3 - New Rules

  Released from the years of pain and delirium, Joe could not recall ever feeling this relaxed. Even though he had no idea what was going on, just being here, free from suffering, was the best day he had had in ages.

  His mind was as clear as the blue sky overhead. He was floating on his back in a perfect pond, under that perfect sky, utterly at ease. Sunwarmed waters cradled him in their embrace. He would have assumed this was some sort of Nirvanesque afterlife if it weren't for weird mental messages.

  Currently, one such notification was hanging out in the corner of his vision, but its contents were locked.

  While his curious nature was having difficulty ignoring the enigmatic alert, this moment was too incredible to waste over such a minor quandary. Simply floating on his back, completely at peace, was worth a million little mystery messages.

  He had been unable to do anything like this for so long. Having spent years with constant tremors, he never could have stilled his body long enough to find the sublime balance between water and sky. He also would have been unlikely to be able to enjoy it if he had. For the last four years, Joe was forced to choose between drug-befuddled thoughts or blinding pain.

  In the end, he had to settle for both. The mind-numbing drug, at that point, could only shave the worst off the agony living behind his forehead.

  Not today. Today, his mind was awake, and the pain was gone. The world around him was so beautiful; he was having difficulty telling himself his eyes were wet just from the waters of the pond. If you had asked him yesterday, Joe would have told you he lost his ability to shed a tear during the chemo years.

  Once again, not today. Today was a whole new … everything.

  Not quite ready to head for shore yet, Joe let his mind wander. This ‘Illuminaria’ was very Earth-like. Around the lake was a hillside of green grass. He spotted oaks, birch, and pine trees nearby.

  Yet there were some obvious differences, too. There were several trees that were shaped like maple, which had a very un-maple-like silver bark. Beside them stood a stand of tall, thin trees with leaves that were almost blue in color. Around the shore were wildflowers whose stalks and leaves were built like daisies but had pink trumpets instead of white-petaled circles. One of the birds that flew past was a breed Joe had never heard of before. It had a brassy feathered body and wings, a charcoal gray head, and dark green legs.

  Another factor was the season. Joe had left Earth during the Fall foliage, yet here, the world had the ripe lushness of spring or early summer.

  Wherever he was, it was very much like the world he had always known, yet not quite the same.

  Supposedly, this world was something like a roleplaying game. If that was so, then Joe assumed he had to have some sort of stats and scores. Attributes were a fundamental part of every RPG he had ever played.

  ‘Ok, let’s see what I’ve got,’ Joe thought before picturing the words ‘Character Sheet’ in his head.

  Instantly, a window popped open before his eyes. The sudden appearance of this blue plane of information directly in front of him startled Joe enough that his head recoiled, dunking his face below the surface. Swinging his body vertically in the water, he sputtered and snorted water from his nose before he was able to give the window his attention.

  “Changeling? Huh? That must be the customized solution. I know what changelings are in folklore; they’re shapeshifters that get left in place of stolen kids. Is that what it means here on this world?” Joe worriedly wondered out loud. He was more than a bit leery about being part of some fairy kidnapping culture.

  “Ok, that’s way better than the baby-swapping from folktales. I can get behind that. Thanks. I’m impressed that you came up with such a good fit for me on the fly.”

  “People come up with stuff you never think of?” Joe remarked, thinking about how his Game Master would always lament that the players never did what he thought they would. He would write the module assuming they would ‘go right’ and, sure enough, they would ‘go left.’

  “From what I saw of the other races, it seems well-balanced.”

  “You would not believe how many designers forget that. Power creep drives me nuts.”

  Joe treaded water for a few more seconds before looking at the empty sky. “You are far more conversant than I was expecting. What should I call you?”

  “Really? I guess so. Though I have to admit, it feels weird interacting with an obviously intelligent entity and calling you System or Mr. Help Screen,” he scoffed, watching a flock of birds wing their way toward the horizon. “Let’s table that for now. What can you tell me about classes? I have an achievement, but I can’t see what it is until I select a class.”

  “So, should I hold out for the best first class I can find?”

  “Bleh. I guess that makes sense, though. I can see players getting themselves in trouble with a complex class right out of the gate. So, I should probably leave my two attribute points unspent until I find out what my first class will be.”

  Joe looked over the screen, finding that most of it made sense. He was accustomed to attributes such as Strength, Dexterity, and Vigor. Perception and Spirit were not ones he commonly used, but he had a pretty good idea of what they were for. The resources, Health, Mana, and Stamina were pretty straightforward. He was sure there were aspects of these he would need to know better, but that could wait until later.

  “Hey. Why don’t I have any skills? I can think of dozens of things I was good at. I used to be a great cross-country runner. I was a certified AKC dog trainer. I was really good at Geometry and could make a perfect burrito.”

  “How come?”

  “That is huge,” Joe uttered, realizing the implications. In most of the RPGs he’d played, you were awarded skills or skill points that you could spend any way you wanted to. Having to balance skills and attributes would mean he’d have to really consider which skills he was going to train.

  “How hard is it to drop a poorly chosen skill?” Joe asked the empty sky.

  “Ok. Good to know, Mister Help … nope,” Joe stuttered to a stop. “I just can’t. You need a name.”

  Joe lay back in the water and mulled over names. “So, what do you call the guy who knows everything? Leonardo? Nah. I love Da Vinci, but I’m going to be thinking Turtles the whole time. Holmes. Newton. Einstein. Hawking. Ooh yeah. Hawking. There was a guy who had it far tougher than I did, and was absolutely amazing anyway. What do you think of Hawking?”

  “Man. You are so literal,” Joe huffed at his unseen companion. “Ok, Hawking, what do I do now?”