Chapter 4: Isekai Life & Social Engineering

“Sure~! I’d love to hear your backstory!”

I had very carefully not selected any of my languages up until this point.

By doing so, I made sure that this interaction wouldn’t end until I was ready to do so, but I could still play it off as a forgetful accident.

Now, Corgiel didn’t realize it, but she was trapped, with no choice but to do the thing that all other gamers hate: listen to someone talk about their character’s backstory.

Of course, in the real world, gamers gladly listen to each other drone on, because of an unspoken social contract: You listen to my story and I’ll listen to yours. On and on the cycle goes, with resentment simmering, just waiting for the cathartic moment when every gamer has the spotlight.

I had no truck with that, though. Must be why so many fellow gamers seemed to hate me.

However, for the seasoned power gamer, character backstories were a potent tool. An insidious weapon, to wiggle into the game and open up cracks in it’s defenses.

“You see, my character is from a fallen and disgraced noble house. He still remembers the day, when he was a child, that his father was arrested for treason and his mother had the servants hide the children away while the house burned. He carries his father’s signet ring, and promised himself one day he would redeem his family name.”

They call it a redemption arc. I call it catnip for story-gamers.

Nobility is a shortcut to respect and money in all fantasy universes. In most games, the DM is discouraged from having a character be descended from a noble because of all the doors that it opens. The Dungeon Masters’ Guide even recommends against having noble characters from the start.

Sometimes an adventurer can be awarded with a title, sometimes not. A backstory like this, though, almost certainly ensures that it will happen through the course of the story. The DM would have to be completely vindictive or a total noob to pass up that kind of background.

Plus, being noble puts sex with princesses on the radar, and that’s very important in the long term.

But that was only the appetizer. Now for the main course.

“My character was then secreted away by an order of mages who owed my family a favour from generations ago, and took my character and his older sister in. While I was tutored in magic, my beautiful, red haired older sister proved to have no gift for it, and instead became a skilled fighter, who works hard to protect her frail little brother so he can become the future ruler of the house.”

A meatshield to protect me until I have more HP- check. A way to emulate the army-gathering advantage of being a fighter, by having her be loyal to my house- check. Maybe even an incestuous bedwarmer that I can do perverted things with- check.

“Oh, and she specializes in the longsword.”

I’m not cruel, after all. This way she has a greater chance of finding a great magic weapon (and wielding it in my name).

Oh, and finally, the piece de resistance.

“I also bear my family’s heirloom greatsword. It’s enchanted so a wizard can use it, but I don’t mind leaving it’s other magical properties up to you.”

The duck.

Every DM wants to maintain control of their game. But, also, most DMs don’t want to be assholes. So you put an obvious problem in your background for your DM to nitpick over, so they still feel in control. They don’t want to look bad, so they only remove or change one thing. But in reality, you don’t care, they discard the thing you want them to discard and the parts of your character that they’d reject normally, get approved.

A stroke of genius if I do sa-

“Okay, sounds good~ It’s your Heaven after all~”

Wait, what?

She didn’t even take out the duck?

... What the fuck am I going to do with a greatsword I have to drag around!?

Further, she acceded to the sister NPC right away and without a single complaint. Does this mean Corgiel already knows how she will make my sister betray me? Hmm, I’ll have to keep a close eye on her. Sorry, sister, but you’re a meat shield, and if I can find another useful fighter minion you might have to have an accident.

Suddenly, another d4 appeared on the table before. I couldn’t help it, I flinched.

“What’s that for!?”

“Determining your starting age, silly! Come on, get going!”

I sigh. Yes, she really did mean ALL the charts, didn’t she?

My character winds up starting at 19 years of age, but he has a maximum age of 104. He is 5’ 5” (How did I wind up being even shorter in my alleged fantasy realm!) and 166 lbs.

So much for all that unimportant stuff.

For languages I end up choosing Elven, Dwarven, Goblin, Orc and Draconian- the five languages most likely to come up- and leave the final slot unassigned in case something comes up during play. If the DM is willing, I can just assign the last slot instantly at need, if not then I’ll be able to learn the language over time.

Finally, my new name. I don’t like overthinking this sort of thing, and I write down the first thing that comes to mind.

“I guess that’s that, then, we’re ready to go.”

“Wait a minute.”

I hold a warding hand to Corgiel so my desire is extra-clear.

“This is my Heaven, right? But I’ve already made a very flawed character. My stats are lower than I’d like them to be, I don’t have the spells I want, but I have a deep sense of unease with how you reacted to my character background. So how do I know that I’m getting what I want?”