Book Of Fire Prologue 02

Just one HP.

My rosy life in another world, powered by my immense magical abilities, to reward my life of (technically accurate) kindness and benevolence to animals of all kinds, was fading before my eyes. My "Heaven" was looking more and more infernal by the second. Less like Final Fantasy and more like Dark Souls.

Technically, in older RPGs like this one seemed to be, a person of any class could wind up having abysmal HP. You'd have to roll pretty high Stamina or Constitution or whatever to even get a mere +1 HP. Classes with better hit dice just gained improved chances, anyone could roll a 1.

If I was thinking as positively as possible, at least I wasn't a 1 HP Fighter. But all the same, a one hit kill character was hard to swallow.

I raised my hand and looked towards the puppy angel, who was corkscrewing slowly in midair, one hand reaching for her own tail.

"Excuse me, miss... ah...."

"Oh, did I not introduce myself? I am the angel Corgiel."

Corgiel. Of course. But then, if she's a corgi why does she have floppy ears? Dog is truly an inconstant deity.

"Right," I continued, "Ah, Miss Corgiel. Is it possible for a do-over?"

"Of course not, silly! Your Heaven has already been created, and we're all waiting on you to finish!"

Ah, well. Right. I just had to get to level 2 without taking any damage whatsoever. At least it was a simple task, if difficult. Sucessfully making full use of all my abilities and sticking to a strategy just became infinitely more important.

"Now that that's done, it's time to select your skills and abilities!"

Ah, yes, skills and such. A list appeared on the table, and I was able to look it over, in that strange non-corporeal way of examining things seemed to be happening in this space. The list was fairly extensive, and this system seemed to be taking a page from older rpgs, where there were no tiers or skill points, you just picked something and had it mastered.

While some of these skills could be of questionable use, many were downright essential, and I couldn't count on there being opportunities to get more. Of course, if I survived being a one HP wonder, I would get more options eventually- Wizards were educated, of course, and usually receive a decent amount of skills.

I had to decide carefully. Survival to get more powerful was paramount to me right now.

"For my weapon skill I choose... darts."

Darts were what most older called things like kunai, or sometimes really tiny javelins. They would be cheap and easily replaced, and while they were usually low damage, many systems let you throw them quite rapidly, often getting bonus attacks a turn. For a class that was less than stellar at making attack rolls, more opportunities to hit per round would help me succeed purely on the weight of the dice. Rolling a twenty of two or three rolls was a hell of a lot easier than rolling it on one.

"As for non-weapon skills...."

According to the list, I received four selections from the list. First, the proficiencies essential for survival: Direction Sense, Swimming, and Calligraphy.

Monsters in older RPGs did not have challenge levels or any other shorthand for their relative power level- indeed, a DM's skill at encounter design was very much an art and not a science, and using the monster's HP total as the equivalent of a PC's left a lot to be desired. So, straying from the path and hanging out in the wilderness, where there would be all sorts of random encounters, would not be healthy for some time. Further, I didn't know if pocket compasses were going to prohibitively expensive, or even available at all. I couldn't count on being able to find one in-game. So, Direction Sense was essential.

Water was the great enemy of all Player Characters. No matter your level, the water did not care- it drowned all within it's cruel clutches equally, making it many a DM's preferred method of assassination. Being able to swim gave me a chance of surviving the deadly deeps, and meant I could board a ship or cross a stream with slightly less risk to my person.

Finally, the existence of the Calligraphy skill implied that all characters without it might be illiterate, or at least unable to write. While only the most cruel of DMs would ever enforce such a practice, Corgiel denied my request for an HP reroll with a small guilt trip about how long I was taking. I could not take the chance that I wouldn't be able to read my own spellbook. Besides, it was probably going to be necessary if I ever sat down to create my own spell scrolls.

As for my final slot... being able to ride a horse without breaking my neck wold be wonderful, but then visions of being fatally slapped by an upset noblewoman or punched by a surly drunk and dying instantly swam through my head. It would have to be Ettiquette, then.

"Yay! Time for equipment~"

Equipment was at least very simple. Wizards seemed to get their spellbook for free (a blessing, since new spellbooks were probably real expensive), and then a small amount of gold with which to buy additional equipment, determined by a die roll. With trepidation, I picked up the pyramidal d4 one more, and gave it a roll.

Well, fortune smiles on my financial success, at least. I rolled the maximum result, and would have plenty of gold to spend.

Darts for self defense, two robes (in case one got dirty), belt, hat, boots. Backpack, three large belt pouches and four small ones (you couldn't have too much storage), a hand mirror, hooded lantern, some lamp oil, a small tent, and to top it off, a signet ring. I only had a gold and some change to spare, but the signet ring especially was key to my plans.

The page changed again, having gone from skills to equipment and now, finally, to spells. This was what I was waiting for, the most important part of character creation as a mage.

"Go ahead and roll for your starting spells!" Corgiel offered cheerily. I grimaced at that. I'd rather have had a fixed number of spells than having to randomly determine something yet again. Of course I had been prioritizing the list of spells in my head since I saw the list, and I tried to be prepared for anything. I have my essential spells down to three, in case of an abysmal roll, and I have enough needs and wants that I should not be stuck thinking of what to chose.

I gave the dice a roll again. "Here goes nothing!"

Eight! As if apologizing for their poor performance earlier, the dice grant me an entirely acceptable number of spells. That should be more than enough for my needs.

My first selection is...

"Read Magic!"

This is critical. A Wizard without Read Magic is scarcely a Wizard at all. With no ability to study spellbooks or scrolls, I would be stuck having to rely on (usually expensive) tutelage for new spells.

"Armor!"

Armor is a conjuration spell that improves your defenses, and seemed to stack with the bonus from my high Dexterity. Supremely important for my one HP wonder of a character.

"Burning Hands!"

There were only two good Transmutation attack spells on the list Corgiel provided, but in my opinion Burning Hands was the better one. Shocking Grasp dealt more damage, but you have to touch the other creature- something a mage would be particularly bad at, and would put me too close to the enemy. There were probably also some monsters that could harm you if you touch them, and besides, if you miss you do nothing. Burning Hands basically turned your open palm into a flamthrower, covering a small area, potentially hitting multiple targets, and best of all it's up to them to dodge you, not for you to hit. It would also bring my school specialty bonus into play, and seemed to scale better with higher levels. Besides, fire damage is usually more useful all around than electrical. A much better spell all around.

Of course, I'll be dealing direct damage as little as possible, a true power gamer does not leave his success up to the vagaries of such things as dice. All the same having some damage ready for when I would need it is useful.

"Sleep!"

Often, especially in older game systems, Sleep was an extremely potent crowd control spell. Later game designers would cotton on to the fact that was means of completely disabling an enemy was extremely powerful, even if they did wake up as soon as they took damage. Besides, sometimes it would be helpful to take targets alive, and Sleep was a great option for that.

"Mending!"

Mending was an often-overlooked, very useful tool of a spell. Some game systems completely neglected the possibility of degrading equipment, but considering that I'll probably experience normal hunger and have to eat in my Heaven, having a good back-up spell that I can cast for money (and save on replacing my own equipment) would be important. Plus, it fell under my Transmutation specialty.

"Featherfall!"

Featherfall was a good emergency spell to have in my back pocket, allowing me to slow my fall if I happen to slip off a high place, or need to descend down a cliff or a shaft. One less thing able to kill me was always a positive.

"Enlarge!"

Enlarge was surprisingly useful spell, although we're starting to get into the weeds a little. If there's room to take advantage of it, Enlarge is a great buff spell for Fighters, making them slightly easier to hit but increasing their strength and damage. Because it's a reversible spell, I can also choose to use it as "Reduce", doing essentially the opposite effect- debuffing enemies, shrinking objects, that kind of thing.

Then came my final choice: "Floating Disc!"

It has a variety of uses- carrying heavy objects a short distance to start, and then at higher levels when it's lifting force becomes stronger I can ride on it, use it to cross rivers, even have it be an impromptu gurney for wounded party members. It's definitely a long-term pick- it was pretty weak at level one so much that it wasn't good for much more than amusing children- but it should come in handy.

Finally done with making all of my spell choices, I prepare for the final step of my plan.

"So, Corgiel, do you want to hear my back story?"

"Sure!" she replied cheerily, "This is your Heaven, after all, I'll do my best to shape things to your expectations!"

I had very carefully chosen not to select any of my languages up until this point. By doing so, I made sure that this interaction wouldn't end until I was ready to do so, but I could still play it off as a forgetful accident. Now, Corgiel didn't realize it, but she was trapped, with no choice but to do the thing that all other gamers hate: listen to someone talk about their character's backstory.

Of course, in the real world, gamers gladly listen to each other drone on, because of an unspoken social contract: You listen to my story and I'll listen to yours. On and on the cycle goes, with resentment simmering, just waiting for the cathartic moment when every gamer has the spotlight.

I had no patience for that, though. Must be why so many fellow gamers seemed to hate me.

However, for the seasoned power gamer, character backstories were a potent tool. An insidious weapon, to wiggle into the game's setting and open up cracks in the DM's defences so you could get a little bit more power.

"You see, my character is from a fallen and disgraced royal house. He still remembers the day, when he was a child, that his father was cast down in a revolution and his mother had the servants hide the children away while the castle burned. He carries his father's signet ring, and promised himself one day he would redeem his family name."

They call it a redemption arc. I call it catnip for story-gamers.

Royalty is a shortcut to respect and money in all fantasy universes. In most games, the DM is discouraged from having a character be descended from a royal because of all the doors that it opens. Many guides for new DMs even recommends against having royal characters, at least from the start.

Sometimes an adventurer can be awarded with a throne or title, sometimes not. A backstory like this, though, almost certainly ensures that it will happen through the course of the story. The DM would have to be completely vindictive or a total noob to pass up that kind of background.

Plus, being royal puts sex with princesses on the radar, and that's very important in the long term.

But that was only the appetizer. Now for the main course.

"My character was then secreted away by an order of mages who owed my family a favour from generations ago, and took my character and his cousin in. While I was tutored in magic, my beautiful, red haired female cousin proved to have no gift for it, and instead became a skilled fighter, who works hard to protect her frail prince so he can become the future ruler of the house."

A meatshield to protect me until I have more HP- check. A way to assure that I will never be betrayed by my first party member, by having her be automatically loyal to my character- check. Maybe even an incestuous bedwarmer that I can do perverted things with- check.

"Oh, and she specializes in the longsword."

I'm not cruel, after all. This way she has a greater chance of finding a great magic weapon (and wielding it in my name), because magic swords were always more common.

Oh, and finally, the master stroke.

"I also bear my family's heirloom greatsword. It's enchanted so a wizard can use it, but I don't mind leaving it's other magical properties up to you."

The duck.

Every DM wants to maintain control of their game. But, also, most DMs don't want to be assholes, or at least be seen being asshole-ish. So you put an obvious problem in your background for your DM to nitpick over, so they still feel in control. But they don't want to look too controlling, so they only remove or change one thing. But with my strategy, I didn't care, I was giving an obvious thing to discard, the thing I want her to demand I remove, and the parts of my character background that a normal DM would reject normally, instead would get approved. A stroke of genius if I do sa-

"Okay, sounds good!" she replied, grinning good-naturedly, "It's your Heaven after all!"

Wait, what? She didn't even take out the duck?...What the fuck am I going to do with a greatsword I have to drag around!?

Further, she acceded to the protector NPC right away, and without a single complaint. Does this mean Corgiel already knows how she will make my cousin betray me? Hmm, I'll have to keep a close eye on her. Sorry, cousin, but you're a meat shield, and if I can find another useful fighter minion you might have to have an accident.

Suddenly, another d4 appeared on the table before. I couldn't help it, I flinched.

"What's that for!?"

"Determining your starting age, silly! Come on, get going!"

I sigh. Yes, she really did mean ALL the charts, didn't she?

My character winds up starting at 19 years of age, but he has a maximum age of 104. He is 5' 5" (How did I wind up being even shorter in my alleged fantasy realm!) and 166 lbs.

So much for all that unimportant stuff.

For languages I end up choosing Elven, Dwarven, Goblin, Orc and Draconian- the five languages most likely to come up, at least in most settings- and leave the final slot unassigned in case something comes up during play. If the DM is willing, I can just assign the last slot instantly at need, if not then I'll be able to learn the language over time.

Finally, my new name. I don't like overthinking this sort of thing, and I write down the first thing that comes to mind.

"I guess that's that, then, we're ready to go."

"Wait a minute."

I hold a warding hand to Corgiel so my desire is extra-clear.

"This is my Heaven, right? But I've already made a very flawed character. My stats are lower than I'd like them to be, I don't have the spells I want, but I have a deep sense of unease with how you reacted to my character background. So how do I know that I'm getting what I want?"

"Please remember that, as an angel assigned to creating your Heaven, I have a perfect recollection of your life, including all key decision points and factors present each step of the way. I can also sense your thoughts, as I've mentioned before. While I make no claim that there won't be individual parts of your new life in your Heaven that will leave you upset, angry or afraid, I can guarantee that you will, at minimum, be satisfied by the experience."

That legalese-like answer left me even more troubled. The possibility occurred to me that I might be getting set up for a stealth hell- I'd been kind of a jerk in life, after all. This could all be a ruse or illusions of some kind, I had no way of knowing.

Just what is my "Heaven" going to be?

I also didn't miss the implication that the "Heaven" might come to an end one day. That, too, left me feeling uncertain. But the puppy-angel did not stop to reassure, instead continuing to plow on with her explanation.

"However, I must warn you," she said, her voice becoming more solemn, "There are two rules that you absolutely must obey."

I perked up immediately. That would be absolutely important to know, whether I was in for a heaven, hell, or something in between. "What rules?"

"First of all, you cannot speak of anything that has to do with Dog, myself or this space, especially how you got here. While you are unlikely to believed, we can't risk having people commit suicide in droves to try and attempt to get here, it would be disruptive to other people's personal Heavens and might result in an influx of too many clients at once.

"Secondly, do not try to leave your Heaven. The world will have limits, and in the scenario you created it is possible to breach them. Doing so will inevitably result in the retraction of your Heaven and the abandonment of your soul to the void."

Seems simple enough, depending on how easy it is to breach the walls of my Heaven.... I didn't know what "the void" was, but it sounded like something to avoid.

"Good luck, and please enjoy yourself!"

Before I could ask any more questions, the whole world pulsed white, washing out the entire room (or whatever it was) in front of me.

A life that was both mine and not my own flashed in front of my eyes.

A flood of memories pounded into me, overwhelming me. It did not hurt, but instead I was swept helplessly along, like I was going down a long water slide, and every twist and peak in the dark was a new element or emotional turning point.

I learned about the history of a brave and noble kingdom, a shining beacon for all the world to see.

I learned about a king who tried to control the gods and a star that fell from the sky, crushing that kingdom in an instant.

I learned about the people of that kingdom trying to rebuild, eking out a hardscrabble life, and eventually becoming a nation to be proud of again their capitol growing astride the round lagoon that was made when the ocean poured into the crater left by the falling star.

I saw my father, the latest king hundreds of years forward in time, being struck down by the noble peerage for the crime of gaining too much sorcerous power. It was a naked political ploy, taking advantage of myth to overthrow the rightful king, but that made no difference to the rioting mobs.

I saw my father slain in resistance. I saw my mother burned at the stake from the confines of the hooded robe that was my disguise, hoping in vain that some hero would stop the madness unfolding before me.

I knew hunger, starvation and pain. I knew strangers taking their time to feed a hungry child and his older "sister". I knew loyalists giving us respite from the harsh weather, giving us supplies and a temporary home before me moved on. I knew a noble protector who refused to sell her dignity, and learned how to wield steel in order to buy medicine and food for me when I was ill and hungry.