Post by Deleted on Feb 11, 2013 0:23:26 GMT
The dungeon was that of a simple cave, which stood tall and out of place amongst the bright scenery surrounding it. Critic gazed upwards and noticed saw some information for the dungeon suspended in the air, detailing the level of difficulty and enemy strength along with length and loot drops. Critic noticed that it was sitting at level 40, a relatively high level. It confused him that a veteran would be asking for help from a questionable source such as himself.
Critic leaned against the wall and waited for the arrival of this 'Helen' who was nowhere in sight.
Still no sign.
Critic took another look at the map and noticed that the quest marker was pointing to a location within the dungeon. She must have ran out of supplies, and called for help while still inside for fear of being attacked if she moved. Well, that made sense.
The black called, so Critic headed inside, pushing past the threshold which separated the over world from the danger of the cave.
As he moved downwards, the light from outside slowly fade to be replaced with ominous torches, to which moths and fireflies gathered around. The sound of the burning echoed into the unknowable abyss, as did his cautious footsteps. No monsters attacked him, oddly, as he could clearly see bright yellow eyes watching him from the shadows. He saw them blink, watching in calm anticipation. Critic got sick of their stare and smashed his fist into one of the eyes, hoping to kill it before they ambushed him or something. However, what he hit was solid rock. He took a closer look and noticed that the eyes hadn't reacted in any form. He bent down close to them and engaged in a staring contest of sorts. Yes, it seemed they had a set pattern to their blinking, 5 seconds between each blink, and were merely a part of the wall texture.
Critic smashed his fists into the other eyes, causing huge echoes which bounced off all the walls, infusing the cave with the sounds of his rage.
"Why the hell would they try to focus so much on giving this world presence and realism then pull such immersion breaking **** like that? My lord! Play test your game with actual players, not lazy designers for crying out loud!" He yelled angrily as he stomped down the path in an angry sulk. This cave didn't feel scary anymore.
At the end of his effortless trek He finally saw the quest marker in real time, as opposed to the red dot visible on his mini map. It was in the centre of a round room, which appeared to be devoid of enemies. Critic just wanted to get this over and done with so he immediately walked over to the centre to see what his objective was.
Before he had time to inspect what was actually an empty space on the ground, suddenly a wall of flame erupted all around him, going straight up into the ceiling. It was claustrophobic and touching the flame was incredibly painful, odd, considering the online world didn't usually utilize pain filters in most software on account of users finding them painful. Then again, he was a virus, and he knew what this was. A fire wall, which at this point seemed to be his only weakness.
"Helen! You set me up whoever you are!" He yelled angrily, as he tried bashing his fists against the firewall, ignoring the pain. He quickly scolded himself for making such a stupid decision.
"Yes, well, you had it coming." Said a voice, of a medium, feminine pitch whilst still remaining powerful.
A girl stepped out of the shadows, who seemed to be wearing thick leather clothes which fit within the context of the game. She looked tired.
"I had to wait a while for you to show up. Now then, please remain still while I deconstruct your coding." She said as she opened up a menu and began typing.
"Hey, what the h*** do you think your doing? Get out of there!" Critic yelled as he slowly resigned to remaining still.
"You're awfully loud, and surprisingly well programmed for a virus. Mmm..." She looked carefully over the data she was looking at, then back up at Critic.
"Your data is complex for a virus. Please explain why you can speak, and, if you know, tell me who created you." She demanded as she stood back and looked up at him with steely eyes.
Critic explained himself, after all he needed to convince her he wasn't a virus, and he couldn't do so without being completely honest.
"So you're the Virtual Critic... ugh, I hate that guy. You, I guess. But you say he's someone different?" She asked.
"Yeah. He's ruining my show!" Critic exclaimed.
"Really? As I said I'm not a fan but I think he's actually been improving recently, more funny than usual." She responded.
Critic wished that he had eyes to narrow on her in scorn.
"In any case I'm not a virus, so get rid of this damned fire wall!"
Helen pondered over it for a bit, and flicked through the data.
"Looks like I can't delete your data the way I would a normal virus, but this is a good opportunity to get rid of the Virtual Critic..." She mumbled as she began casually separating the data into more easily deletable chunks.
"Now now, Miss Helen. This man is a user, and should be treated as such." Spoke a voice, who walked down into the cave. He clicked his fingers and Critic was free of the firewall.
Helen quickly turned around and stood stiff at the arrival of this person, who stood tall and was lanky of figure.
"Ratatosk, I'm sorry, I was not thinking correctly, please forgive me!" She said in a suddenly more pleading manner.
"Please, do not be afraid. It is outside of my power to inflict any form of punishment upon you." Spoke the newcomer.
He stepped forward, allowing Critic to see him in full view. He looked relatively unimpressive, he had a very long and brown face, which had thick, prickly facial hair and dead looking blue eyes. However when he stared into Critic's blank face Critic could feel him analysing him more than any mortal man should be able to. He turned around, flicking around his short brown cloak around him which served as the only noticeable attire on the man.
"I have business elsewhere. In relation to this matter however I think his coding could be fixed if you take him to the power alteration systems present in both Niflheim and Muspelheim. They're both preset quests that reset stat values and should fix the problem, and it should be much faster than trying to unravel his coding. If you had attempted to delete him from the level of coding you had there, it would have certainly had unforeseeable events on the game. Mmm... besides, I'm sure the other domain matters would find interest in him and his strange predicament. Actually, I could punish you." Said Ratatosk in a tone that didn't seem to change throughout his entire speech.
He waved his hand over Helen's eyes.
"Leveling privileges suspended until Mr Critic is fixed. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Mr Critic, we hope that your stay here on Yggdrasil online will soon be made a pleasant one. Goodbye."
Ratatosk bowed and disappeared from the area.
Helen stood motionless, speechless for a moment. Then she threw her arms up into the air and grabbed a wall, somehow digging into it. She pulled down and it fell apart, like tearing wallpaper, and Critic then found himself back on the green over world plains.
"What..." He began.
"It was just a decoy dungeon I made." Helen explained.
"That would explain the lazy design..."
"Look I'll explain as we move. We've got a long journey ahead of us, so move it goddamn you!" She shouted angrily.
Critic began shuffling along behind Helen, who turned back to look at him.
"Ugh, you know because of you Ratatosk has decided to waste a ton of my valuable time. Please, move along or I'll make this trip a living hell."
Critic sighed and began moving slightly faster.
"So who was that Ratatosk guy...?" He asked.
"I WILL EXPLAIN. LATER. NOW MOVE IT!"
And so Critic moved along, quite moody now that he'd been forced to journey with someone who was quite obnoxious.
As they left, a tint of red formed a smile in the fog that Critic always left behind him in his wake.
Critic leaned against the wall and waited for the arrival of this 'Helen' who was nowhere in sight.
Still no sign.
Critic took another look at the map and noticed that the quest marker was pointing to a location within the dungeon. She must have ran out of supplies, and called for help while still inside for fear of being attacked if she moved. Well, that made sense.
The black called, so Critic headed inside, pushing past the threshold which separated the over world from the danger of the cave.
As he moved downwards, the light from outside slowly fade to be replaced with ominous torches, to which moths and fireflies gathered around. The sound of the burning echoed into the unknowable abyss, as did his cautious footsteps. No monsters attacked him, oddly, as he could clearly see bright yellow eyes watching him from the shadows. He saw them blink, watching in calm anticipation. Critic got sick of their stare and smashed his fist into one of the eyes, hoping to kill it before they ambushed him or something. However, what he hit was solid rock. He took a closer look and noticed that the eyes hadn't reacted in any form. He bent down close to them and engaged in a staring contest of sorts. Yes, it seemed they had a set pattern to their blinking, 5 seconds between each blink, and were merely a part of the wall texture.
Critic smashed his fists into the other eyes, causing huge echoes which bounced off all the walls, infusing the cave with the sounds of his rage.
"Why the hell would they try to focus so much on giving this world presence and realism then pull such immersion breaking **** like that? My lord! Play test your game with actual players, not lazy designers for crying out loud!" He yelled angrily as he stomped down the path in an angry sulk. This cave didn't feel scary anymore.
At the end of his effortless trek He finally saw the quest marker in real time, as opposed to the red dot visible on his mini map. It was in the centre of a round room, which appeared to be devoid of enemies. Critic just wanted to get this over and done with so he immediately walked over to the centre to see what his objective was.
Before he had time to inspect what was actually an empty space on the ground, suddenly a wall of flame erupted all around him, going straight up into the ceiling. It was claustrophobic and touching the flame was incredibly painful, odd, considering the online world didn't usually utilize pain filters in most software on account of users finding them painful. Then again, he was a virus, and he knew what this was. A fire wall, which at this point seemed to be his only weakness.
"Helen! You set me up whoever you are!" He yelled angrily, as he tried bashing his fists against the firewall, ignoring the pain. He quickly scolded himself for making such a stupid decision.
"Yes, well, you had it coming." Said a voice, of a medium, feminine pitch whilst still remaining powerful.
A girl stepped out of the shadows, who seemed to be wearing thick leather clothes which fit within the context of the game. She looked tired.
"I had to wait a while for you to show up. Now then, please remain still while I deconstruct your coding." She said as she opened up a menu and began typing.
"Hey, what the h*** do you think your doing? Get out of there!" Critic yelled as he slowly resigned to remaining still.
"You're awfully loud, and surprisingly well programmed for a virus. Mmm..." She looked carefully over the data she was looking at, then back up at Critic.
"Your data is complex for a virus. Please explain why you can speak, and, if you know, tell me who created you." She demanded as she stood back and looked up at him with steely eyes.
Critic explained himself, after all he needed to convince her he wasn't a virus, and he couldn't do so without being completely honest.
"So you're the Virtual Critic... ugh, I hate that guy. You, I guess. But you say he's someone different?" She asked.
"Yeah. He's ruining my show!" Critic exclaimed.
"Really? As I said I'm not a fan but I think he's actually been improving recently, more funny than usual." She responded.
Critic wished that he had eyes to narrow on her in scorn.
"In any case I'm not a virus, so get rid of this damned fire wall!"
Helen pondered over it for a bit, and flicked through the data.
"Looks like I can't delete your data the way I would a normal virus, but this is a good opportunity to get rid of the Virtual Critic..." She mumbled as she began casually separating the data into more easily deletable chunks.
"Now now, Miss Helen. This man is a user, and should be treated as such." Spoke a voice, who walked down into the cave. He clicked his fingers and Critic was free of the firewall.
Helen quickly turned around and stood stiff at the arrival of this person, who stood tall and was lanky of figure.
"Ratatosk, I'm sorry, I was not thinking correctly, please forgive me!" She said in a suddenly more pleading manner.
"Please, do not be afraid. It is outside of my power to inflict any form of punishment upon you." Spoke the newcomer.
He stepped forward, allowing Critic to see him in full view. He looked relatively unimpressive, he had a very long and brown face, which had thick, prickly facial hair and dead looking blue eyes. However when he stared into Critic's blank face Critic could feel him analysing him more than any mortal man should be able to. He turned around, flicking around his short brown cloak around him which served as the only noticeable attire on the man.
"I have business elsewhere. In relation to this matter however I think his coding could be fixed if you take him to the power alteration systems present in both Niflheim and Muspelheim. They're both preset quests that reset stat values and should fix the problem, and it should be much faster than trying to unravel his coding. If you had attempted to delete him from the level of coding you had there, it would have certainly had unforeseeable events on the game. Mmm... besides, I'm sure the other domain matters would find interest in him and his strange predicament. Actually, I could punish you." Said Ratatosk in a tone that didn't seem to change throughout his entire speech.
He waved his hand over Helen's eyes.
"Leveling privileges suspended until Mr Critic is fixed. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Mr Critic, we hope that your stay here on Yggdrasil online will soon be made a pleasant one. Goodbye."
Ratatosk bowed and disappeared from the area.
Helen stood motionless, speechless for a moment. Then she threw her arms up into the air and grabbed a wall, somehow digging into it. She pulled down and it fell apart, like tearing wallpaper, and Critic then found himself back on the green over world plains.
"What..." He began.
"It was just a decoy dungeon I made." Helen explained.
"That would explain the lazy design..."
"Look I'll explain as we move. We've got a long journey ahead of us, so move it goddamn you!" She shouted angrily.
Critic began shuffling along behind Helen, who turned back to look at him.
"Ugh, you know because of you Ratatosk has decided to waste a ton of my valuable time. Please, move along or I'll make this trip a living hell."
Critic sighed and began moving slightly faster.
"So who was that Ratatosk guy...?" He asked.
"I WILL EXPLAIN. LATER. NOW MOVE IT!"
And so Critic moved along, quite moody now that he'd been forced to journey with someone who was quite obnoxious.
As they left, a tint of red formed a smile in the fog that Critic always left behind him in his wake.
