A Gamer's Guide To Beating The Tutorial

“...You must be within fifty meters of myself or one of my party members at all times; you may only touch goblins with explicit consent or permission from me or one of my party members; you have to wear clothes that cover your chest and groin area at all times; you must follow the Server Alliance rules; and you have to follow the commands issued by myself, my party members or affiliated authorities.” Emil took a deep breath, releasing it as an even deeper sigh. “If you want to disagree with any of those, I’m honestly open to it. I was able to refuse a few of the stranger ones, like not being allowed to use your skills without permission or not being allowed within twenty meters of children, but the rest…”

Kitty shrugged. “Nah, it’s fine.”

Emil looked up at Kitty from where he sat at his desk. “You’re… fine?”

Shaking his head, Kitty leaned back atop the bed, stretching out his legs as he did. “Yeah. It’s alright.” In the time it took for Emil to pick his jaw off the floor, Kitty continued, saying, “Well, I mean… Having to wear clothes is kind of inconvenient, but it’s to hide this, right?” He pointed at his brand. “Most humans look the same to goblins, but a brand like this is sure to turn heads. It makes sense.”

“And the others…?”

“I don’t mind,” Kitty said and popped a garnut into his mouth. “Just don’t command me to sing and dance the tarantella and we’ll be fine.”

“...Right. I doubt it’ll have to come to that,” Emil said, looking down at the book in his hand. Another one of the medical textbooks he’d been allowed to borrow. The knowledge was outdated, but the guidelines of how to use healing magic alongside more standard techniques was useful. He looked back up at Kitty. “I know I said this before, but, just to reiterate… If you don’t follow this, they will contact the Server Alliance, the authorities, and anyone else who might be interested in the whereabouts of a dead-on-sight criminal outlaw.”

“I know,” Kitty replied. The look on Emil’s face made him chuckle. “Really, it’s fine. I don’t mind it. If anything, I’m excited! I get to hang out with you all day, and help you out with all manner of things while still getting further along in clearing the floor.” Triumphant, he held up one of the assorted nuts. “And I get free grub! What more could I possibly ask for?”

“Freedom?” Emil suggested.

“Overrated,” Kitty said dismissively. “Look at us, Moleman. We’re the lapdogs of gods, kings and aristocrats. The both of us are right here in this room because someone else waved their hand and sent us here to do away with the plague. I’m sure there’s a lot of goodwill and nice thoughts behind it, but…” He cracked a nut between his teeth. “We sure aren’t free.”

“That’s one way of looking at it, I guess.”

Rolling over, Kitty flopped down to let his head dangle over the edge of the bed, his upside-down head facing Emil. “Isn’t it nice, though? Whatever happens, there’s always someone else to blame—someone to pin it all on. I met some dragons, and they said the same thing. Sure, they pretended to be bitter about it, but deep down they really enjoyed not looking the truth in the eye. Cowardly as they were, they refused to face the final and most horrible truth of freedom—that no matter how controlled and restricted we are…” Kitty’s blank, empty smile, when upside down, appeared all too similar to a frown. “We are always completely and utterly free.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Emil leaned back in his chair. “Been thinking about that one for a while?”

“I have.” Rolling back upright, Kitty grinned wide, showing off his sharp teeth. “Don’t tell me you never think about free will?”

“I’d love to consider the full ramifications of guilt, control and choice, but I’m way too busy trying to keep a city from collapsing on itself.”

“Fair enough. Though, if you ever want to philosophize, I would be happy to—”

There was a knock at the door. They shared a look. Without saying anything, Emil put his book back on his desk, stood up and answered the door. “Oh, hey Sully. A bit late for visits, isn’t it?” If the two of them hadn’t known each other for close to three years now, Emil might have felt some kind of embarrassment at meeting her in nothing but his pajamas and nightcap.

Ursula gave him a small smile in greeting before craning her neck to look over his shoulder, her eyes falling on Kitty where he laid splayed out on Emil’s bed, perusing a book on wormkeeping. Leaning back out, she met Emil’s gaze again. “Actually, I’m here to give Kitty something.”

“To give him…?” Memory hit Emil like a sledgehammer to the skull. “No, wait, hang on—”

Kitty tore past him in an instant, his face open and bright with glee as he replaced Emil in front of Ursula. “A gift? For me?! Oh, boy! What is it? Is it a—”

Her closed fist smashed into his face, sending the feather-light man flying across the room to dramatically crash into one of Emil’s many bookcases, the bookcase thankfully avoiding toppling, though still dumping a few books on top of Kitty’s head. Standing on the side of the violence, it took a moment for Emil to properly pull himself together, and then another to figure out what the best course of action was.

Running to Kitty’s side, he checked if he was alright, at the same time as he turned to Ursula. “Sully! That’s no way to treat a—”

“He’s not my friend,” she said, blowing on her fist. “He isn’t my comrade either, or my associate, or my coworker, or even my acquaintance. He’s my eyesore.”

“Still, that’s no reason to—”

Kitty pulled himself up. “What was that for?” he asked. But there was nothing accusatory in his voice. It was simply inquisitive.

“Mainly for making Mole worry for weeks on end, but also because you’re a prick and deserve it.” Leaning herself on the doorframe, her eyes sharpened into a scowl. “The rest of your sins can’t be repaid with something as small as a punch.”

“That makes sense,” Kitty commented, dusting himself off. Emil winced at the distinct sound of fractured bones scraping together.

“Hey, Kitty, let me—”

Before he could even suggest the utilization of his healing spells, Kitty bit off three of his own fingers, barely chewing them before swallowing, the digits gone in a flash. And then, the scraping sound was gone. But the fingers…

For one, the open wounds were barely bleeding. Rather than blood spurting as it usually does, the deep-red liquid seeped out, thick and slimy like motor oil. Absently, clearly without thinking about it in the least, Kitty licked at the wounds, swallowing down the foul blood. Then, when he let his hand fall again, the raw wounds had been sealed.

“Was there anything else you wanted, party-member-number-two?” Kitty asked casually. “I don’t mind if you want to beat me some more; I’ve got plenty of resistances to be trained. My fracture protection goes up the most if you completely grind my bones to dust while still in my body, so I think if you pummel me with a sledgehammer for a few days I’d probably get it to immunity. Hm. I wonder if fracture immunity would cause my bones to always be broken…?”

Color drained from Ursula’s face. She turned to Emil. Since Emil was in a similar state, albeit more jaded, he could do nothing but shake his head at her. She tried to draw herself up. “If you do something like that to him again, I’ll raise your resistances so far you’ll wish you could still die.”

“Sounds perfect!” Kitty said with a smile and a thumbs-up. The merriment quickly left his face as he realized his error. “Ah, uh, not that I’ll do something like that again. Really, if I had a repeat of that, I might just try to do something similar to myself. I don’t know what I’d do without this guy.”

Drawn between the urge to feel worried and the relief inherent to realizing that Kitty was still just as honest as always, Emil eventually decided to feel somewhat honored to be thought of in such a way by his dear friend.

Ursula, on the other hand, drew back again, the stinging feeling of being defeated once more souring her disposition. “I don’t know what you’d do without him, either. Maybe, if I’m lucky enough to experience a night terror tonight, I’ll be able to get a sample.”

Saying nothing more, Ursula left, slamming the door behind her.

The room fell awfully silent. The two friends shared a look.

“Was she always this harsh?”

‘Were you always this fine with being insulted?’ Emil felt the need to ask, though a more concerned worry for his comrade took over. After a moment of consideration, he said, “I have to go talk to her. I’ll be back in a moment, and since it’s quite late, you can very well get ready for going to bed. There’s a pink pajamas set in the cupboard, third drawer from the bottom. I’ll be right back!” With Kitty doing a mock salute in reply, Emil felt confident as he hurried out of the room and rushed down the corridor, catching Ursula right as she was heading back into her own room. He regained his breath for a moment before speaking. “Ursula, I’m sorry, could we talk for a second?”

“About what?” She frowned as he opened his mouth to answer, speaking in his stead to say, “Your serial-killing auto-cannibal ‘friend?’” She shot him a sneer, though he knew well enough that it wasn’t really for him. “Someday, that man’s going to hurt you. Badly. And I’m not sure I want to be around when it happens.”

He put his arm around her, and despite the tension in her shoulders, she still found the strength to relax.

She drew a hissing breath. “Fuck. Fuck. Am I the insane one here? He’s eaten children, Mole. Children! What kind of lunatic—” Her jaw snapped shut. “And—and you know what’s worse?” A laugh broke its way out of her throat, only for her to smother it with her hand, a terrified look on her face. When she pulled her hand away, it was trembling. “He’s funny. That thing with pummeling him with a sledgehammer? I almost laughed. Oh, God, I really did. And it’s both worse and funnier that he was fully serious! That he just…” Allowing herself to lean into him, she wiped at her face. “Damn it. I hate him, and I hate being near him, because… Somehow, it feels like if I hang around him too much, I’ll end up—God help me—liking him.” Her eyes glimmered fearfully in the dim light. “And that scares me worse than everything he’s done.”

He held her for a second. Not knowing what to say, he kept his silence.

She took a few breaths. “But… you’re right. He can help us. Hell, I know you hate that skill you described, but if it can let people give their hearts to save others, I can think of two or three people who’d volunteer at the drop of a dime.”

“Linne, you mean?” Emil said.

She chuckled. “Yeah, Linne, of course. I never was one for euthanasia, but he’s starting to convince me. And, I mean… Imagine if, through your death, you could not only save someone else, but even bring them back to their physical peak. Like an organ transplant, but better. I get it.” Her eyes lingered on him for a moment. “But, at the same time… Once you open that door, there’s no real coming back.”

“Yeah,” Emil said. “Once you start, you can’t stop.”

“We’ll see, I guess,” she said, sighing. Then, abruptly, she shook her head and clambered out of his embrace. “Right! You’re right.” She smiled at him, the shadows of whatever had gripped her before fading from her eyes. “Thanks, Mole. Honestly, I don’t know where I’d be without you, either.”

“Well, if you’re both going to be like that, then I don’t know where I’d be without you all, either,” Emil replied, patting her on the cheek playfully. “Though, knowing the world, I’m sure I’d be alright. And so would you. And Kitty, too.” He grinned back at her. “For now, though, we all need a bit of sleep, isn’t that right?”

She giggled at him, slapping his hand away. “We do, all too much. I’m glad I don’t have to get up as early as you and Jazz, but… Yeah. Sleep tight, Emil. And…” Hesitating, she turned to look down the hallway they’d come from, only to find it empty. She looked back at him, a sheepish smile on her face. “Tell Kitty I’m sorry about punching him.”

Smiling warmly, Emil said, “Will do.”

They bade each other good night, headed to their own chambers, and tucked in.

When Emil entered his own room, he found Kitty passed out on the floor, wearing a nightcap on his head and two on his hands, for some reason. During the course of a minute or so, Emil simply surveyed his room. Strangely enough, before this moment, he had yet to consider where Kitty would be sleeping. It would be awfully inconsiderate to let him sleep on the floor, carpeted though it may be. Likewise, it would be cruel of him to force the mayor’s servants to haul a bed or a mattress to his room at this time of day. Moving Kitty to someone else's room—or, God forbid, Emil himself staying in another room—would be a level of abandonment Kitty could scarcely handle.

In that case, he supposed, among all the options, regardless of the questionable nature of it…

Reaching out his hand, Emil pointed at Kitty, using his airball spell to lift his friend into the air and depositing him into the bed, making sure to put him under and not atop the covers. Blowing out the candles, he joined his friend with little reluctance.

Sleep came to him like an old friend, and he welcomed it warmly.