Chapter 2:
The Game’s God and the Real Me
I ENDED UP WRITING a long prophecy for my villagers, just to see if they could understand even one fragment of it. If they could, this game had the potential to make history.
“My devoted followers, I am the God of Fate. My miracle delivered you safely from the monster attack so that you might live peaceful and happy lives in the village you will build here. From this day forth, I shall impart unto you one message each day. Follow my commandments and thrive; disobey them at your peril! Your first task is to fell trees to build yourselves some shelter.”
I didn’t like writing in such a pretentious way, but I was God, wasn’t I? Or at least, a god. And it was kinda fun—I’d planned to just write whatever, since they wouldn’t understand anyway, but I got so into it that I even checked my work for typos. I shook my head wryly as I pressed the enter key.
The book in Chem’s hands lit up. She hurried to open it.
“So it was He who performed that miracle earlier… Lord, thank you!” Chem dropped to her knees and put her hands together, facing toward the sky. “Everybody! The God of Fate has sent us a message!”
Chem seemed awfully surprised for someone whose job was to take messages from God. The villagers gathered to peer at the book. I waited eagerly for their reactions.
Gams and Rodice stared at it in astonishment, their eyes wide.
“What does it say? Neither Carol nor I can read,” said Lyra sheepishly.
“We can’t read!” Carol echoed happily.
“I can only read some of it,” said Gams. “It’s a little complicated in parts. Chem, could you read it for us?”
“But Gams…” Chem began, but then she nodded. “That’s a good idea, Gams. I’ll read it aloud.”
Judging from Chem’s reaction, Gams was only pretending to be bad at reading, probably so Lyra and Carol didn’t feel bad. He was a pretty quiet guy, but it seemed like he had a good heart. I’d hated him a little at first for having so much going for him, but I found myself warming up to him.
I liked how much time this game was spending on tiny details. Some people might say the pacing was too slow, but I liked this kind of character development. I wasn’t one of those gamers who wanted to skip straight to the action.
Chem took a deep breath and read my message to the others word for word. I wasn’t too impressed with just that. It probably wasn’t difficult from a programming standpoint to have a character repeat exactly what I wrote.
“The Lord saved us! He cares for us! What a joy it is to be alive!” said Chem.
“And He’ll speak to us every day! Oh, Lord, thank you!”
Rodice and his wife fell to their knees beside Chem. Carol, too—though I wasn’t sure she understood what she was doing. Gams closed his eyes and bowed his head in silent prayer.
“No way…” I muttered.
They were reacting as though they’d understood every word I’d written. This game seemed way too advanced. It was really in its own league—unlike anything I’d ever encountered. I’d used apps that could answer simple questions and search for things on the Internet for you, but I doubted they could understand something so complex. Maybe the game had pre-scripted scenes based on the kinds of messages people were likely to write and I’d triggered one?
“If the God of Fate says we must build shelter here, let us do so!” said Gams. “Let’s get chopping.”
Or maybe these characters really did understand everything I’d written.
“Any trees we fell will be too green to use for some time,” said Rodice. “They’ll need to be shaped and dried.”
I was surprised by this turn of the conversation. A normal game would leave out those details and let you turn wood into housing at the click of a button. Just how realistic was The Village of Fate trying to be?
“Must we really dry out the wood?” Chem asked exactly what was on my mind.
“Trees have a lot of water in them. If you don’t dry wood before using it, it ends up warping. Even trying to process the wood before drying will cause your finished product all sorts of issues.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.” Chem and I both nodded in understanding at the same time.
That was news to me. So far, I wasn’t doing a very good job of being an omniscient presence.
“The Lord works in mysterious ways. He must know what He’s doing. Why don’t we start by collecting the wood? Even if we can’t use it straight away, we can begin gathering it.”
I’m glad Rodice has faith in me, at least…
They unpacked the cart to fetch their saws and axes, and put the men, Rodice and Gams, in charge of collecting the wood. Meanwhile, the women went off to search for food.
Scrolling the mouse wheel allowed me to zoom in and out. I decided to check out the map. When I scrolled out, I found that most of the map was covered in the fog of war, the only illuminated areas being where my characters worked and a peculiar winding route through the forest. In other words, the map only showed areas my characters had already been.
“Tomorrow, I’ll send someone out to explore.”
I was starting to get frustrated. I couldn’t control the characters, and I couldn’t advance the game—there was no fast-forward option.
“Don’t tell me this game has to be played in real time… Does that mean I gotta wait till tomorrow in real life to send my next message? There’s no way!”
Where was the fun in that?! Sure, it was pleasant enough to watch the individual characters, but I’d hardly call that “playing” a game. I pressed random keys on the keyboard, hoping to make something happen. I must have done something right, because a message appeared.
“As the God of Fate, you can use your Fate Points (FP) to perform various miracles.”
“What are Fate Points?” I asked aloud.
“Fate Points are earned when your villagers’ gratitude towards you increases. Your total FP is displayed in the top right corner of the screen.”