NEW FILE: 000:00:00
Moon’s Day, Winter, 3:04 p.m.
I awoke on the shore with no memory. A great, glowing light appeared and spoke to me: “YOUR VILLAGE HAS BEEN DESTROYED BY AN ANCIENT MALEVOLENCE. YOUR PARENTS ARE DEAD AND YOUR LOVE INTEREST OF VAGUE ROYAL LINEAGE IS MISSING.” I took this news in stride. “YOU MUST COLLECT THE SEVEN MAGICAL WIDGETS SCATTERED ACROSS THE LAND TO SAVE YOUR WORLD, WORLDIA.” And I was like, “Guy, I’m a level 1, orphaned amnesiac with a wooden sword, cloth armor (so, basically, a shirt), and no heroic qualifications. Why me?” “WE COULDN’T FIND AN ACID-DROPPING PLUMBER,” the light boomed. It was time to get to work.
SAVE FILE 01: 006:23:58
Woden’s Day, Spring, 9:28 p.m.
God, who knew saving Worldia from supreme evil would be so tedious? I spent all morning moving crates and running errands for the townspeople—damn shut-ins. Why should a guy engaged in an epic battle with evil have to do the fishwife’s shopping, or pay the merchant 200 gawld for a baguette? I’d have to brain 50 of those smiling toothpaste dollops lurking helplessly outside of town to get that much. I level-grinded my way through a beginner’s dungeon. Its ingenious architects—apparently oblivious to the art of key-cutting—installed the switches miles away from the doors they open, so infiltrating their stronghold was more inconvenient than challenging. And don’t even get me started on tending to my intricately spiked mullet. Every demon bunny I whack to death inexplicably carries gold and weapons; what does an androgynous teen warrior have to do to get a stupid can of Aqua Net?
SAVE FILE 01: 050:52:31
Thor’s Day, Summer, 2:19 a.m.
Broccolio is an anthropomorphic vegetable that wields terrible magic, but dies if a monster breathes on him. He kind of freaks me out, but he said he was joining my journey and wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. The more I learn about Worldia, the less I care about saving it. The houses are basically clapboard shacks while the underground sewers employ splendorous Byzantine architecture. The Worldians repeat the same nuggets of polite speech over and over, even after you chop up their barrels and loot their cupboards right in front of them. I can order gods into battle, but I can’t step over waist-high picket fences. When a fiend scalds me with hot lava, I just sleep it off. Weird. Whatever; Broccolio and I have five of the widgets already and we just won an airship in a card game, so we should be able to wrap this up pretty quickly.
SAVE FILE 01: 077:35:21
Sun’s Day, Fall, 5:02 a.m.
At this point, I’m unbelievably strong. I may still look like a willowy rodeo clown, but I have the great sword Badunkadunk, which is twice my size and can cleave planets. Still, when I found a familiar, glowing being in the final boss’ chamber, I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly died. “I AM THE EVIL WIZARD PLOTWIST,” it boomed. After several hours of fearsome combat, I finally unleashed my Yahweh summon, which I tend to avoid because you have to sit through a 10-minute laser show before the universe implodes on your foe. Plotwist survived, but then Broccolio felled him with a single tap of his bubble-wand. What?! I summoned down the very forces of heaven and this freak deals the deathblow with a soap bubble? I hate Worldia. With the help of Badunkadunk and the seven widgets, I think I might take a stab at world domination myself.