Hope Engine Page 2

  What an oddly calming and polite message. Although most details of HOPE were blocked before sixteen, I knew all about previous games from the turn of the millennium up until the second cold war. It made sense that they’d come up with some new ways of doing things. No menus? I want the door to open, so I just… push the door?

  I pressed my hand against the wooden door, and for the first time I felt the texture of the wood against my skin – it’s slight dampness, the threat of splinters, the weight straining against my arm as I pushed against it. Beautiful.

  Beyond the door were a set of stairs that led into blackness. I started down, and after a few steps looked behind. The door was gone and I was in a spotlight. I thought this might be a loading screen, so I kept on walking.

  “We hope you liked that feeling,’ the system voice chimed. ‘You can feel everything now, so take your time on these stairs. Not to worry though, certain sensations are player controlled. You can set the threshold on pain and stamina. Try this now.”

  A transparent box appeared in my vision with two sliders. One for pain, one for stamina. I reached out experimentally and tried to grab the top slider, but my hand went through it. Okay, so this was still a menu. I focused on the slider and moved it down. When I released it I felt a slight buzz run through my body. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but enough to let me know if a monster was hitting me. Perfect.

  I tried the second slider, again moving it down the scale a bit. This time, when I released it, a wave of tiredness hit me, and my legs didn’t want to work. I had to stop and catch my breath.

  ‘Hell no,’ I muttered between pants.

  I took that slider all the way to the bottom, then moved it up a single notch. Like magic, my muscles were back to fighting fit. No way I wanted that feeling every time I sprinted for too long!

  “Great work. Now let’s pick a character. You can answer some questions and we’ll recommend one for you, or you can pick for yourself. Keep in mind you won’t have to select our recommendation even if you choose to answer the questions.”

  The stairs kept winding downwards, but no menu appeared this time.

  ‘Umm, questions,’ I said aloud, before quickly adding, ‘Please.’ My edu-bots didn’t raise a rude player, that’s for sure.

  “You’ve just been hired for a job with the HOPE content creation team. What have you been hired to create?

  A: Background material.

  B: Fixing common bugs.

  C: Creating new quests.”

  Oh, jeez. The real question was, did I answer this truthfully, or did I answer this how I thought the computer was going to mark me so that I could try and steer it towards the class I wanted? Also, did I answer it as myself, or as the person I wanted to be?

  This was the start of my new life, so I’d answer it all as the person I wanted to be. I wasn’t exactly sure who that was, but I’d have to figure that out over the next few questions, I guess.

  So, this question boiled down to, living in the past, living in the present, or living in the future. The past holds nothing of worth, so definitely not A. Although, you have to know where you’ve come from to know where you’re going…

  This wasn’t going to be easy, as I had similar answers and counter-answers for the other two responses. Living in the present was the best answer, surely, but fixing bugs sounded incredibly boring and tedious. Looking forwards to the future means you’re not happy with what you have, but I’d been looking forward to starting this game for the past few years.

  That was the old me, not happy with what they had, always wanting more. That wasn’t the new me. But I still didn’t know who the new me was, so I’d answer as the old me for now.

  ‘C.’

  “The screen on your VR habitat has cracked. What do you do?

  A: Attempt to fix it yourself to minimise ingame downtime.

  B: Follow procedure and stop playing until you receive a replacement unit.

  C: Take it as a sign and stop playing. Explore your local neighbourhood.”

  This was a much easier question.

  ‘A.’

  “What have you longed for the most in your life?

  A: Money.

  B: Power.

  C: Parents.”

  Unsurprisingly the game had access to my records and knew I was an orphan. The traditional way of becoming an orphan these days was for your parents to give you up to the state because looking after a kid requires too much time spent in real life. We were an epidemic. 72% of children born since a year after HOPE was launched have been orphans. With so many orphans, why did the government keep us? Because people just weren’t doing it any more. Population decline. It was a real disaster that was about to hit the world hard, or so my edu-bot teachers drilled into me. This was also one of the few rules we’d been taught about character creation – no sex changes, because we needed to repopulate. All this led to governments doing whatever they could to keep these orphans alive. That’s why I had quality housing in a location near the root server, all government subsidised. I’d never felt the lack of parents if I’m honest, and the government kept me happy, so I’d never needed money. But power? I’d never had that.

  ‘B.’

  “You see a fight break out between a big shopkeeper and a young boy. What do you do?

  A: Join in and help the shopkeeper.

  B: Join in and help the boy.

  C: Ignore it and leave the shop before you get pulled in to the trouble.

  D: Steal something while the shopkeeper is too busy to notice.”

  Ooh, okay, now we were getting to the real questions. A was obviously if I wanted to fight for the letter of the law. B was for justice regardless of the rules. C was what I would have done in real life as old me, so definitely not that. D was if I wanted to be evil. Hmm. Was new me evil? New me could be. Certainly, I didn’t feel like the letter of the law was for me. That left the only logical choice. Fight for the little guy.

  ‘B’

  “The shopkeeper you have put out of business by aiding a ring of thieves to steal his livelihood has turned to banditry. One day, as you are travelling between towns, he assaults you. Do you…

  A: Take pity on the poor soul, mainly fuelled by your own guilt, and hand over enough to keep him well fed, clothed, and in a warm room for a few nights.

  B: No mercy. Anyone that attacks you must learn their place, which in this case is on the ground in a pool of their own blood.

  C: Try and talk to the man and rationalise with him. Discuss his life choices and set him on the path to good.

  D: You don’t need to do anything – the local woodland creatures come to your aid, and the former shopkeeper will sustain the local ecosystem for some time to come.”

  Oh jeez. This must be the “choices have consequences” part of the tutorial. I pity the guy for losing his livelihood, but I wouldn’t just hand over all my gold, so A is out. B seemed like a huge overreaction for anyone, let alone new me. C sounded good – perhaps I’d be a silver tongued man of the world, relying on his wits instead of his sword. D definitely wasn’t me, but at least I now knew that druids were a class in the game.

  ‘C.’

  “Final question. Your attempt to talk to the brigand whose life you ruined, has failed. As you lie on the forest floor, seconds from death, what have your thoughts turned to?

  A: The beauty of life and how you wish you could have made more of it.

  B: How much swords hurt, and your wish he could have made it a clean death.

  C: Your sudden realisation that leaving shopkeepers to their own business is a sound idea.

  D: Your hope that the shopkeeper was a mere swordsman and wouldn’t be resurrecting you as a fiendish undead creature.”

  I’ll admit, that took an unexpected turn. They were really nailing home the consequences thing. Making more of life? Ehh, I’m sure I’d be resurrected soon, so no big deal. Although, I wouldn’t want to be a bloated disease-carrying zombie, but that wouldn’t be my first thought. Leavi
ng the shopkeeper to his own business was old me, so I couldn’t say that despite it clearly being the smart choice. To be honest, I don’t think I’d be wishing to die quicker either. Once I’d thought about it for a bit, there was only one choice.

  ‘A.’

  “Good job. There is one final piece to your puzzle that we need before we can give you your class recommendation. Don’t think, just do.”

  Suddenly the stairs came to an end and I found myself in a small cave lit on two sides by burning braziers. Two people stood in each pool of light. In both, one was chained to the wall, and one was stood over them, headsman’s axe at the top of its swing, about to be brought down decapitating the victim. To my left was the young thief that I’d decided to help. To the right was the shopkeeper. Twenty steps between me and either of the braziers with nothing but blackness between. Immediately in front of me was a weapon rack. I had the choice of a dagger, a sword and shield, a wooden staff, or a bow.

  Which one would suit me best? Who was new me? A warrior that protected those around him? I traced my hand over the bold shield. No, I’d never been much for brute strength. The bow? There was an appeal to it, but in this situation, I was pretty sure I’d miss. Same goes for the staff – I was sure it was magical, but I didn’t know how I could activate it, and I didn’t have time to figure it out. Dagger it was! I picked up the dagger.

  “Go.”

  I looked around and the axes began falling. Damn it, I’d spent so much time thinking of which weapon to choose, I hadn’t thought of who to save. Without thinking, I ran toward the shopkeeper. Two strides later, I was sure I wouldn’t make it in time. Another stride, and I pulled back my arm, ready to throw the dagger. A terrible idea but I had no choice. On my sixth stride into the black between the light, my foot didn’t land. Instead of ground I felt nothing but air. I fell, and the pain response activated, shaking my real life body. Daggers, stupid choice.

  The camera slowly pulled upwards away from my body, allowing me to see the cave in muted greys. Well how about that. On all sides of the unseeable darkness, after a few steps, the ground was replaced by spike pits. I fell for it. Literally.

  Once my vision reached the roof of the cave, the scene in front of me changed with a blink. It was still muted greys, but I was in a forest, and the wind whipped around me, blowing the trees into a frenzy and buffeting me back. I had to brace myself against the gale.

  “Your test is complete. We have decided that there are several classes well suited to your personality, but the optimum match would be: Hunter.”

  A man in greens and browns appeared in front of me, his colour showing through the grey as I focused on him. By his side was a fierce looking dire wolf that rose above the hunter’s shoulders. HOPE’s take on dire wolves was something to be admired as blood dripped from its mouth after a fresh kill. The hunter himself looked lithe and fast, a feral energy in him to match the wolf. His bow was a thing of beauty, the carved runes glowing with greens and blues. Could this be me? I pushed through the dead wind to get a closer look. Up close, the hunter pulled down his facemask and stared at me. He had thick stubble and piercing green eyes. The wolf snarled at me, and the hunter held up a hand to calm the beast.

  Was this me? Parts of it appealed, but… nature? I’d never even seen a tree in real life. I lived in a country that had replaced all trees with air scrubbers because they were more efficient and left more room for HOPE housing. Maybe that’s what I needed. A complete change. And yet…

  ‘What else have you got for me?’ I called out.

  The scene around me changed in a blink. The wind remained, still forcing me back. I realised for the first time that it wasn’t pushing me back but pulling. The dead wind was trying to pull me somewhere. I was surrounded by rock in a barren, dark landscape. In the background was a mountain. No, a volcano. Streams of glowing lava poured from it. In front of me stood a man garbed in a full length, dark purple robe open at the front with tattered ends trailing behind him. His right arm was encased in black plate armour with silver trim. The same armour covered his right leg, but apart from these two limbs and his cloak he wore simple cloth trousers and had a bare chest. Bare from clothes or armour, at least, as he was adorned with scars and tattoos.

  “Warlock”

  The warlock looked at me, his black hair blowing in the death wind. His eyes were black orbs. He held out his gauntleted hand and a purple blob floated above it. I’d call it an orb, but it wasn’t perfectly formed. It was more organic than that, and it flickered like fire, but also boiled like liquid. It was something that didn’t exist in the real world.

  The purple ball suddenly stretched itself to the ground and began pooling. I knew from previous old-time games that every dev treated warlocks differently. In some games they were magical tanks, in others they were withered casters, and in others still they could summon the most powerful creatures and cast the most overpowered bullshit damage over time spells, focusing on removing enemy abilities and killing them slowly. A debuffer, a tank, dps, they could be anything. What were they here?

  The purple energy started to coalesce into a solid shape. It was a giant four-legged beast of dark purple, with red lightning crackling through its being.

  I didn’t know if I strongly preferred this aesthetic over a holy warrior shimmering in light, but this guy was, most definitely, awesome. I didn’t know how this class became my second option from the questions I was given, but I wasn’t complaining.

  I nodded to myself. ‘I’m a warlock.’

  The wind stopped pulling at me. Colour leaked back into the world, and suddenly the lifeless grey barren stoneland was filled with all shades of stoney greys and browns, and the sky above was a menacing red with black clouds and purple power. Yeah, okay, that was more like it! I could get into this.

  The demon creature had vanished along with the wind, and the man stood still, looking straight ahead. He’d completely changed. He no longer had hair or scars or tattoos, or any distinguishing features, and he now wore clothes that barely kept his modesty.

  Multiple iterations of this generic warlock stretched out until there were twenty four standing side by side in front of me. Then all but the original shifted from being human to being – other. The ground in front of each one glowed in purple runes that seemed to melt the rock, carving words at their feet. The names of the races. There were standard ones like Elf, Dwarf, Orc, Giant. There were also rarer ones like Dragonkin, Elemental, and Tigerman as playable races. And they had one race that I hadn’t seen in a fantasy MMORPG before. It matched the Giant race in size, easily double a standard human height. It looked like a cross between an insect and a lizard. It had cracked, chitinous plates on its back, head, legs, and arms, but an exposed belly. It had a lizard’s tail with a scything blade on the end, and acidic drool dripped from its mandibles. Its six eyes looked menacing and evil, giving it a greater field of view than any of the other races.

  I immediately dismissed the alien creature. Surely it was more suited for the sci-fi game than fantasy. It must have been their cross-over race between the two games. The giant was also out along with the dragonkin, dwarf, and orc. The elemental looked interesting – it was human height but instead of legs, it floated like a genie. I considered the tigerman and the lizardman – apparently called a “Steggar” – because I liked anthropomorphic animals, what can I say. But ultimately, no, it wasn’t something to spend the rest of my life in. So, elf or human? I scratched at my chin for a moment. It had been the human version of the warlock that had inspired me, and I liked the look of the slightly broader human, giving the warlock a sense of weight to go with his deadly magic.

  I focused on the original human model and selected him. The other races disappeared, and as I inspected this generic-looking warlock a context menu popped up, presenting me with a ridiculous amount of options. Okay, character appearance, that made sense. Did I want him to look like me? He was my avatar, yes, but it wasn’t like real life mattered. Yet there was part of me that
wanted to play that power fantasy. To play myself. All right, he’d be me. With a few enhancements, of course.

  “The warlock is a difficult class to master, with many paths to follow. He focuses on his demonic powers, but whether you apply them to summoned allies, buffing yourself, or corrupting your enemies is up to you. But be warned, to reach your true potential, sacrifices will be made. Are you ready to sacrifice yourself in the pursuit of power?”

  Cool spiel. I guess warlocks had a mechanic where using your most damaging spells reduces your health. I’d have to make friends with a healer. ‘Yeah, sure.’

  I picked the option that loaded my own face onto the avatar. Good, that gave me a base to work with. I elongated the face just a touch, made the nose proud instead of cute, added some manly stubble, and made the hair shimmering black and long enough to tie back in a ponytail. I made him slightly above average height, but then thought about it. Everyone would be making their avatar slightly above average height. So, did I make him as tall as possible to stand out? No, everyone would be doing that too. All right. I made him ever so slightly below average height. Had to stand out from the crowd somehow, even if you wouldn’t be able to actually find me in a crowd any more. I changed the average and healthy body that had loaded in to a slightly more bulked out version. The guy did have awesome armour to wear, so I couldn’t have him be a total weed, could I? I broadened the shoulders, increased the arm size a bit, and there, all good! I added abs, which I had to pay for as they were behind a paywall. It wasn’t like my monthly stipend went towards anything else, and soon I’d be earning money in the game, so no problem. I also ever so slightly tweaked the size of some other things. Better safe than sorry.