Rain poured down incessantly over a dark and ominous valley, that was nestled between two towering mountains. Through the drizzle, one could faintly make out a colorless wetland, known among Origo players as the Bog of Despair. Whether this vast expanse of death and decay had ever had another name was unknown, as it had never been claimed by a kingdom, nor anyone else.
Under the splatter of the raindrops, a ragtag group of warriors and mages were trotting along, seemingly unperturbed by the onslaught of water that had soaked them to their bones. Their expressions were filled with exhaustion, as they had been running like this for days.
At a glance, the group consisted of nine people. Two female elf twins were at the forefront, acting as the group's vanguard. They were dressed in black leather clothes that clung to their bodies, each armed with a set of short blades. Their eyes darted to and fro, as they scouted the area ahead of the group for any danger.
Behind them, two human warriors and mages were wearily following at a distance, trudging through the wetlands. Their clothes could only be described as jarring to the eyes - colors and shapes of all types, some shimmering with odd faint lights, while others were entirely dull in appearance. The one thing the four men shared was the fact that they all had a short gray tabard with the image of a sunken ship on the front and back.
Snuggled between these two groups, in the center, stood the last three members of the group - a lanky human youth with a bow and quiver, an old short dwarf dressed in white robes with a gnarled staff and a robust green-skinned orc, covered with chain mail armor from head to toe.
This was what a typical adventuring group looked like in Origo, the biggest VRMMORPG that came out over a decade ago in the early 2050s. The leader of this group was the orc in the center - Raygo Blacktooth. He was known as one of the horrors of the Wild Lands, famous for being a hardy and loyal tank that any guild would be lucky to recruit, yet despite being infamous in the game for over half a decade, nobody had managed to do so. Raygo was a guildless existence that few would mess with, roaming through the Origo continent and exploring the dangerous depths that other players seldom came close to.
Unbeknownst to his current team members, Raygo was actually a nobody in real life. Born as Raphael Simon, he was a European in his early thirties. In all honesty, Raphael would not have gained notoriety even within the game, had he not started to share information about his discoveries through the online forums that were hosted by the creators of Origo itself.
'Dear god, I can't go on any longer.' Raphael thought, his breathing having gone more than ragged during the last few minutes. Finally, after a few more seconds, he abruptly stopped, the lanky Ranger behind him almost crashing into his broad back. The whole group immediately followed suit, stopping dead in their tracks, and turned their gazes towards the towering orc.
"Let's set up a camp here and rest for a few hours." Raphael stated, upon being met with over half a dozen inquisitive gazes.
A few of the members stoically nodded in return, but most of them sighed with half-hidden smiles upon their faces as they unloaded their gigantic rucksacks and started assembling a gigantic tent. Only the two gray-robed mages carried nothing, but with a short chant various things appeared in their hands, which they then handed over to their teammates.
Mages, unlike every other class in Origo, had the ability to carry their belongings by way of magic, which was understandable as their feeble bodies rarely had the power to sustain more than their own weight, let alone a fifty kilogram bag. This did not come without some minuses, such as needing Mana to actually open their magical inventories, but it was better than the alternative.
Soon, there was a giant tent in the middle of the barren and gray wetlands. The nine adventurers had all huddled next to the fire that was lit underneath it. The fire crackled, its smoke drifting upwards through a small hole in the tent that was covered with something akin to a makeshift leather umbrella.
"What are we going to do now, leader?" asked one of the twin assassins, as she and her sister were eating plums.
"We'll logout and come back in three real hours. I'll set up a totem like last time, so we should be safe until we're back." Raphael said, as he took out a small carving of a wolf from his bag. It looked as if it would crumble any second, as it was charred and filled with cracks.
His teammates looked at the carving with a sense of guilt, before they all nodded in acceptance, sat down and logged out one after another. Their bodies fell to the ground, seemingly asleep.
A stray smile graced Raphael's face as he shook his head.
'Good thing they think this is a rare item…' he thought with a smirk, as he tossed the carving into the fire. A ray of light emerged as the carving disintegrated, and it took on the form of a small wolf cub. It playfully jumped around Raphael and the tent.
"Come on now, go do your duty, little one." Raphael ordered and the cub sauntered out of the tent, as if hoping to please its master.
This small carving was actually a product of a Minor Profession that Raphael had discovered in his early days as an explorer. It was not a Unique Profession or a Hidden Skill, so anybody could learn it, but as Raphael had kept it a secret from everyone, nobody had yet stumbled upon the NPC that had given him the Inheritance Quest.
The carvings offered a form of protection from wandering monsters when one logged out, and while they were not the only method to do so, they were definitely the cheapest Raphael had ever found, which was part of the reason why he was among the more famous explorers. Everyone knew that Raygo Blacktooth would often have items that afforded security for his teammates.
'Come to think of it, it's been almost five years since I accepted this Minor Profession. I wonder if I'll ever find out if I can advance it into a typical Profession…'
Raphael called up his interface and selected 'Logout'.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-
In a large apartment in downtown Berlin, a VR capsule slowly opened up with a hiss. Streamlined and glistening, this was the ARRIVAL 900, the most state-of-the-art personal enclosure for playing virtual reality games. It offered a 98% synchronization rate between the player and the game, which was why it was the most popular piece of gaming technology.
After all, the higher rate of synchronization meant that players that used the ARRIVAL 900 would have a lower latency when controlling their character. On top of that, it offered an extremely low rate of mental rejection, so most players would feel as if their virtual character's body was their own. Earlier models required players to get used to their in-game character's body, which could take anywhere from a few hours to months. It took up half of the small room's space and cost almost as much as a brand new car, but anyone who could afford one would buy it.
Raphael Simon groggily hung his legs over one side of his capsule as he uncoupled himself. Tiredly rubbing his eyes, he stood up and walked to the bathroom to freshen up.
'Oh wow, I spent way more time than I should have!' he mentally scolded himself as he sized himself up in the mirror. A faint stubble had grown on his face. Absentmindedly he tapped the mirror's lower left corner in a practiced pattern. A radio started up, buzzing in the background with the latest news, and a digital clock appeared in the lower left corner. Raphael placed his finger on a small mailbox icon underneath the digital clock, and sighed as it came up empty.
'Guess I won't be hearing back…, definitely due for a shave then, in case I have to go check on her.'
After rummaging for a bit, he finally found an old electric shaver he had been using for years and started methodically working his way through the patches of stubble that had sprawled up.
Raphael Simon was a thirty-two-year-old Englishman, or rather, a citizen of the United Federation of Europe. His mother had been born in Paris, while his father was a Londoner. Surprisingly, he had grown up to be a full head taller than both, reaching a height of one meter and ninety centimeters, and unlike both of them, he had dark black hair and pale green eyes. He had often wondered whether he had been adopted, but in the end he had decided it was not something he wanted to find out.
Despite his height, Raphael was very slim and often slouched, making him look tinier than he actually was. It had been over 11 years since he started playing Origo and the faulty hardware that he had used in the past had taken its toll on his body. Were it not for the fact that he had tried to stay in form, he might have been like many of the gamers of his generation - confined to using a wheelchair outside of the game.
Having finished shaving, Raphael took off his black gaming suit and threw it into the washing machine. He went back to his room to grab a bathrobe. On the way, he idly glanced towards a small picture, lightly touching it as if to make sure it was there.
'No time for distractions, Raffy! The others are gonna be back soon, time to work, work, work!' he scolded himself as he hurriedly went to have a quick shower before eating something light.
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▸▹▸ Loading in Progress… ◂◃◂
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▸▹▸ User Interface Initialized. ◂◃◂
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▸▹▸ Welcome to Origo, Raffy81. ◂◃◂
The lines of text flashed by Raphael's sight as his capsule loaded up the game and successfully connected him to the server. Numerous pixels flickered all around him as he opened his eyes, but they multiplied and grew more complicated, before they finally formed his surroundings. This took less time than the second it took him to stand up from the ground of the warm tent.
His eight teammates were still strewn across the floor, lying in all sorts of weird positions and happily asleep. The two twins had logged out holding hands. Raphael sighed and shook his head as thought back to the first time he had met them. 'Still can't believe they managed to convince me they were dating each other.'
Hastily throwing his rucksack onto his back, Raphael walked out of the tent, looking around. 'Huh, that's weird. Where did that little wolf cub go? There's still a few hours before it should disappear.' he wondered as he glanced around for the wolf-shaped ball of light.
Suddenly, the ground behind him erupted and Raygo Blacktooth, Scourge of the Wild Lands, screamed as he was hurled through the air, falling face-first into a shallow ditch filled with water.
Raphael stiffly stood up, furiously trying to get rid of the water that had gotten into his eyes and nose.
Regaining his sight, he looked towards what remained of the tent. It had been squashed out of existence, and on top of it there was a muscular dark-green appendage. With horror, his eyes anxiously moved up from the slimy leg, through a slimy torso and finally, his gaze landed on the head.
With trepidation, he realized that he had ended up looking into the face of a hundred-meter-tall frog.
'You've got to be kidding me‽'
[Anura, Lord of the Bog]
(Wandering Lord)
Level ???
HP ???/???