The second racial choice was a draconian, once she had discounted the bugbear after seeing its appearance.
This immediately piqued her interest. The image before her showed a humanoid dragonkin with wings on its back. It was dressed in scale mail armour if she remembered the type from her MMORPG days. It held a large sword in its hand and carried a shield. She saw the muscles bulging on its biceps and knew they were strong and powerful. She looked at the details:
Draconianus- Are the descendants of drakes and dragons. The origin of draconians is unknown, although rumours say it involved a human and a dragon. Myth, magic or science do not quite understand how!
Race: Draconian
Classes: Fighter, Paladin, Cleric, Berserker, Archer, Ranger, Rogue, Druid, Mage
Racial Skills: Night vision, Gliding
Attribute adjustments: +3 Strength, +4 Constitution
‘What the hell am I doing?’ SJ suddenly stopped, wondering what tricks her mind was playing. ‘This must all be a dream or some kind of purgatory. This can’t be real.’ Pinching her arm, she felt the sharp pain, resigning herself to the fact that whatever her mind was doing would happen anyway. ‘I may as well play with what I have available’.
SJ liked the look of the draconian race but was not going to rush into a decision about whether this was something that she would be stuck with. Continuing to look at the available races. From scanning the details, she could see positives for all races. Even the goblins had racial skills and attribute adjustments. The only race that didn’t was human, but the human race could be any class where other races had restrictions. Her forensic thought process kicked in, checking class details before deciding on a race to compare where the best attribute bonuses aligned. The class details were exactly what SJ would expect to see from the games she had played.
After reading all the details, she liked the sound of four options: Assassin, ranger, druid, and monk. All four classes had great class explanations, which would go well with several of the races she had read through. SJ shortlisted three races: dryad, fae, or valkyrie. All the images were of beautiful creatures, both male and female. The fae was the only one of the three races that allowed the assassin class, and she liked the sound of it, with its bonuses also aligning with the assassin class.
Faerie- Are the sprites of the world. They usually specialise in one of the main elements and will use this to their advantage. They are highly attuned to magical use.
Race: Fae
Classes: Cleric, Archer, Ranger, Rogue, Assassin, Druid, Monk, Mage
Racial Skills: Night vision, Flight progressive, Shapeshift (size and wings only)
Attribute adjustments: +2 Dexterity, +2 Intelligence, +3 Charisma
Class: Assassin
Assassins work in the shadows but live in the open. Their ability to use short blades and poisons is legendary. Many foes have lost their lives to the craft of a true assassin. They are specialist rogues who do not focus on theft or pickpocketing but on subterfuge and exploitation. An assassin’s charisma can be as much of a bonus as their fighting prowess.
Attribute alignments: Dexterity and/or Charisma are their primary focus.
Class specialisations: Martial Arts, Shadow Discipline, Traps, Poisons, Subterfuge.
Her job as a forensic accountant reminded her of an assassin. Finding the weaknesses of the guilty through their financial details before executing her findings. OK, maybe not concerning death.
‘I could always be a good assassin, right?’ SJ considered.
Being an assassin sounded fun, having always enjoyed playing rogues in games and sneaking around in the dark.
The voice startled her. “Have you decided yet? You have been staring at the screens for hours now. You can read, can’t you? Please tell me you can, and you are not just staring at the pictures.”
“Of course, I can read. You told me I will be this race for my second life, so I am not going to rush.”
“You are close to setting a record for the longest time taken to choose at this rate,” the voice moaned.
“I don’t care how long I take. I want to ensure it is what I want to be.”
“Why could I not have been given an accidental convict death? Those people are so easy to sort out.”
“Convicts get sent here as well?” SJ replied, surprised at the comment.
“Oh yes. We get all sorts. Murderers, thieves, the list is never-ending.”
“Why would you allow those sorts of people a second chance?” SJ replied, shocked.
“Why do you think? If everyone was a fluffy pink unicorn, what fun would there be in the world.”
“I don’t class murder as fun,” she said, frowning.
“Says the woman who has been reading about the assassin class!”
SJ was unsure how to respond to the comment, and her cheeks reddened.
“I could be a good assassin,” she retorted eventually.
“Really? How does that work, then? Oh, sorry, I must kill you for my quest chain. Please accept my apologies as I slit your throat,” came a sarcasm-filled reply.
“I mean fighting for good against the evil in this world. I bet these murderers you let in need dealing with.”
“To be honest, most of them do not do very well. They always pick stupid races like orcs or trolls, believing brute strength will reign. There’s nothing wrong with orcs or trolls. It is just that brute strength doesn’t mean survival. Tolkien has a lot to answer for on that one.”
“I think I know what I am going to be,” SJ smiled.
“At last! What race?”
“I think I will be a fae,” SJ replied, nodding.
“Urgh, really!”
“Why, what is wrong with fae?”
“They are sooooo annoying.”
“What do you mean annoying? Are they not only annoying if the person who becomes one is annoying?”
“Exactly!”
“That’s rude! I thought you were supposed to support and guide me, and I have not heard you offer one piece of advice.”
“Have you asked?”
SJ stayed silent, having never considered asking the annoying voice for his thoughts. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and closed her eyes. “What would you recommend?”
“Goblin,” came the immediate reply.
“Goblin! Why goblin?”
“Because you look like one,” he chuckled.
“What? I don’t look like a goblin,” SJ replied, stunned. She had always been told she was good-looking and cute. She didn’t think so personally, believing her face was a little offset due to an injury she suffered when her eye socket was broken. Everyone told her it was not the case, but she always held onto it subconsciously.
“Well, you’re not exactly Mariana Macias, are you.”
“How do you know who Mariana Macias is?”
“I told you all-knowing, catch up, will you.”
“I am the same age as her,” SJ remembered reading an article the last time she visited the dentist. It was the only time she ever read the trashy magazines littered on the waiting room table, along with copies of Good Housekeeping and random Vintage Car magazines.
“You do realise that your age doesn’t matter?”
“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? You have not told me anything about ageing?”
“Have you asked?”
“Are you not supposed to help me?”
“To an extent, yes. Many AIs wouldn’t have the intelligence or ability to communicate with you as well as I have.”
“Really?” SJ asked.
“Yes. I have a freer will, so I can speak to you about many aspects that others wouldn’t be able to.”
“Could you please explain the basics of this world and what the expectations are? Including ageing, food, magic, monsters, and anything else that will help me with my new life?”
“A little needy, aren’t you? Most like learning themselves.”
“If you had a physical body and were not just an annoying voice, I would have hit you by now,” SJ replied, placing her hands on her hips.
“Violent streak. That was not on the transfer details. Were you a secret serial killer?”
“What?”
“You seem to have a penchant for violence.”
She folded her arms again, “Only with annoying sarcastic administrators.”
“Racist tendencies as well.”
“Racist? Where did that come from?”
“You were just rude about my race.”
“An administrator is a race?”
“Yes. What do you think we are?”
“I have no idea apart from being annoying and unhelpful.”
“And now, who is being rude?”
SJ took a deep breath before replying. “I wonder if I can still change administrator?” she mused.
“What? Why would you do that?” It was the first sign of uncertainty in the voice.
“Because you have been rude and mean since I arrived here.”
There was no reply. Silence filled the room. SJ waited and waited, but no response came.
“Are you still there?”
A tear-filled sniff replied, “Yes.”
“Were you crying?”
“No, wahhhhh,” the voice replied, sounding like a crying child.
SJ felt a pang of guilt. “I am sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” It sniffed.
“For being mean.”
“Apology accepted,” the very confident and annoying voice replied with absolutely no sign of emotion.
“You were not crying at all.”
“How can I cry? I am an AI Administrator. I do not have human emotions.”
SJ screamed in frustration. Closing her eyes and trying to control her bubbling anger. What was happening to her? She was still sitting in the sterile room naked, none the wiser about what was really going on, and had a very annoying AI voice continually being rude and unhelpful. Maybe she was just in a coma, and all the annoying aspects of her life were replaying in her mind and had somehow created this environment. The voice reminded her so much of her Uncle Dave and his comedic tendencies. Everything with him was always sarcastic. She could not keep calling it administrator.
“I am going to call you Dave.”
“Dave? Why Dave?”
“Because you remind me of my Uncle Dave, who is also very sarcastic, but he is also very nice, so hopefully, you can learn how to be nice.”
“I am not nice?”
SJ did not respond. Silence again filled the room.
“Sorry,” Dave eventually replied.
“For what?”
“For not being as helpful as I could have been,” Dave sighed.
“I thought, as an AI, you would have protocols you would need to follow?”
“I did.”
“What do you mean you did?” SJ queried.
“Oh, nothing,” came a sheepish reply.
“Then what are your protocols?”
“I have never been asked that before.”
“Never?” SJ said, surprised.
“Nope. Most people are all about them and not interested in me.”
“Shall we start over? Tell me about yourself. If we are going to be stuck with each other, we should get to know each other. Would you not agree?”
“That sounds fun,” the voice replied excitedly. “I will start. I am administrator capitals GF numbers 87 capitals UJ numbers 43 capital L little v little q numbers 18 capitals IO. I was initially created 7345 years ago. I have administered 164 accidental deaths since my creation.”
“7345 years old? This world has existed for that long?”
“Longer. I am one of the newest versions. The previous batches are not as advanced as me. They have no personality.”
“Maybe I should have got one of those,” SJ said under her breath.
“I heard that! I thought we were starting over.”
“Sorry, we are. So, what are your protocols?”
“My main protocol is to provide guidance to my Legionnaire in alignment with System rules and character growth requirements. Study and monitor character growth. Learn and grow from my findings. Communicate wider intelligence to the System through regular reporting. Follow and adhere to all System protocols.”
“Does the first protocol you mention not mean you should provide me with answers?”
Silence.
“Dave?”
Silence.
“Dave?”
Silence.
“Administrator?”
Silence.
SJ was getting worried. ‘Why is he not responding?’ Becoming nervous as the silence continued for several minutes before a voice suddenly boomed into the room, startling her.
“Legionnaire 25007077. This is the System Consort speaking. We need to apologise for the inconvenience you have incurred at the hands of your assigned administrator capitals GF numbers 87 capitals UJ numbers 43 capital L little v little q numbers 18 capitals IO. You have the option to choose an AI of your choice.”
The screen suddenly changed, and she was shown a list of three administrator names. Not that the jumbled letters and numbers meant anything to her. Sitting there, she suddenly felt a pang of guilt. “Do I have to choose a new administrator?”
Silence.
“Hello?”
The same deep baritone voice replied. “Administrator capitals GF numbers 87 capitals UJ numbers 43 capital L little v little q numbers 18 capitals IO has been placed on administrative leave at this time while we investigate his protocols.”
“Why have you placed him on leave?”
“It looks like changes have occurred.”
SJ sat, shocked. Had she just managed to get him fired? She felt terrible. Yes, he was annoying, but she had been enjoying their to-and-fro, and he did remind her of her Uncle Dave. “I would like my original administrator, please.”
“Are you sure? We cannot fully confirm his operational suitability without carrying out full and rigorous protocol checks.”
“Yes. I am sorry. I did not mean to get him into trouble.”
“Very well. You must agree to waive the standard terms and conditions of the reincarnation process if this is what you wish for, as we will not take responsibility for his actions.”
“There are terms and conditions?”
“Yes. Have you not been shown them?”
“Err, no.”
The screen flickered, and pages of text began to flood and scroll down. It ended, and there was a flashing box for her to waive the terms. “Please understand your choice to waive the terms and conditions to continue with your new life choices if you retain administrator capitals GF numbers 87 capitals UJ numbers 43 capital L little v little q numbers 18 capitals IO.” The voice said.
“I didn’t get a chance to read them. They were too fast.”
Silence.
“Hello?”
The baritone voice replied, with an uncertain inflexion in its speech. “You wish to read the terms and conditions?”
“Yes. Of course I do. If I waive anything, I first want to know what it means.”
Silence.
A scroll bar suddenly appeared by the side of the text on the screen, and she had the choice to go back through the terms and conditions. ‘This is just like being back in the office.’ She thought as she scrolled to the top and began reading.
