[ Welcome to Aldern ]
One second there was darkness. The next, sunlight hit his face.
Before he could marvel at how warm it felt, voices crashed over him from every direction. Pantheon’s auto-translator translated every language around him into English without stripping away the speakers’ accents or tone.
Wagon wheels rattled across stone. Smoke drifted from chimneys, someone nearby was arguing with a merchant, and a horse had apparently decided that several thousand humans appearing in its town at once was a personal insult.
Ren stood in the middle of the square wearing a grey shirt, rough trousers and brown boots. His hands were his, his body felt the same, and when a dark strand fell across his vision, apparently the hair was his too. Pantheon had not bothered improving the source material.
The clothes were everything Pantheon had given him so far.
Around him, new players kept appearing in columns of white light. Some immediately started shouting names and searching for friends. Others opened menus and stopped dead in the middle of traffic while everyone behind them swore.
A man nearby slapped both hands over his head.
"No fucking way!"
His friend turned toward him. "What?"
"I’m still bald!"
"You thought Pantheon would fix that?"
"I had hope."
"That’s on you."
Ren looked away before the man could catch him smiling.
A second later, another player sprinted past carrying a wooden stool over his head.
A guard chased him.
"PUT THAT BACK!"
"I’M TESTING THE CRIME SYSTEM!"
"YOU’LL CONTINUE TESTING IT IN JAIL!"
The guard tackled him into a cabbage cart. Vegetables rolled across the street.
Good start.
A cheer rose from the other side of the square. That was where most of the new arrivals were heading, so Ren followed.
The Talent Assessment occupied a broad stone platform beneath the blue crest of Arvane. Several lines formed in front of crystal pedestals, where clerks processed players as quickly as they could.
A young man placed his hand against one of the crystals.
It flashed.
Talent Assessment Complete.
Talent: Home Cooking
Talent Grade: F
The young man’s face collapsed.
"I trained kendo for nine years."
A woman farther back in line called, "At least you won’t starve."
"I wanted Samurai!"
"Open a restaurant called Samurai."
Half the line laughed.
The next result drew an even stranger reaction.
Talent: Fisherman’s Instinct
Talent Grade: F
The player stared at it.
"My father’s going to kill me."
"Fishing family?" someone asked.
"Investment banking."
That got an even bigger laugh.
Ren joined the shortest line he could find.
Pantheon had advertised talents for months, but seeing them appear one after another made the system much easier to understand.
Talents were not classes. They were advantages.
Some were built for combat. Others helped with crafting, gathering, movement or trade. Grade measured a talent’s potential, not whether it was meant for fighting.
A woman two pedestals over rolled Fine Stitching E and immediately started celebrating.
The player beside her looked offended on her behalf.
"That’s sewing."
"That’s money," she said.
Fair point.
Then another crystal flashed blue.
Talent: Mana Sense
Talent Grade: D
The mood changed immediately.
Three players who had been recruiting together near the platform moved toward him before he had even stepped off.
"You’re unsigned?"
The D-rank player blinked. "I just logged in."
"Shared training studio, equipment covered, housing covered. We’ll send the contract outside the game."
Another team representative pushed closer.
"Don’t sign anything yet. We’ll beat their offer."
"We haven’t made the offer."
"Then we’ll beat whatever you were about to make."
A clerk pointed away from the platform.
"Recruit somewhere else."
Both teams obeyed. Mostly. They continued arguing ten feet away.
Theo had not exaggerated.
The line advanced.
Ren watched a Miner F, a Beast Scent E, and a Quick Hands D go through before another result drew attention.
Talent: Master Weaver
Talent Grade: C
Several combat-focused teams barely reacted. The crafting recruiters rushed over.
"Private apartment!"
"Full workshop!"
"Materials budget!"
"Don’t sign until you read the exclusivity clause!"
The woman with Master Weaver C looked like her evening had improved dramatically.
Ren remembered Theo’s explanation.
A D-rank talent could get you shared housing.
C could get you a private apartment.
B could get you a house.
All from one line on a character sheet.
The next twenty assessments were mostly F and E. Then gold light erupted from a pedestal near the front.
Talent: Giant’s Grip
Talent Grade: A
The square exploded.
People abandoned nearby lines just to see. Recording windows appeared everywhere.
"AN A!"
"WHO’S HE WITH?"
"Nobody!"
"HOW DO YOU KNOW?"
"I DON’T!"
One of the recruiters started shouting over everyone else.
"PRIVATE HOUSE! FULL SALARY! TRAINING STAFF! NAME YOUR TERMS!"
Another representative shoved closer.
"Ignore him! He’s only authorized for B-ranks!"
"I GOT AUTHORIZED VERY RECENTLY!"
The A-rank player disappeared into the crowd.
Ren’s line moved forward by three places while everyone watched.
A few assessments later, another crystal turned gold. This time the talent was different.
Talent: Twin Cast
Talent Grade: A
A woman on the platform stared at the result. Then at her own hands. Then she laughed.
The recruiters were already moving.
One started with, "We can provide a private residence and-"
"Double it!" someone else shouted.
"You don’t know what the number is!"
"DOUBLE IT ANYWAY!"
Ren liked the confidence.
The woman barely made it down the steps before representatives surrounded her.
Then the noise died. Not gradually. One second Aldern was shouting. The next, half the square had gone quiet.
Ren looked toward the assessment platform.
A thin player with silver hair stood beside a crystal pouring white-gold light into the sky.
Talent: Perfect Casting
Talent Grade: S
For one full second, nobody seemed to know what to do with that.
Then civilization ended.
"S-RANK!"
"CLIP IT!"
"WHO IS HE?"
"GET HIS NAME!"
A man climbed onto another player’s shoulders and started shouting an Earth phone number.
Someone else yelled, "DON’T SIGN ANYTHING WITHOUT A LAWYER!"
A woman pushed through the crowd.
"WE PROVIDE THE LAWYER!"
"THAT’S WORSE!"
The S-rank player vanished beneath recruiters, spectators and people trying to get close enough for a recording.
Ren watched the chaos for another second.
A house for B. Private negotiation for A and S.
He would settle for something useful.
"Next."
Ren looked up.
His turn.
He stepped onto the platform.
The clerk waiting there was an older woman with grey hair braided down her back and a dark blue tabard bearing the crest of Arvane. Unlike the players, she seemed completely unimpressed by the S-rank riot happening nearby.
"Hand on the crystal."
Ren placed his palm against it. The surface was cool.
Beginning Talent Assessment.
Please remain still.
Light spread beneath his fingers.
White first. Then blue.
Then white-gold.
Same color as the S-rank. That has to be good.
For a heartbeat, the crystal blazed brighter than any of the others.
Then the light collapsed inward.
Black spread through the crystal from beneath Ren’s palm, swallowing every trace of color. A second later, it went dark.
Ren stared at it.
That seems less good.
A window appeared.
Talent Assessment Complete.
Name: Vagrant
Talent Grade:
Talent: