Salem

He scoffed at Nymoria's playful display with some amusement. "If you'd had said that to me when we first met, I'd be none the wiser." There was something to be admired in her spontaneous, light-hearted banter. The way she found such simple joy in basic interactions, well, it felt fairly foreign to him. Every day in the waking world had felt like an uphill battle with little to be enjoyed. Funny how a setting disposed to combat seemed less dreadful by comparison. Passing his volumes to the clerk, Salem purchased them both before exiting the store. "This is more than I've done in a day for

He'd all but returned to his search before Nymoria added further context to the brief reply. A universal translator was beyond practical, it was revolutionary. Of course, any publisher would want to disseminate their game as far and wide as possible. Allowing users to select their preferred language had been accomplished decades prior. The true achievement came from how this one was developed and implemented. Live translation. To every language. It seemed comical to regard with such awe considering how many other technological wonders he'd already encountered. Tucking the philosophy book

Dull lanterns illuminated a low-lying ceiling as trickling candlelight licked the edges of hardcover books. A few moments proved necessary to override his mind's instinctual alarm to the potential fire hazard. Trailing in after Nymoria, Salem soon branched off to investigate a nearby nook. Labels seemed absent from the warped shelves, giving a much more eclectic feel to the collection's sorting, or lack thereof. He almost preferred it that way. There was a certain adventure to be had in combing through titles to uncover the few that truly called to one's own curiosities. Ears only half-li

A curt nod indicated that he'd heard her response and acknowledged an understanding. We're living in similar situations then. He honestly hadn't expected that. The way she'd offered to help him find a home...would it have been more suitable than her own accommodations? Passing through such picturesque neighborhoods was beginning to feel more bleak by comparison. He opted to mull over Nymoria's rebuttal, taking each point into consideration as the cadence of footsteps carried them closer to their destination. "You're correct in saying they were built with a purpose, although it differs fro

"Yes", he quickly agreed, following behind her as they exited the cafe. Returning to the streets rekindled a certain excitement within Salem. Unlike the real world, venturing out to such unfamiliar surroundings felt rewarding rather than disappointing, invigorating instead of taxing. He would chalk most of that up to novelty. Such rare feelings were often short-lived, at least in his experience. Still, there was something intentional about how the town was structured. With roads jutting out from the city centre like spokes on a wheel, it felt as if the world around him was calling out from eve

Cardinal, he took special notice of the reoccurring detail, I remember seeing that on one of the starter screens. Is that...some sort of transcribing device? Figuring it best not to inquire about something he could investigate later, Salem focused instead on hearing out Nymoria. "Well you haven't exactly given me anything to dislike, yet.", he stated plainly, "We must have different definitions for what makes someone 'a lot of work'." Sliding back his chair, Salem rose to his feet, lifting his mug away like a prize from a claw machine. He stood there silently for a moment before sparing a

Salem watched quietly as Nymoria appeared to wither and withdraw into herself. That seemed...unusual for her, and in stark contrast to the abundant enthusiasm she exuded mere moments ago. He'd said something wrong, or at the very least, chosen his words carelessly. I only brought attention to the fact this is fake. She looks sadder remembering that. Eyebrows furrowed slightly as he mulled over unforeseen implications. He'd thought it important to not get carried away in the fantasy of it all. At the end of the day, he...was paralyzed. She was deaf and mute. Callously, he wondered, What wo

The topic swiftly shifted to one of the shop they were visiting. Salem took a few additional sips of his coffee as Nymoria cataloged its discovery like it was some sort of scientific breakthrough. It was endearing to see how captivated she became with simple things, especially in a world teeming with whimsy. At least, he assumed there were more fantastical creatures and places to see on the floors above this one. Still, the discussion made him reconsider his relationship to this reality. As his gaze drifted from the streets to the faces of passing players, he wondered what it would even

Something seemed to stir in Nymoria as the woman sat down her items and began to sign towards Salem, My...situation makes it hard for me to engage with many people. I was left to...do what I could. She gave pause before adding, As you can imagine, I am not the most reliable member in a party when it comes to combat. Or anything, really. Communication is key in partying, right? Humans really were uniquely capable of getting in their own way, and he wasn't impervious to that. In truth, Salem resonated closely with what Nymoria had described. Such an impairment made it all too easy to feel i

Salem awkwardly accepted the chunk of muffin from Nymoria. Several small crumbs flaked off from its surface, falling and fizzling out of existence as he raised the rest of it to his mouth. It tasted as he would have expected, its texture much more nuanced by comparison. I don't understand how our senses work here, he reflected, It makes sense that we'd be able to taste foods that we're familiar with, that's just like dreaming. But what about things we've never tried before? How would our bodies know how to interpret those? He'd have to give it more thought later on. Where have you spent t

The small cafe seemed a place of respite in a bustling sea of NPCs and battle-hungry players. Salem had only been in The Town of Beginnings for a few days now, but that time had proven enough to acquaint him with its hectic atmosphere. In a way, it reminded him of his visits to Tokyo, albeit a much older and more fantastical version of the neon metropolis. He did his best to keep up with Nymoria as the player darted around bodies and obstacles to reach the entrance to the establishment. It seemed welcoming enough, though the noticeable lack of occupants made Salem acutely worried about th

All he could do was offer another nod of affirmation. There was no reason for her to thank him, but she extended gratitude in spite of that. If she acts this indebted to everyone, she's gonna be taken advantage of., he found himself assuming. Maybe that's unfair., came the immediate reflection. It seemed nonsensical to praise her capabilities one moment only to ridicule them the next. He just couldn't shake the feeling that she was someone who needed protection. She seemed...too bright for the world, too uplifting with the gravity of their current circumstances. The instinct was unfounded and

A sequence of softly-heralded alerts tumbled through his interface as Nymoria signed their titles to him. For a brief moment, he felt overwhelmed, or perhaps it was the pangs of exasperation. Are we meant to do all of these at once?, he grumbled as each menu was expanded to skim the details. Looks like you can do them as you wish., the female player had speculated, Maybe...together? Salem looked up from the text to regard her as she had finished posing the question. Unless you do not want to do it with me. I would understand. You must have other friends here to find., she quickly deferred

Salem felt a similar excitement as the two of them swiftly translated swathes of symbols into recognizable letters. He appreciated the strategy of it all. There was an infectious nature to the challenge, an unexpected deviation from the usual adrenaline of combat. At the very least, battles that were waged from the other side of a computer screen. Tilting his head, he followed her examinations of the text. Line by line, it was beginning to sound like... "I swear to god, if this translates into a riddle --", he remarked to her with a sarcastic smile. Casting his speculation aside, he

Nymoria immediately became immersed in the challenge of it all, her hands tracing an invisible line in the air as her mind began to unravel the code. Rather than lurking over her shoulder, Salem instead took a moment to examine their picturesque surroundings. The grotto's ceiling was dappled with columns of stalactites that occasionally dripped into the deep cerulean spring below. Countless ripples of refracted light undulated across the limestone walls while others still spilled and twisted across his body like some sort of lovecraftian horror. Maybe I was wrong about this world., he marveled

To: Nymoria From: Salem There's probably a lot that I don't have experience with. I woke up two days ago. He took pause to consider if there was more to add to that statement. A change in their path prompted him to send it as is. Only a matter of seconds lapsed before the two of them meandered around and into a flooded basin. At the cavern's center rested a singular elder tree. Even from afar, one could appreciate how the cascade of roots had tirelessly snaked around a pile of boulders to prop itself beneath a beam of light. If that's not the most videogame-looking waypoin

Nymoria seemed uncertain in how to respond. After a look of consideration, she signed, Not a lot of information, sadly. Could have been given everything about the quest, for the right price. Beyond my price range though... Like a micro-transaction then? Seems odd to stunt progress so early on with a paywall, especially if we're not exchanging real currency... "Who do you pay?", he asked while she was still facing him. It seemed an important subject to be informed on, especially if the majority of quests were unlocked that way. The pair continued searching the forest floor for any sig

He had caught a glimpse of something fleeting, a resistance to his touch, a factor left uncalculated. Whatever hint of fear that he identified was quickly circumvented by a wave of...laughter? For what felt like far too long, Salem stood there, engrossed in embarrassment as the woman keeled over and nearly hacked out a lung at his expense. Probably the better alternative, he reassured himself through a veil of crimson, At least she hasn't run away or attacked me. He did his best to crack a candid smile as she regained her composure and began to sign. You did get your point across, but...s

Salem could feel his muscles constrict as the woman moved toward him with a deadpanned stare. As moments passed, he quickly understood why the reflex was misplaced. She's reading my lips. Under any normal circumstance, the limitation would be easy to identify. His condition in the real world had made him more receptive to that. But in SAO? Isn't the game...supposed to fix that? A frustrated flurry of signs implied his question had lacked the appropriate etiquette. Yes. Can understand you. A bit. If looking at face. Hard to hear. Impossible sometimes., she responded with flushed features.

An icy glance shot her way as Salem flinched in turn. It wasn't like him to startle easily, but in some ways, this world had put him more at a disadvantage than the waking one. Another player., he quickly determined. Tension gradually bled from his features as he inspected her appearance. Small. School-girlish, docile., were his initial instincts. Her hand lifted to offer a candid greeting before cycling through a series of gestures. You. Here. Alone?, came the projection of a feminine voice. Its cadence, although soft, sounded off, like a computer's rigid recreation of human speech.

Scents of The Wild: Keepers of Nature Sticks snapped beneath the soles of the solitary player as he made his way to a nearby forest. Still new to the circumstances of this simulated world, Salem found himself in search of substance, perhaps more importantly, something to do. If this game was like any other he'd played, he'd have the opportunity to beef up his stats in a matter of days. Advised against combat, he instead sought to hone his skills through other means. Best not to leave the first floor until I've completed some quests., Salem cautioned before adding, Seems restri

Salem stared at the notification, blinking a few times before giving a slight bow to Elora. I have no idea how much this 'col' will get me, but "Thank you.", he said anyway, "If this is enough to move out of the inn, I appreciate your generosity." Though, he continued to speculate, I'm not sure she can afford to hand out this much currency to every player she encounters. "Let's get this quest finished.", he ushered them to return to the NPC's establishment. Zackariah greeted them cordially, his attitude still optimistic in the odd hours of evening. After being prompted to cast all the mat

Salem's hand reached to remove a bulbous purple flower from the corner of the cottage's foundation. Momentary pause soon gave way to a triumphant alert. ALL ITEMS GATHERED! The translucent notification quickly faded, its fleeting congratulations immediately curtailed by a reminder to return to the quest-giver. "That was remarkably tedious for an introductory quest.", he commented dryly as a hand waved to dismiss the menu. "Yeah -- but they say it's necessary, I guess -- I don't know. Just one of those things you gotta slog through to get to the meat of this game."

Salem carefully knelt down to pluck one of the many plants from the interactable flowerbed. Unlike many of his previous attempts, this item promptly left the patch of soil and entered the pockets of his digital inventory. Seems like we just needed to find the correct materials. That, or the system is being a prick and railroading me into "earning" my reward. "What's that? Number four?" "Yeah, only one more to go.", Elora reassured, "It blows that this has to drag on for so long. At least now you know why I insisted to help." "You can't even help." "Well -- obviously, but it's be

Salem observed as the overeager elf stooped down to assume a ready stance. "GO!", she commanded as her heels sprung from the dirt. Dust billowed around them in patchy plumes as slender legs carried her forward with surprising agility. He swiftly followed suit, knees hinging with a certain stiffness he hadn't recognized before. Each impact sent a dull shockwave from the base of his foot up to the root of his spine. This is more unfamiliar than I expected, he assessed rather robotically, I can feel my muscles contracting, the warmth of blood coursing through my legs. He caught a