Eternyte
Part 7: Rez Sickness
copyright comidacomida 2020

When Will had first started playing Eternyte he joined in at a time when most players were just getting comfortable at maximum level and seeking out more to complete when it came to end game activity.  In order to keep those players engaged, KM Games stared adding content to conclude specifically for high end players.  Known as 'end game content', this included high level instances called "Assaults".  As the game continued to evolve, the game company added in even more.

One such addition was the inclusion of repeatable tasks for select NPC quest givers that could be done every day, making these missions known as "daily quests", or just "dailies" for short.  While most players didn't mind running through the repetitive fetch quests, kill 'x' number of mobs, or running a rotating schedule of instance, they usually focused on completing the long grin for the sake of a powerful new item upgrade or maybe a prestige item that other, less hardcore players would look at and drool.  While Will had a good number of those, his reason for doing the lengthy "rep grind" was because, at his core, he was an Eternyte completionist.

The last time Will had logged into Eternyte (before whatever had happened during the introduction of the beta) he has taken some of his followers to Vartyn so he could do the daily quests for the Crystal Council, a faction which, according to Eternyte lore was the oligarchy in charge of the massive city introduced in the sixth Eternyte expansion: 'Murmurs of Discontent'.  Generally lauded as the 'expansion that changed everything', it was also considered by some of the hardcore players to be one of the best.

In game lore, two powerful nations closed off from the rest of Mytholm were opened to outsiders as they each required aid in a war that had been raging between them for ages.  Vartyn was the capital city of the nation with which the storyline had the players side while the opposition was a dark, gothic nation portrayed throughout the expansion as an evil land full of nightmarish horrors.  Expansion seven, the first by MIM Entertainment had players head into that land post-earth-shattering-final-confrontation to help pick up the pieces an aid all of the displaced civilians, and it was generally panned by most players as a failure in gaming.

Despite all of the negativity that came with the seventh expansion Will played it too, and took to it so quickly that he hadn't found the time to finish up the daily quests available for the Crystal Council, and so, for the last several weeks whenever he was in Eternyte he always started and ended his gaming sessions in Vartyn working on grinding rep.  When he last logged off he was barely a handful of tasks away from max reputation.  Standing in the Eternal Halls, however, that last game session felt like a lifetime far distant.

Durmel, standing by his side in the large, open hall, was the first to break a several-minute-long silence.  "A Copper for your thoughts, Will."

The Ork had indeed taken longer in the bath than anyone else, but Will had been so caught up in site-seeing and gazing around the Eternal halls that the Priest had no trouble catching up to him.  Even then, Durmel maintained a respectful silence while the young man had just stood there.  In truth, Will was glad that someone finally spoke because he'd been quiet long enough that he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to.  "I was thinking about Vartyn."

Durmel nodded thoughtfully as he reached up to stroke his beard, considering what Will had said. "I was curious about it.  Although I expect you to Recall without your followers, you decided to go to Cragglecrawl fir--" He was interrupted by a distant exclamation of the Kobold village name by its envoys; the Ork's voice apparently carried far enough for them to hear.  Once  they had quieted he continued, "Traveled elsewhere first, presumably NOT by Recalling-- Will, does your group know that you didn't plan to summon them right away?"

The young man's simple statement had unleashed a long train of thought from the Ork; considering he was somehow designed with Will's dad in mind it made sense.  Taking a deep breath, Will carefully phrased his answer as if he were putting information into his journal; the last time he saw Lo, Gral, Luna, and Vlad it had been when he was playing the game, not living in Mytholm, thus he was required to embellish his response. "We parted ways no different from normal, and they know to be ready for when I summon them."

Somewhere deep in his mind Will knew full well that there was no way he should have been able to pull out such an answer so quickly; perhaps whatever had happened to him instilled in him just a small speck of the skill with people that Will Etherborn exhibited.  Durmel looked as though he had a counter for the statement, but Minotaurus closed the distance to the two of them, clopping audibly closer. "Loyal followers to Lord Etherborn wait at his pleasure, Durmel Spirit-Speaker; you know this well."

The Ork's response was provided as a bland observation, making it all the more powerful. "Even if it means standing guard at a kobold settlement, apparently."
 
Minotaurus snorted and Will was immediately reminded of the Berserker's 'Furious' trait; the young man certainly didn't want to have to break up a fight between two of his followers so he stepped in immediately. "I do not need you to speak on my behalf, Minotaurus.  I can speak for myself."

The minotaur immediately stopped, returning his aggressive posture to a neutral one and slammed a fist against his chest as he bowed his head.  "I meant no disrespect, my Lord... he has no right to question you and I could not stand by and--"

Will cut him off, unsure of where the authority came from within him; he had no capacity to lead anyone, let alone a level 125 minotaur barbarian, and het he did so with perfect competency. "You will do what I command, will you not?"

Both of Minotaurus' arms folded around his back and his massive hooves moved to stand a shoulder width apart.  He fell silent quickly and succinctly stating. "Yes, Master.  I understand, Lord Etherborn."

Will nodded and added "Thank you."

Durmel, who had remained quiet during the exchange, reached up to rest a large green hand on the Human's shoulder and spoke calmly "I don't doubt your plans or your choices, Will... I'm just trying to understand.  You said once you valued my opinions, but it's hard to have an intelligent one if I don't know what you're trying to achieve."

Whether it was a reasonable request or not from a follower, Will couldn't say, but the Ork ha a way of making it sound reasonable.  A thousand thoughts ran through his head about different excuses or explanations he could use so he wouldn't look like a complete fool bungling his way through trying to figure things out in strange new surroundings but, fortunately for him, he didn't have to come up with any; before he could speak the three of them were joined by Matt and Pat. 

Both of the Ursurans ascended one of several staircases leading down to a lower level of the Eternal Halls and, as they reached the top step Pat called out "Lord Etherborn, I have the Soul Chamber ready to resurrect your fallen followers.  Matt and I got the required gold collected for the ritual."

The Monk set his paws on his broad hips and flashed a pleased grin. "Watching folks return from the dead never gets old... definitely a lot better than being one of the guys brought back, anyway."

His sister rolled her eyes. "You don't have to DO anything, unlike those of us able to help with the ritual.  It's not an easy thing to do, so next time do your job so others don't die."

Matt stuck his tongue out at her. "Hey-- I'm not the one who keeps people from dying; that'd be a healer, and that's YOUR job."

Durmel interrupted them. "Enough."

It was the kind of loving, playful sibling rivalry that Will had always imagined.  Being an only child he had no real understanding of how brothers and sisters interacted with one another but he often liked to imagine that a combination of having 'a best friend he was around so much that they started to annoy him endlessly' would be the right kind of feel.  He was at such a loss for understanding that he always wrote about their pretend arguments in his in game diary as 'the kinds of confrontations only siblings who loved one another very much could have' and never went into detail.

Seeing it in person, however, really changed his mind on just how that worked, especially when Pat exclaimed "I'll show you the right way to tank!"

The young man took a step back, avoiding the rolling bundle of brown and white fur as the two Ursurans wrestled one another across the hall.  Durmel, beside him, sighed and motioned to the stairwell. "I'm sure they'll join us once they get that out of their system... I think they're just showing off for your benefit."

Will wasn't quite sure what to make of the statement but he was willing to take the Ork's word for it. "Clearly."

Accepting the Priest's invitation, Will led the way with Durmel and Minotaurus following directly after him.  Despite having never actually been in the Eternal Halls before it was still eerily familiar, as if he were returning to one of the homes where his family had lived some years prior.  He knew right away when they reached the lower that it was laid out exactly like had been in Eternyte.

Like the ground floor of the Eternal Halls, the lower level was split into a cross format with a north-south hall as well as an east-west one.  The top floor, which sat independent as a large, pure-white structure with four lengthy wings the lower floor was situated just beneath the surface of the ground and occupied circular tunnels supported by white marble columns.  While some might have suspected that such an underground facility might come across as claustrophobic and dark, the actual experience, Will decided, was more of a comfortable, homey, and almost cozy feel to it, despite its great size.

The ground floor of the Eternal Halls consisted of the day-to-day function of Will's Holdings; the northern hall led to a large Meeting and Gathering room used to entertain other players who came to visit; the west hall contained the impressive Stable of mounts and pets that Will had collected in his more-than-ten-years playing the game; the southern hall was the barracks and dormitories that housed the Eternal Hall's staff and Lord Etherborn's followers; the eastern hall was the bath house, which Will had just enjoyed for the first time ever.

Unlike the ground floor, the lower level was reserved for the less-traveled section of the Eternal Halls dedicated to more private areas.  While his followers were technically not prohibited from venturing down to the lower floor in Eternyte they never did except when being resurrected or given a custom outfit. 

Those rooms, prepared specifically for Will's personal use included his private chamber to the north, his Treasury to the west, his personal armory (also known among his followers as 'The Museum') to the south, and the Library to the east.  Will needed none of those, instead choosing to approach the large stone table situated where the halls met at the large central intersection into which the stairs emerged.

The Soul Chamber itself wasn't so much a room as it was a circular indent in the intersection sunken down approximately two feet from the level of the floor around it; three shallow steps descended to the carpeted floor surrounding a circle of eight altars arranged in a ring around a central dais upon which rested a large square stone slab, ten foot wide by ten foot long.  The altars were positioned so that each was at a compass point, and had a special significance to the rutal of resurrection for his Followers.

Will stood before northern altar, taking in the sight for the first time with his own eyes rather than through a computer screen.  He had resurrected enough Followers over the years that new knew the mechanical aspect of the ritual but he was hesitant to think that actually conducting it would be be as easy as dragging and dropping coins then clicking a command prompt.  He must have delayed longer than he thought because he heard whispers behind himself.

Not only was the voice obvious, but the tone was discernibly Matt's; despite the Ursuran attempting to be at least somewhat quiet, as a Tank, the Monk's natural affinity for drawing attention to himself won out. "Why do ya think he's just standing there?"

His sister's volume was significantly quieter but, already having his attention drawn to the twins, Will overheard her nevertheless. "He's probably preparing the ritual and figuring out who to resurrect first."

Rather than confirm or deny the conjecture Will instead used it as an opportunity to use it as guidance; he could only rez one Follower at a time, but was the order that important?  Choosing to buy himself more time in thought he about-faced, turning to regard his Followers. "Minotaurus, fetch me the allotment of coin, and take Matt with you."

The Berserker slammed his chest fiercely in acknowledgement, bowing his head. "Of course, My Lord."

Matt lingered for a moment longer but the Minotaur reached out and gave him a glancing cuff against the back of his head.  The Monk got the idea right away. "Okay!  I'm coming!"

Pat shifted from foot to foot before inquiring "Is... there something WE can do to assist you, Lord Etherborn?"

Will considered the request for a moment, then nodded; he didn't know if he knew exactly what he was supposed to do but, as a quick study, he figured it'd be helpful to have a little casual assistance. "Yes, Pat.  I would like you and Durmel to assist me with the ritual."

The moment the words left his mouth he second-guessed his request; truth be told, npcs didn't help a player rez Followers.  However, he reasoned, resolved in his decision, if there were differences between Eternyte and the world around him then he had to learn somehow.  He was surprised when neither so much as batted an eye.  Durmel, in fact, stepped right up beside him with a warm, tusky smile. "Thank you for the opportunity, Will.  I'm glad to help however I can."

Pat nodded with verve. "Right!  We'll follow your lead."

The young man had to fight to keep a frown off his face; them following him was the exact opposite of what he'd hoped to achieve but, he quickly reminded himself, it was a long shot to begin and so he carefully hid his disappointment.  It would probably turn out alright considering everything else he had done was essentially by reflex so why should resurrecting fallen Followers be any different?  He kept telling himself that, practically turning into a mantra to repeat over and over in his head as Minotaurus and Matt returned with several huge sacks of coins.

Player resurrection was a simple affair and, aside from losing half of the coin and a five percent chance to lose each item that was carried there was no real 'cost' to dying in Eternyte.  Followers, on the other hand, were expensive.  Every Follower resurrected cost 10g per follower level up to ten, then 100 gold for any follower whose level was between 11 and twenty.  For a follower between levels 21 and 30, resurrection cost 1,000 gold, then 2,500 gold up to 40, then 5,000 up to 60, and 5,000 for every 10 thereafter. 

Resurrecting a level 100 follower or higher capped at 25,000 gold but that was still a significant amount, especially since most quests over level 100 rarely paid out more than 1,000 gold at a time.  Considering his three dead followers were all over level 100 the total cost was going to be 75,000 gold, which was not an insignificant amount.  Fortunately, Will usually carried nearly that on him and well over ten times that in the Eternal Halls' treasury.  In fact, as he thought about coins, he came to realize that Minotaurus and Matt brought out just enough to make the total available exactly what was needed.  He also somehow knew that the treasury of the Eternal Halls was precisely 944,866 gold coins.

Without having to be directed, Minotaurus set one huge bag down at every other altar until three were in position, at which point Matt placed the last one.  From there, Durmel and Pat began scooping out large amounts of coin at a time into each of the altars; that was obvious where the fee was paid. Will was innately aware that the sum of coins available had decreased by exactly 24,000 by the time all the coins were placed in the altar, at which point Matt approached and set a sack of 1,000 into his hand.  The pouch looked far too small to contain the amount of coins he knew were within but he disregarded the discrepancy, realizing it was his turn to do... something?

Understanding that he could hesitate no longer, Will approached the large stone table; it looked incredibly empty.  Listening to some unspoken, unrealized thought, Will reached into his robe, calling forth a Pact.  He wasn't particularly worried about which it was so long as it was one that belonged to one of his slain Followers and, heeding the inclination to act, he placed the coin pouch onto the table and then tapped it with the Pact.  There was a bright flash and, before his eyes, the coin pouch disappeared, replaced by the corpse of Proudmane the Savanite Warden.

A distinct eerie feeling flowed across Will as he stared down at his slain Follower.  Just like the rest of the NPCs-made-real, Proudmane looked to be exactly how he was portrayed in Eternyte, but there was an inescapable unease in the human's mind as he inspected the lion-like corpse; in Eternyte characters had a health bar and extremely injured characters got some superficial changes made to the appearance of their portrait in the interface, but there weren't any real signs of injuries on their bodies.  The world around Will both followed and defied this arrangement.

Proudmane's fur was supposed to be a gleaming gold with a rose-gold/orange mane and, any time he died his portrait grayed out, leaving the colors muted.  Will saw that exact dulled coloration on his corpse.  In addition, the fatal injuries were there on display, despoiling his otherwise chiseled body and what should have been immaculate fur-- it was grisly in a way that Will was not ready to experience, and ghastly enough that it would definitely have raised Eternyte a few ratings on the ESRB rating scale.  He fought to maintain unphased, but failed, feeling his stomach drop down into his pelvis and he was certain he was turning pale.

Pat was by his side in an instant, folding her paws around his wrist.  She provided him a distraction by giving his arm a gentle hug, speaking softly. "Your kindness and empathy are two of your many strengths, Lord Etherborn... to see you respond so viscerally at the plight of one of your followers reinforces my belief in you."

The Druid had definitely misread his response; he wasn't so much sorrowful as nauseated, but he somehow managed to hold his ground.  It also provided Will the opportunity to look away from Proudmane, and staring at the sympathetic, brown doe eyes of the Urusuran woman helped him to gather his composure.  Offering as much of a convincing smile as he could manage, the young man stated with what he hoped sounded like confidence "We won't have to grieve long, Pat Greenpaw... it is time to call Proudmane back into service."

Bowing reverently, Pat stepped back, providing Will space to complete a ritual he had no idea how to even start, let alone enact.  Looking back to the Savanite corpse laying on the large stone table, the human forced himself to look at it as a puzzle, hoping that focusing on the challenge of making things right would help distract him from all of the horrific wounds that almost screamed at him to evacuate his stomach.  No, he promised himself, not only would he not vomit, he would complete the ritual and show his Followers that he was the Will Etherborn of whom  they thought so highly.

Stepping closer, Will rested a hand on the stone slab, leaning closer to his slain Follower.  Proudmane, aside from Minotaurus, was probably his follower who had died most often, but that was mostly because he was the tank used most often for end game content which, by nature tended to be far more lethal than earlier game activities.  His fingers crept reluctantly across the table until his hand somehow found its way to the lion man's paw, at which point he surprised himself by somehow gathering up the conviction to take hold of Proudmane's fingers.  Giving them a gentle squeeze, Will whispered "Hey... if there were any time to come back to life, I think now'd be it."

It was a feeble hope that such a hail mary attempt would succeed, especially when the actual ritual was supposed to be far more grandiose.  When he did it in game the Pact was involved, and there was a certan stance his character took, and then there was light-- lots and lots of golden light.  Without even really thinking about it, Will found himself mimicking the stance as he remembered it, and held onto Proudmane's Pact in his left hand, still gripping the Savanite's paw in his right.  It was essentially the sum total of the ritual as he had experienced it as a player, but how in the heck was he supposed to left click a button for confirmation when there was no button?

He suddenly remembered the button that appeared to be clicked.  Rather than something as mundane as "ACCCEPT", "CONFIRM" or "ACTIVATE", there was a certain verbiage on that button.  As he thought about it, Will remembered just what that button said:  CALL THEM BACK.  Will, with no other option, resolved to do just that.

Gripping the Pact tightly, he raised his voice. "Proudmane the Warden, Eighth Follower of Will Etherborn, by your Pact I call for you.  I pay for you.  The price is met, now return to me...  Return to service."

An otherworldly chorus of unearthly harmony put an end to his call and stunned him to silence.  As he listened, Will realized that what he heard was not actually a chorus of voices, nor were there discernible instruments like an orchestra; it was the essence of creation-- literally; the theme song for Eternyte was entitled 'The Essence of Creation', and that was exactly what he heard.  A bright golden light completely engulfed him, blotting out everything else in the room and then, even as the young man took a steadying breath, he felt Proudmane's paw squeeze his hand back.

A moment later the light and chorus were gone as if they had never existed, and his Follower groaned, slowly sitting up on the stone table.  Durmel and Pat were there in an instant, ready to jump in and ply their trade with a variety of healing spells.  The resurrection had restored the Warden to life, but in game when that happened the Follower was brought back with one health point; considering the enormous health pool Proudmane had it would take a lot of magic to restore him to full... and it did.

Still exhausted after his resurrection, Proudmane nevertheless managed to linger long enough to smile at Will.  Even as Matt was trying to guide him off to the barracks the Warden hesitated so he could greet his master.  "Welcome back, Lord Etherborn... as always, I am at your service, and I eagerly look forward to dying in your name again the moment you ask it of me."

Already Pat and Durmel had begin setting up for the second ritual and the young man realized that his task was far from done.  Holding up a hand to stall Matt, Will moved to address Proudmane, reaching up to rest a hand on the lion man's shoulder. "I am glad to have you with me again, my friend... but let's see if we can keep the dying to a minimum."

Minotaurus grunted from the other side of the Soul Chamber "Yeah, Cat... bringing you back is costly."

Being a tank required a certain amount of self confidence and, as a Warden, Proudmane had it in spades.  Offering a wry grin to Will, the Savanite stated simply "Well then... I shall strive survive long enough to pay you back, my Lord."

The wink that followed the words made Will blush, but not quite as much as the soft, rumbling purr that accompanied the statement.  Will had always written in his in-game journal about Proudmane being the hero, and the chivalrous knight.  Although he followed his code of conduct and was dedicated beyond all reason to his Pact with Will, the knightly Savanite was usually cold and distant to any but his chosen lord.  Truth be told, the young man felt that the familiar exchange was far greater than anything he could have written himself, and returned to the table to continue the resurrections so he could overcome being so flustered.

With the tank resurrected, the slain were reduced to two in number, and both were DPS classes.  Although such considerations weren't particularly important, Will clung to the meta-stats of the Eternyte game as a coping mechanism.  His followers had already reset the ritual site and, once again, a sack of 1000 gold coins was put into his hand.  Letting out a deep breath, he got back to work.

Raphael was resurrected next.  Ratkin were said to be possessed of a certain body odor and, when the corpse was summoned to the table Will very nearly gave into the inclination to sniff, wondering just what he would detect, but, once he did, only the strong scent of perfume met his nose, and then he rolled his eyes at his own foolishness, remembering that when he wrote about Raph he always indicated that the Ratkin Bard was particularly sensitive about his body odor and went to great lengths to mask it, but was only marginally successful.  No sooner than he recalled the qualifier that Will caught the undercurrent of rotten garbage sitting out on a windless summer's day.

Having already completed one ritual of resurrection it was a simple matter of repeating it and, in short order, the Ratkin was sitting up, exclaiming "PROUDMANE, I NEED HEL--"

Will reached forward and pressed a hand to the rat man's forearm.  "It's okay, Raph.  There's no danger anymore."

The Bard flicked an ear, his previous expression of horror quickly replaced by one of displeasure. "Oh... I died, did I?  How embarrassing."

Pat chuckled as she began healing the Ratkin.  Durmel also helped, though he remained much more stoic.  "Yes.  I apologize for being too slow in seeing to your injuries."

Raphael rolled his shoulder as the Druid's healing magics slowly closed the wounds and he reached up to smooth out an uneven kink in his ear caused by a large slash closing up; the adjustment returned it to its proper position and he stated "Hey, you can only do so much with your mana, old man... next time let me know you're getting low and I'll use a Spirit Serenade to help you out."

Spirit Serenade was a Bard song that increased mana regeneration of party members; it was a song that Will knew Raphael had, but the Human generally preferred one of his Enchanter abilities that he could use since it worked faster.  Then again, he reminded himself, he hadn't been there so it had been a moot point.  Clearing his throat, the young man spoke. "Thank you for helping everyone protect the Eternal Halls, Raph.  I'm glad you're here with us."

The rat man hopped off the slab, disengaging from the group surrounding him. "It's fine, Boss... it's my job, after all.  I mean, hey-- as long as you keep springing for these rez sessions I can't really complain, right?"

Pat interjected. "Sure you can... Matt does all the time."

The Monk, who had JUST returned from seeing Proudmane off to the barracks questioned "What do I do all the time?"

Rather than give anyone a chance to answer, Raph simply winked, grabbing his cloak and returning it to his shoulders as he announced "Of course I could... but who would ever bother listening?"

With that as a parting statement the Ratkin offered a courtly bow and showed himself out. Considering how draining the resurrection process was, Will was happy to presume that Raph was returning to the barracks to rest alongside Proudmane.  Letting out a content sigh, the young man turned back to the task at hand, realizing that Durmel and Pat were already setting up for the third and final ritual.  He was ready.

One celestial chorus and flash of golden light later, Will found himself crammed nose-first between a pair of shapely, red-hued breasts which were barely restrained by lace cross-crossing a revealing corset.  Hunny Sugar squeezed him tightly to her body as she squealed in unabashed joy. "Oh, my Love!  You have returned to us at long last!  I have missed you ever so much... I beg of you, on my knees, let us never part ever again!"

Well... he had THOUGHT he was ready.  Hunny Sugar, Chief Consort to the Etherborn, in all her unabashed worship of him as a master, Lord, and object of affection, in one back-popping obsessive embraced, the Succubus had proved him wrong.  He would NEVER be ready.