[Chapter II.I] Levelling Up, Growing Stronger

You’re walking around the town square, looking for a disorderly to rough up, but there is a grand total of four people in the square today. There’s you, and then three old ladies knitting sweaters in a stall (hey, it might not seem busy, but that’s what happens when the plague hits every dozen years or so). One of them starts to get up, her joints cracking audibly as she straightens her back from a hunched position to a respectable 45-degree angle.

“You there! Young man! Escort me home,” she says, waving at you.

“Ah, you’re being disorderly. Causing a ruckus and being a public nuisance, if I do say so myself,” you reply. A Paladin has many duties, and you have decided to shirk all of them, even if it does mean beating up an old lady for fun and (minimal) profit.

“Fuck that shit, I’ll have your head instead!” the old hag calls out. She chases after you, waving her walking stick in the air, and you take off, running for your life. Those walking sticks hurt.

“Ay, ay, slow down for the road,” she yells as you approach the street. “We look both ways before we cross! It’s a dangerous world out there! See, look, there’s a horse cart!”

She’s right, you guess, because the horse cart blows the stop sign at the intersection at a thrilling 5 miles per hour and intersects with your moving body, sending you to the ground.

Fuck, that hurt. If only you had a few more hit points. You dust yourself off, and confront the driver, because boy oh boy has he done wrong.

“You have violated the law of the land! Speeding is a civil offense punishable by spending two days in the stocks!” you declare. Thankfully, you don’t have to recite this person’s rights to him—Miranda won’t be born for another few centuries, if he ever decides to show up at all.

Just as you finish speaking, a harsh red light envelopes you, and a noise like a choir of chainsaw-nails sawing through chalkboards blares through the air. The driver somehow hums along in key even as you cover your ears, until… You feel a surge of power rush through you!

HELLO a voice booms. Is it… could it be…? YES OF COURSE IT IS ME, THE DARK LORD ELMO

“Heavens Above!” you exclaim, falling to the ground and grovelling. The faceplant doesn’t hurt that much, because concrete pavements haven’t been invented yet.

YES, YOU LOT WILL GET AROUND TO INVENTING THAT IN FIVE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN YEARS the voice booms. BUT AT ANY RATE, I HAVE COME TO OFFER MY CONGRATULATIONS TO YOU. WELL DONE ON LEVELLING UP.

“What does that mean?” you wonder aloud, but somehow, you already know. You feel stronger, as if you could deal more damage, and healthier, as if you could take more damage, and… something else. A stench of black **** that emanates from you, like a passive ability that will deal damage to enemies for every turn you spend in combat.

“So… I levelled up from giving somebody a speeding ticket?” you ask, a little confused.

NO, SILLY, YOU LEVELLED UP FROM KILLING ALL THOSE MAIDEN THIEVES AND BRINGING THEM TO DIVINE JUSTICE! IT IS JUST THAT MY FRIEND BIG BIRD WAS OVER AND I FORGOT TO LEVEL YOU UP UNTIL NOW, the voice exclaims.

Fair enough. And with that, the unearthly chainsaw-nails shut up, the light dissipates, and soon you’re left staring at an empty horsecart. Now, where has that criminal of a driver run off to?