will asked the question. "Will you sign this new Pact, Minotaurus Bloodhorn, and be hereafter known as the AXE of the Etherborn?"

The minotaur remained where he was, stoic and unmoved for many long moments. Eventually a faint shiver went through the enormous creature then, a moment later, his entire body shuddered and he raised his free hand to cover his muzzle. At first Will didn't realize what the response was until he saw a tear glint in the tent's firelight. Minotaurus did nothing quietly, and the bull's whisper was easily the same volume as a normal man's speaking voice. "Nothing would bring me greater honor or more joy, My Lord."

The bovine berserker adjusted his grasp of the quill and then, with as much violent certainty as if he'd been striking a foe, the minotaur jammed the metal tip into his opposite hand. Reaching out, he pressed the tip of the quill to the new parchment presented by Will, and, suddenly, everything in the room was blotted out, erased from view by a blinding crimson light; red, Will remembered, was the martial color, and the hue of the Commander character trait. The all-encompassing light lasted no more than a few seconds and, when it faded, Minotaurus Bloodaxe, Axe of the Etherborn stood before him.

Minotaurus was the same, and yet he had changed as well. It was not abnormal for an NPC to gain some identifying features when recruited by a player, and those visual differences depended not only on what leadership trait was used to recruit them but also the player's level since the NPC gained enough levels to be one lower than the PC who led them. If what Will was experiencing was like Ethernyte, then Minotaurus had been level 39, but the bull man standing on front of him was decidedly not. In fact, when Will focused on that exact aspect of his follower, he could somehow 'feel' that the minotaur was, in fact, level 124-- one level lower than Will Etherborn had been at the end of the prior expansion.

When he had first walked into the tent, Minotaurus had been adorned in the leather belt and hide loincloth in which he'd worn at the end of the base game. He'd had two large, double-bladed axes strapped to his back held in place by some kind of heavy-hemp strap wrapped around one shoulder and a pair of studded bracers; after the new Pact was signed, Will saw that the minotaur was much different equipped.

His axes, which glimmered with obvious magical power were held in place by a leather harness whose straps crossed the beast man's chest and his bracers were etched and runed, made of Eternyte, the strongest metal in the game. The entire ensemble was finished off with a leather pauldron strapped to his right shoulder. The minotaur was adorned in jewelry as well, golden rings around the base of his horns and a double-serpent design torc on one of his thick arms. Finally, the brass nose horseshoe stud that identified him as a Thrall was gone, replaced by an intricately crafted Eternyte ring.

Despite the palpable strength emanating from Minotaurus, the mighty minotaur fell to his knees, lowering his head so low that his horns nearly scraped the sod floor. "My Lord Etherborn... I sear to you: I shall prove myself worthy of this great honor."

Will never had an easy time dealing with people; he never quite knew what to say. Will Etherborn, however, had no such hang-ups. Drawing from some deep inner reserves that came from being a character with 106 Charisma, the young man stepped forward and rested a hand on the enormous shoulder that was nearly sternum high to him. "You've been in my service for years, Minotaurus. There is no need to prove yourself to me-- you have already done so many times over."

The Minotaur looked up from his place on the floor, his huge form still somehow managing to dwarf Will despite the beast man's supplication. Tears were in the berserker's eyes, but the ardent steel of a veteran warrior dispelled any illusion of vulnerability they might have created. He eventually straightened up so that he was once again on his knees. Resolve filled his countenance, and his body shook with an inner-fire so wonderful and terrible that Will was intimidated by how close he was to it. The minotaur slammed his fist against his chest once again, almost roaring "Then I shall prove myself MORE than worthy!"

Having absolutely no idea how to respond to that, Will surprised himself when an answer came so quickly he was astounded that he hadn't rehearsed it for hours beforehand. "Then will I look forward to promoting you once again."

* * * * *

The Kobolds of Craglecrawl had prepared a great feast in Will's honor. Although he was familiar with eating in Eternyte, it didn't translate completely in an organic manner over to 'real life'. In the game, characters didn't NEED to eat, but they received some minor bonuses for consuming food and, the better quality the food, the more bonuses. The boost would last for several in-game hours, at which point, to regain the boosts, the character would have to eat again.

It was far different than 'starving', and, as far as Will could tell, he wasn't really hungry to begin with. Still, he reasoned, it would be rude to refuse hospitality. Then again, once he was sat down at the kobold-sized banquet table, gazing at the variety of dishes they had available, polite manners weren't the first thing on his mind; the idea of unwashed, squirming worms and uncooked what-looked-like-rat meat really didn't appeal to him. Fortunately he wasn't alone in his hesitance to eat; beside him, Minotaurus, who could have used the table as a hoof-stool, sat impassively with his tree-trunk arms folded across his massive chest.

Will glanced his way, thankful for any kind of distraction which wouldn't require he eat. "You aren't hungry?"

The minotaur glanced his way, then back at the 'food', then toward Will again. His silence, and the faint bead of perspiration forming on his black, furless nose said everything that Will needed to know. "..."

Pip the Herald, the village spokes-kobold was by Will's side in an instant. "Is the food to your liking, Master? Have you tried the milk weevils?"

Identifying the insect by holding up a wooden bowl filled with them, the Kobold offered the young man a mass of scampering, crawly, oval-shaped beetles. They had a slightly off-white look to them, and, as he stared, he swore he could see fluids slosh around in their bulbous abdomens. He vaguely recalled that alchemists used them in a variety of potions but they were certainly NOT considered a food item. Holding a hand up, Will gestured the bowl away. "Thank you, no... I... uh..."

He pondered laboriously trying in vain to figure out a way to escape their 'hospitality'. Fortunately, Minotaurus came to his aid. "This food is not worthy of the Master." Despite Will's impression that minotaurs were relatively slow-thinking, dense humanoids, his companion surprised him by quickly adding "And if my Lord Etherborn does not eat, then I refuse to eat as well."

It was an amazing way to get out of touching the kobold food, Will had to admit, and he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of a barely-hidden smug grin of satisfaction on Minotaurus' snout. If food wasn't REQUIRED, Will reasoned, there was no reason to worry that skipping the welcome banquet would cause either of them any harm but, a moment later, despite the veritable smorgasbord of horror in front of him, Will's stomach grumbled in objection to going without something.

He couldn't help himself, or his curiosity. Turning to a dejected-looking Pip, Will asked "Is this what you normally eat here in Craglecrawl?"

All kobolds at the feast tables immediately put down their food, raised their spindly arms skyward, and cried out in patriotic unison "CRAGLECRAWL!" They then went right back to eating as if they hadn't been interrupted in the first place.

Pip, who had been included in that show of solidarity, put the bowl of milk weevils down and addressed the question. "Oh, no, Master... we eat what we can, when we can. Feasts are ONLY for celebrations, like having you return to us!"

The simple, innocent, earnest statement hit Will in a sensitive spot; he was ALMOST tempted to eat just to ease his sense of guilt, but one more look to the offering solidified his impression that his first choice was for the best. He let out a sigh, fondly wishing that he could have called upon a level 80 ability he'd picked up or, more specifically, a level 40 from the Enchanter class. "Ugh... what I wouldn't give for an Enchanted Feast."

The title of the Class Spell echoed around the crag, bouncing off the rocks and causing the little wooden tables to vibrate with its power. A powerful blue flash consumed the 'food' on the tables in an instant and replaced it with a curtain of mist. Wonderful, delectable scents wafted up from the smoke, causing Will's stomach to jump in excitement, churning hungrily. A moment later, the fog faded into nothing, revealing a veritable cornucopia of mouthwatering dishes-- meats, vegetables, confectionaries... the selection was indescribable.

Will remembered somewhere from his reading of game lore that kobolds were excellent craftsmen when it came to traps, furniture, and simple gear, but cooking was one skill that eluded them. While they often made due eating 'whatever', they had a special love for prepared food and, on the few occasions a named kobold NPC was presented in the game, it usually involved a reputation grind quest for the Scales of Sestur faction, or else a fetch quest to get it some kind of stat boosting prepared food.

Every last kobold present froze, eyes going as wide as teacups as they stared at the banquet before them. Barely able to restrain himself, Will could think of no reason to deny them. "Well? Dig in!"

Cries of praise, devotion, and euphoria arose from the gathering. Kobolds screamed his name in thanks before the entire assembly grew deathly quiet, all except for the sound of small snouts digging into the available food, needly teeth begin put to good use as each of the little lizards tried to outdo the other in being the first to eat themselves into a stupor. Will smiled despite himself, pausing to look over at Minotaurus, who sat patiently, returning his gaze. The young man's brow furrowed as he regarded his companion. "Is everything alright, Minotaurus?"

The massive berserker smiled, the expression somehow almost tender as he replied with seeming infinite patience. "My Lord, as I said... until you eat, I will have nothing."

It was a touching gesture, ruined only by the copious line of saliva dribbling down the side of the minotaur's snout. Will's stomach grumbled again, but it was overpowered rumbling roll of thunder that came from Minotaurus' abdomen. Smiling through his embarrassment, the young man turned back to the table, reaching to help himself to an enormous drumstick. "I'm going to start with the turkey."

Minotaurus' tail flicked in eagerness and, the moment Will took a bite of the steaming, juicy, tender flesh of the bird, the minotaur reached forward with both enormous hands and grabbed a whole turkey of his own, bringing it up to his maw, and bit down, chewing through bones and all. He had a second in his grasp before Will had even finished with his drumstick. Even excluding his massive dinner companion, Will found the entire experience was otherworldly... not to mention, the effects.

Understanding game mechanics were a pivotal element to playing Eternyte, and Will was an expert when it came to knowing what-did-what-for-who in the world of Mystholm. The Enchanted Feast, for example, created an enormous magical collection of food that the caster's entire party could enjoy; if cast in a base or a guildhall it could support everyone present. It also stood as the best food available in the original release of Eternyte, providing everyone who partook a 10% boost to all of their character stats. Until that moment, despite knowing what that meant in game, Will had never experienced what it felt like, but that changed.

Rather than the usual sluggish, heavy feeling of stuffing himself to overflowing, the young man felt invigorated. He felt renewed and recharged. He felt... like he had received a 10% boost to his stats. Turning to his dinner companion, Will watched as the minotaur finished a pony-keg-sized tankard of mead, finishing the consumption with a ground-rumbling belch. In game, any character benefitting from a food boost would have a little turkey leg show under their in-game portrait: white for a minor bonus, green for a lesser bonus, blue for a bonus, purple for a greater bonus, and gold for a massive bonus.

There were no character portraits for Will to see, but just thinking about it confirmed his suspicions; he didn't know how, but he could tell that everyone present was receiving a massive bonus. What caught him as strange, however, was the fact that, in the game, at least, followers couldn't benefit from food buffs, and certainly not townsfolk NPCs like the dozens-upon-dozens of kobolds taking part in the meal. However, looking around at the assembly, Will knew that each and every one of them had received the boost.

Beside him, Minotaurus stretched, groaning in pleasure as he placed a hand on his stomach, chucking as he spoke. "My Lord Etherborn, truly your powers know no limits-- you have certainly tamed THIS beast."

Will couldn't help but smile at the statement, he realized that they'd just eaten dinner. Their surroundings had darkened considerably with only a few errant torches providing meager light. It made sense, of course, considering kobolds didn't need much light to see, but the significance of it wasn't lost on him: it was night time, and night time in Eternyte was not a safe time to be outside of a settlement. His smile disappeared as quickly as the food, which faded away into the same mist from which it appeared.

Pip was by his side in an instant; it looked as though the Kobold had almost doubled in size horizontally. "Is something wrong, Master?"

Will addressed his concerns. "It's nightfall."

Minotaurus grunted in acknowledgement, talking over the Kobold. "Mmm. If you wish to go out into the night I will be at your side... or we can stay in the safety of Craglecrawl."

The stuffed Kobolds weren't restricted in the least by their distended stomachs, all repeating their earlier cheer "CRAGLECRAWL!"

Something about the bull man's suggestion didn't make sense. "What do you mean? Craglecrawl--" he paused as the Kobolds made their proclamation once again. "--isn't protected by Celestials, is it?"

Pip cocked his little reptilian head to the side. "Why wouldn't it be, Master?"

It was a perfectly valid question, Will supposed-- equally as valid as asking why it wouldn't be. The Celestials were the in-game lore as to why monsters never showed up in town (except during the third expansion, but that was a very specific lore-heavy reason). The gods of Mytholm protected their followers and the peaceful inhabitants of the established towns with their divine power, keeping monsters from invading. All settled towns were considered under their protection, but savage camps such as the kobold village weren't... or were they?

Will decided to change his question, and was also careful of his word choice so as to avoid another kobold interruption. "How long has Cra-- has this village been protected by the Celestials?"

The Herald of the village supplicated himself before the young man. "Oh, Gracious Master, we have enjoyed the Celestial's protection ever since you liberated us and we swore ourselves to you! We are your Holding... how could the Celestials NOT protect us?"

Holding-- it was another game term. In the third expansion, Eternyte let players develop small fortresses. Like settled npcs towns, guild halls, and other combat-prohibited areas, Holdings are considered no-monster zones. While storyline attacks were possible as part of missions players could complete, there were no random spawns and mobs didn't appear outside of very limited specifications. But, Will reminded himself, if everything was rolled back to the base game, then how could he have a Holding?

A large, furred hand came to rest on the table beside Will's. Minotaurus' rumbling voice held a note of concern. "Is everything alright, Lord Etherborn?"

He answered even before he could figure out what he was going to say, but did a far finer job of it than if he'd planned out his statement. "Of course... I am just considering my next course of action."

In truth, Will had absolutely no idea what to do, and had no idea on how to figure it out. Minotaurus, however, gave him the answer. "Forgive me for over speaking, my Lord, but I had thought you would plan to return to The Eternal Hall."

Will froze when he heard the minotaur say that name. The Eternal Hall was Will Etherborn's holding. He turned to his companion, about to ask how he could have known about it, but he caught himself before doing so; even though Minotaurus had been a base game NPC, all of a character's companions would have access to a player's holding because that was their primary bind-point. From a Holding, a player could summon any of his NPCs. Of course, it made so much sense!

The young man offered a tactically placed smile. "Very good, Minotaurus... that is exactly what I had planned. I am glad that you are able to keep up."

The minotaur smiled at the praise. Letting out a sigh, Will realized that it was not going to be easy being a leader.