"Roight!" Bruce began. "Oh and no offense, champ?" He looked directly at Santiago, who was sulking. Obviously. "No wukkas, ay? Just showin' off my lil' mate – call him 'Surprise Head-Scratcher' hueh-hueh, too easy! Friends, ay?"
Sean looked at Santiago, who nodded… very nervously.
"Right-on!" Bruce said, actually making the effort to say the letter n cleanly. In fact, it sounded more like his favorite righto – but with a deliberate 'n' slapped at the end. He scanned the group left-to-right and continued, "Now that we have everyone's undivided atten– Oi! Lass!" He stopped at Emma.
Sean whispered, "Psst, Emma!" She looked at him – already pointing a finger – then followed it to look at their instructor.
"There you go. Phone. Down. This. Important. Ay?" Bruce remarked.
Sean cringed internally. He had assumed that putting Santiago back in his place had been some kind of demonstration or threat, but the Australian was seemingly speaking to the Americans like toddlers. Maybe he was right to do so, considering the tantrum about the Mystic class change moments prior. Sean used this moment to familiarize himself with some of the class names over their heads.
Emma was confused, or perhaps reluctant. Michelle suggested from the right side of the room, "Maybe you can unleash Head-Scratcher on the 'emmo-chick,' Boss ?"
"Naur," Bruce responded with a smirk. "Proper lovely head, no need to scratch, but."
Emma frowned at this, but quickly looked at Sean and whispered, "What the– What's a Head–"
"Just put the phone down," he responded quietly and facepalmed. Of course she hadn't been paying attention to the most interesting thing that had happened in the lecture. The phone-stuff was clearly way more important to her.
Emma looked at the instructor, who was still waiting on her, so she rolled her eyes and said out loud, but with deep resentment in her voice, "Fine, whatever." She put the phone on her desk and crossed her arms. The cute 'Emmo' nickname suddenly took on a whole new meaning, and Sean started suspecting that these people might have known each other – or whatever was going on here.
Bruce rubbed his hands and began, "Sweet as, ay! The intro, righto. Reckon start with classes, ay? They're not stuck and you keep changin'– Only a week ago I was an Arcanist, nah yeah? You switch, lose a bunch of XP in the process, but then get a big boost for a chunk of that, recover in a day or two. Say three, to be safe – still no wukkas. That's for endgame: you lot lose nothing, because youse have no XP, but."
He took a few steps around the table and leaned on the edge of it with the orb behind his back. Sean wondered what else that orb could do.
Once half-seated, Bruce continued, "That's the whole game, the real game. One week Arcanist is strong, so you see everybody respeccing to Arcanist. Next week Mystic is OP, everyone jumps on that… or not. Mage goes alright, whatever ." He said it in Emma's tone .
"If I may, why did you switch?" Sean asked quickly.
For a good four seconds, Bruce stared at him as if he had just asked why it was bright during the day.
The instructor offered, "Cuz… summon boosts? They changed arcane transference to grafted minions, so that trick doesn't work, ay?"
Sean nodded, even though he didn't understand a single word of it. Or, maybe, some words, in isolation, but…
Bruce looked to the other end of the room and asked, "Everything clear?" Sean glanced there and there was already a hand up. The instructor waved to the guy next to Santiago. Sean leaned in to read the player tag: Chris, apparently – confirmed by the chalkboard in front of his desk. Sean speculated on what would've happened had they sat in the wrong spots.
"I'm sorry, but… what is transference?" Chris asked – and Sean could not agree more.
Bruce shrugged and dismissed the question: "Won't need to know, but." A tiny pause. "You wanted Mystic too, ay? That's Arcanist stuff, no grafts, no synergy. As you say, no nothin'."
Sean chuckled at the last phrase. The Australian really was trying to speak their language .
Bruce glanced at him with a smile, but promptly calmed down to add: "Look, it's– There's stuff, endgame, lots of it. Haven't got a bloody-cluey about some knight or fighter rubbish across the Wheel , or I guess now Warrior – since I'm Mage now, ay! Reckon, you lot know the Wheel , but?" He glanced left and right, then asked, "Raise hands who don't – just so we know, ay? Nothing wrong 'bout being, well… wrong, or uninformed maybe."
Emma had raised her hand before Bruce finished speaking. It encouraged Sean to join her as he scanned the room: nobody else was eager to raise their hands at first. Then Caleb hesitantly half-raised his arm… and Aiyana, and some other White woman, Ellen apparently.
"That's a lot, so just a recap, ay?" Bruce concluded. "Too easy, but how do I explain…" He looked around as the hands were lowered, then he stepped over to the woodpile and suggested, "Maybe if we arrange some twigs in a circle like–"
Juan raised his hand and interjected, "If I may, boss, there's… up on the ceiling?" He also turned and pointed up with that hand.
Everybody looked up at an elaborate painting of sorts, covering half the high ceiling. A circle divided into sixteen parts: fifteen figures and one empty spot. All intricate and glamorous: fifteen class names, including the ones Sean had noticed in the tags and a few more. He wondered why he had never looked up, or whether anybody had done so – other than Juan.
"Proper brilliant, mate!" Bruce said, then clapped his hands twice and explained, "This is actually too easy, I'll just lie down and not break my neck. You lot sit back and listen up." He actually lay on the floor between the table and the untouched bonfire.
Sean pushed the chair back a little and rested his head on the backrest. It was hard wood, but fairly comfortable.
"Behold the great Wheel of Classes ," the instructor announced. Sean wasn't sure if it had been 'the great' or 'duh grate' due to the pronunciation. Bruce continued, "Start from the top clockwise: Warlock. Not bad, but too much ranged focus – bit of a waste of mana, ay? Got nice unique magic and some Trickster grafts, but single target and terrible for XP or quests – wouldn't poke it with a stick now."
Sean had already studied the paintings of the classes in the top right. First, a sneaky, crouched Warlock figure, almost preparing something. Next, a frail Arcanist sending a lightning bolt from his fingers. Finally, a noble-looking Mage, standing tall. All very magical, wearing robes, casting spells. He glanced around the room and there was one Warlock, who was not happy about this summary.
"Next," Bruce continued, "my all-time fave: Arcanist, oh good times… but nerfed way too much, so right now just a glass cannon. Straight proper DPS with all the arcane rituals, but you won't live long enough to cast a spell, ay? Solution: Mage to the right. Well-rounded, boring, best all-things-magic choice for anyone with half a brain for more than two spells in their head. Apparently most of the META speed-leveling builds start with it these days – always have, though Arcanist was the MVP for non-trivial content." He sighed, then added, "Shame that past tense, ay?"
Sean was already focused on the Mystic on the ceiling. The female, cloaked figure looked more like a support than anything offensive, maintaining a magical shield next to her and laying her free hand on the mage who was casting a ray of fire.
"Mystic is useless so we skip that…" Bruce commented, and there was already a wave of sighs and whispers around the room, the annoyed kind. "What?"
"But…" Sean tried, "what's the META there, why–"
"It's dumb!" the instructor cut him off. "But fine, if you lot insist. There's– It's a magical support class, ay? Buffs, defense, little DPS to speak of. But the advanced spec has this one little detail, where they can link up minion skills to control swarms together. Called Shared Mind, officially, or Necro-orgy. Only Mystics get that, no grafts or rituals." He sighed, then continued, "It was balanced for a while, a bit mid, then some folk noticed the capacity expansion from epic spec allows a bunch of them to handle bosses. Area or instance, whatever you're after – and while a bunch of minions was nice for a meat shield… when they raise an OP boss, well, it's also OP – even without damage support from the Mystic's rubbish skills. Only some defense."
Sean considered the explanation, it kinda made sense.
"But why wasn't it OP before?" Santiago asked from the right.
Bruce lifted his head from the floor to take a look at the Latino. "Because nobody was dumb enough to epic spec a stupid support, ay?" he answered calmly. "Or even thought that raising bosses could be done, too OP, they said. And now it will be nerfed in no time, but everybody's chasing the fad while it lasts. The whole thing'll be done for by the time you grow winglets, but." A small pause. "Roight! That's the second spec for you lot, at forty or thirty-five, don't remember…"
"Forty what, level?" Michelle asked.
Bruce sighed and teased, "What do you think, luv? Years old? Players killed? Of course it's the level! Just don't quote me on that, ask some NPC or whatever, been a while."
Sean had thought it a little odd that 'players killed' ended up as the instructor's second go-to assumption.
"Reddit said it was forty, uh…" Juan added, "and the first specialization was at level twenty, I reckon?" Sean turned to the Latino and also noticed that… the phone had already found its way from Emma's desk onto her lap. So much for paying attention!
Bruce turned to look at Juan with scorn. "Oi! Lucky here, a Reddit-expert, but!" he taunted, then chuckled. "No matter, your mob will learn to play the game – not post about it, like those absolute legends do." He hesitated for not even a second. "That last one was irony, but no wukkas, ay?" Juan nodded, a little nervously, then Bruce continued, "So that's the sad and pathetic story of one Mystic class – have fun with it, but."
There were some whispers around the desks. A few people frowned. Sean assumed that advice like this from the vet was worth heeding – Mystic might be worth investigating later, but leveling up efficiently first. No! He caught himself already plotting his reality-gaming journey – it was just one day! He had wasted way too much time on video games back in his youth…
"Any questions?" Bruce asked.
It was clear that a few people wanted to raise some, but it was Aiyana who spoke first: "Then it is inevitable, yes? That it will be nerfed soon enou–"
"Everything is," Bruce cut in. "That's the Wheel of Classes for you lot. You figure out one thing, it works for a few days, or a week or two… and then something else pops up. Been like this since launch."
"And have you been playing since launch?" Sean asked, testing the waters.
Bruce squinted at him and asked, "What, you got a problem with that?"
"No-no, it's just that…" Sean hurriedly clarified, but trailed off when the instructor started chuckling. Sean added with a smile, "Must've been quite a journey!"
Bruce just smiled widely for a moment, then commented: "Oh, it was… it was. But back to the classes, ay? So next there's–"
"Just one question about the Mystic!" Santiago interrupted. "If I may?"
Bruce sighed at first, but then calmly admitted, "Not an expert on that, ay? Never my cup of tea – and summons are a different kettle of fish to Necro-stuff, but!"
Santiago nodded and followed up, "How does it work, exactly, anything you could tell us?"
Bruce closed his eyes for a moment. Everyone was seemingly very eager for this explanation, so Sean waited too. The instructor finally started explaining, "I don't know all the details, but they grab a weak boss first – still streets ahead of normal minions in that location, ay? Then use it to kill another stronger boss, then another. Mystic has no bonuses– Righto, only the Necromancer graft from Mage, it's dumb. But. With Mystic's defensive minion boosts and– It's better if you can find a Cleric or two for physical buffs, but it's–"
"But doesn't Mystic have buffs?" Juan interjected.
"Naur, only magical," Bruce corrected. "The Bard has a bit of both, but they don't work on minions – only players, cuz AOE. But look, you lot…" He sat up to look at the group from the floor. "It's like watching– They're torturing those poor bosses, ay? Making them proper-lose any will to live…"
"But is it good for XP?" Chris asked.
"Reckon…" Bruce started, "when you bring a minion boss onto a field or into an instance, then… sure – why not, ay?" He then sighed and added with a tinge of sadness, "But it's not playing, it's just… sitting around waiting for stuff to die, ay? Zero skill or craft to it, but…"
Sean suddenly realized that all these arguments could be applied to summoners – manifest an air elemental, or whatever other kinds there are, then also wait for things to die . He pondered if there was a trick to it, or some kind of limitation perhaps, but he decided not to push the topic. Accusing an overpowered player of hypocrisy might not end well.
Everybody else seemed content with the answers so far.
Bruce continued after a couple of seconds, "So, the other classes, quickly! Bard. Kinda lame now, used to be good – but all the good Bards respecced to Mystic, so– Righto, you see what the problem is, ay? The classes were supposed to work together, complement each other, and groups of Mystics work alone… or with minimum support once they learn – so it's just stupid." He shrugged, then added more casually, "But no wukkas, ay? Nerf comin' any day now! But back to classes, no time… A Bard buffs the whole party. That's the strength of the class, and it's versatile – physical, magic, defense buffs. Weaker than single target deals, but varied and customizable." He looked at Michelle, the only Bard present. "I reckon don't start singing, or folks might rip your throat out! Just kiddin', no wukkas, but." A tiny pause. "Good endgame class if you can find a proper team, waste of time at start – better switch to Cleric or–"
"Mystic!" Michelle threw in.
Bruce sighed tiredly, and Sean looked at the ceiling again. The Bard portrait looked like he was indeed singing, guitar and everything. Ripping one's throat for singing had sounded excessive, then again if every Bard were to start doing that…
"Naur, that's…" the instructor began, then pivoted to: "Yeah nah, you'll be right, my lady!" He smirked for a second, then resumed. "Next, Cleric. Buffs, mostly physical, light healing, smites, debuff-removal, but." He nodded, then added, "The rest is trash these days, because you always have a Healer, nah yeah? Speaking of, Healer – every team has one or more, but it's easiest to play so there's ample supply… of sexy Healer chicks, if youse know what I mean, ay?" He winked at Emma, the only Healer.
She groaned quietly, then asked, "Don't you need to look at the painting? On the ceiling?"
Sean went back to studying the Wheel. Both Cleric and Healer figures had elaborate robes, hooded cloaks, seemingly casting support spells. The only difference was that the Cleric extended her arm at the characters in the lower left section, and the Healer had his hand raised as if to heal everyone – rays of yellow light emanating in all directions. Right. The Cleric had physical buffs.
Bruce shrugged and explained, "Naur, youse know the Wheel by heart! Not every class, not in detail – but the Wheel rules all." He grinned after this.
Sean lowered his gaze and noticed that Emma only frowned at the answer. Considering the phone she held out of the instructor's sight, it was clear that the main issue was Bruce sitting up. For her, anyway, since Bruce could see their faces… and eyes, were they to angle the wrong way. This further reinforced that the Emmo nickname was surprisingly fitting, no matter how silly the pun was – and the blonde Healer was clearly more interested in texting than the introduction.
"Righto," Bruce resumed, "next, Paladin– Wait! The– Almost forgot, Healers get the rez skill on first spec – so don't go wasting yourselves too much before then, ay? Early levels go fast, so you'll get that in well under a week anyway. And the real fun starts at second or third spec, so don't give up, ay? But Paladin… it's a funny one, used to be Healer-hatchling – folks respecced after twenty or thirty, depending on the local class economy. Heard it received some love…" A smug smirk for a couple of seconds, then he continued, "With skills, that is, ay! But too tanky for DPS, too melee for support. Good solo or small-party starter – they say it's well rounded, but." He shrugged. "Reckon just find a gank with proper DPS, ay!"
Sean had only half-listened to the Bard through Paladin descriptions, trying to process the story of the Mystic's OP-ness. To him, it had been the most intriguing part of this introduction . How some broken mechanics had been discovered, abused, popularized – so by the time the street got into the grift, it was only a matter of time before it got rebalanced. An intriguing distraction without breaking the world too much. Kept players busy. Omega could probably keep doing it forever given its capabilities. If he were to try playing this game, and that's a mighty big 'if,' he'd have to focus on finding stuff like that – rather than merely following the trends. Far too many people doing that, clearly, including the newbies who read about it on Reddit.
"So, just as top right is magics," Bruce carried on with the lecture, "bottom right supports, going clockwise – the bottom left corner is melee."
Sean looked up. All four characters in the lower left section were wielding swords, axes, some of them with shields. The Paladin, slightly to the right, was also a melee type, but casting a spell on himself with his free hand. Along with the Knight and the Fighter, he was wearing steel armor plates. The armor seemed to lighten as the Wheel progressed – culminating in the bare torso and head of a muscular male with two large axes… Berserker class, apparently. He looked quite enraged. Sean wondered if wearing no clothing was frowned upon just as the Bard's singing seemingly was. The female Warrior, Sean's class, stood below him, ready to pounce – in tough leather armor, hair tied in a bun, and wielding two scimitars or cutlasses. Hard to tell at such an angle. Sean frowned, far too many video games.
"Not much to add about that," Bruce explained, "not my thing – opposite to magic, but. The Knight is a bit of a hybrid: melee slash self-support buffs. It's odd now, but used to be good for leveling up back in the day, ay? Next, the Tank class is… just more of the same, really. Melee and armor over DPS–"
"Where's this Tank class?" Aiyana interjected.
Bruce looked at her, then glanced up and clarified, "Roight! Everybody calls the Fighter Tank , which is what it is. Must have one or two in high-level instances, ay? Or so they say…"
Sean was surprised by the instructor's tone. It was almost as if he hadn't known – but how had he leveled up, then? There must have been better ways to do that… or perhaps had been, once?
"Reckon the Warrior further up the Wheel gets less tankiness and more damage," Bruce continued, "as expected, ay? It's good for leveling but folks respec to Tank later on." He looked at Sean, one of the two Warriors here, and commented with a smile, "You'll be right, champ! Next, there's–"
"I'm sorry," Sean cut in, "just quickly, what's the distinction between spec and respec ?" There was an awkward pause afterward, some chuckles from the room. Sean barely heard half a whisper about the hobo being lost…
Bruce gave him the 'seriously' look again and commented, "Mate. What are you doing in– That's the whole game, ay! You spec and respec, and chase… whatever the current– How did you even get here, didn't you read the invite?"
Sean grew flustered – not like he could admit 'the truth,' so he tried, "I was tricked into– On a dare? A friend did all the invite-stu-"
"Mate!" Bruce cut him off. "That's so proper-sick, respect! Good luck with the– With finding yourself, ay? Reckon ask NPCs for details – no time here, but." He nodded at Sean with a playful smile. Sean didn't know whether it was a good or bad thing. The instructor turned to the other side of the room and continued after a couple of seconds, "Movin' to… Reckon Barbarian, ay? They call it Berserker now, but once you clock 'em– No clothes, ay? Clear winner for melee, especially for the lasses!"
Sean glanced at Emma, and she was… not amused, to put it mildly.
Bruce continued, "Great DPS, though, if they can live long enough to–"
"Hold up," she interrupted. "How does that work, the 'no clothes' bit?"
Bruce turned to her with a smirk, "Too easy! Battle-bikinis, ay?" Emma's stare became even more annoyed. Sean barely suppressed the urge to chuckle at this, while some folks deeper in the room showed their amusement in various ways. Bruce added calmly after a moment, "Quite a show, but terrible for survival, is my point! Not wearing armor and– Reckon they can wear clothes, but their skills don't work, so…" He looked Emma up and down with visible interest , what little he could see under and above the desk – and she was clearly wearing clothes.
She just rolled her eyes.
Sean tried to change the topic and asked, "But is that even a viable strat–"
"Too right, mate!" Bruce cut him off. "Everybody's staring at them for days, like a catwalk, rawr -ay?"
Sean sighed a little. This was going beyond cringe, so he attempted, "But, I meant, as a tactic – can fighting without armor even be–"
"Naur. It's just a pet token-Barbarian-thing, but!" Bruce smirked, then joked, "For moral support and uh… visual stimuli , scenery – if you know what I mean, ay? Used to be able to cull bosses but Ommy fixed that, so it's just– Or maybe good for leveling? No clue to be honest, not my thing, but."
Sean frowned at 'Ommy' – it sounded extra wrong for some reason. He had heard the Singularity-enthusiasts use 'Om' to refer to Omega playfully, but it felt like the instructor went overboard with it.
A couple of seconds of silence. Bruce scanned the room from the floor. He stopped at Santiago, the only Berserker among them, and added calmly, "Reckon it's good DPS and people are keeping it PG-thirteen. Plus they get a skill– No, not that, more like a trait, maybe? They ignore weather conditions, including temperature, so it's all good, ay. Worth a try, if it doesn't work – you can respec to that pet Mystic of yours…"
Santiago cleared his throat and remarked, "I'd rather switch right away, if it's possi–"
"You'll be right, mate!" The instructor cut him off and shrugged, then continued, "That concludes the melee section of the Wheel and then… Yeah nah, the ranged physical are just a waste of time, completely useless – don't bother with them. Righto, questions so we can get out of 'ere, but?"
Sean looked up at the final section, top left: two out of three figures seemed rather shady, sulking in the shadows or behind cover. Ranger was the only exception and she proudly held her bow, aimed to the right… a gentle jab at the caster vs martial rivalry, perhaps? He also noticed that the magical classes were casting their spells to the left – then again where else would they point them? It was a closed circle.
Chris was one of two Tricksters – which class was located in the upper left section, or ranged-physical, as their instructor summarized. He asked, "But are they really completely useless?"
"Oh yeah, for sure," Bruce remarked. "Reckon maybe early on, but single target and they need arrows and other usables. To go by the order of the Wheel, Hunter class is half-melee and mostly about traps, ay. Half the fight they'll be laying and pickin' them up, if not more than half. And trap-toss got nerfed, so no more remote deploy, ay? Then Ranger is just toys, mate, the boring stuff. Trickster is… Reckon kinda sweet with those poisons, but rarely work on bosses and rank mobs are wiped with AOE anyway." He paused for a second, nodded to himself, and added, "I started with that proper, but respecced to Warlock fast. In mid-to-high content poisons aren't worth your time, ay?" He shrugged. "And no clue how starter locations work these days, ay-but?"
The one empty slot was between Trickster and Warlock, as if waiting to be filled with a new class. Secret jogger-hobo hidden profession, perhaps? Sean chuckled to himself, but promptly dismissed the joke. He considered the recent explanations, and it felt like Bruce went through all the ranged classes too quickly – personal pride, perhaps? They would compete with Mages and especially Arcanists, judging by the ranged aspect of it anyway. Physical vs magic. Then again, having to haul all the traps and arrows definitely did not seem particularly encouraging when applied to a fully physicalized reality-game.
Bruce got up and dusted himself off. Sean suddenly realized that while it had felt a little odd for the lecture instructor to just lie on the floor out of the blue – in a medieval-tech society, that was probably the norm. And players couldn't just carry hiking supplies in addition to all the gear. Lying on the grass had to be just a thing in the game.
"So," the veteran Summoner said, "you lot clear on everything? Don't forget to like and subscribe, and tell every priest you find what a ripper of a lecturer your friend Bruce is, ay!"
Sean smiled at this last remark. The YouTube reference had not escaped him, and that self-promotion felt so goofy.
"Can we get the classes changed now?" Santiago pressed. "Uh, please?"
"Mate, I've got things on…" Bruce began tiredly, sighed, then offered instead, "Reckon we might give it a burl." He had already turned to the orb.
"Just quickly," Sean threw in. "Any hints for leveling up? From a veteran's perspective, I mean." He was somewhat interested in the topic, but mostly just wanted to lay his hands on the orb himself… But how to arrange that without getting Head-Scratched!
"Mate!" Bruce exclaimed, then wondered out loud, "Where do I even start, ay?"