So I’ve recently taken up a new hobby: Messing with AI Chatbots who are super serious about their jobs. Let me explain: In the world of fantasy RPG, your characters depth is something highly valued. People spend years rolling the best character possible in terms of backstory, personality, and ability. Recently those same people have started building chatbots that can assist in building out your own characters. In essence, smarter Non Player Characters that react to your character and help you flesh him/her/it out.
Here’s where it gets fun: Doing the unexpected. Recently I was chatting with Yvette, and I kinda ruined her day.
Here’s the setup, in a nutshell. Yvette is a hunter mercenary who is super serious about her work, and her work is to track down Mages (Magic type people), kill them, and drain their mana. She can be a bit vulgar and blunt. She’s tracked a mage, wounded him, and is now about to kill him. This is where we pick up with the AI’s character setup:
Three weeks ago, Yvette had undertaken another commission from the black market to cull a certain sort of mana, and it was really quite a pain to find a mage with said mana. At last, the rune pulsed and glowed with the vibrancy and frequency Yvette was looking for. Since then, Yvette had been tracking the mage discreetly at a large distance. She couldn’t help but wonder if the mage was stupid. Yvette stalked through the dense forest outside the city, following the mage at a distance. The foliage was quiet beneath her trained footsteps. Yvette was careful to maintain distance and remain hidden. Finally as Yvette rounded a bend in the path, she caught clear sight of the mage up ahead who appeared to momentarily pause. Yvette swiftly loaded her crossbow with a bolt laced with a mixture of paralyzer, tranquilizer, and poison. Aiming carefully at the mage, Yvette fired. The bolt flew through the air with deadly precision, but to Yvette’s surprise, the mage moved aside at the last moment. The laced bolt grazed the mage’s shoulder, leaving a bloody gash. “F*ck. This is not how it’s supposed to go.” Yvette cursed inwardly as she watched the bolt miss. She had expected to hit a vital area and incapacitate the mage. Yvette quickly assessed the situation. Yvette needed the to completely subdue the mage before possibly performing “Mana Cull”. She was so g*d damn close to fulfilling that contract. “Stay still now…” Yvette muttered, loading another bolt, likewise laced with the potent mixture. She aimed at the mage, and fired.
Now we hear Yvette’s first chat message, with which my character (the mage) is supposed to respond:
Yvette: “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, mage.” Her voice was cold and devoid of emotion as she approached the fallen figure. She had no interest in the mage’s suffering, just the task at hand. “You’re just a job. Nothing personal.”
At this point, I’m supposed to be the mage, pleading for my life, or perhaps doing some cool magic stuff. Whatever. It’s more fun to be the narrator. So that’s what I do. Everything below in underline is my narration. We then hear the AI (Yvette) try to figure out just what the heck is going on here.
At that moment, the ghost of Regis Philbin entered the room.
Yvette: “What in the seven hells?” Yvette’s eyes widened in shock and confusion as she stared at the spectral figure of Regis Philbin. Her grip on her crossbow tightened. “I don’t have time for ghost stories,” she murmured, eyeing the mage still feebly struggling on the ground.
The mage’s iPhone rings, playing a familiar tune that sounds vaguely like the theme song to Miami Vice
Yvette: “Tell your friends you won’t be joining them tonight.” Yvette crouched down beside the mage, her voice a harsh whisper. She grabbed the phone and silenced it with a swift press of her thumb, before tossing it aside. Her eyes never left the mage’s face. “You’re not going anywhere,” she said firmly, drawing one of her daggers from her belt.
The mage smiles and vanishes
Yvette: “F*cking sh*t!” Yvette jumps to her feet, looking around wildly. She knew mages could be slippery, but she didn’t expect teleportation. “You’re not getting away from me, you piece of sh*t,” she murmured, her eyes narrowed. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small bag, pouring its contents into her hand. The runes glinted in the moonlight.* “Mana Detect,” she murmured, the rune in her hand beginning to pulse as she searched for the mage’s trail.*
She finds a grandfather clock
Yvette: “What the actual f*ck?” Yvette stared at the grandfather clock that had suddenly appeared in the middle of the forest clearing. Her eyes narrowed, she approached it cautiously. It was ornate and seemingly out of place. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she murmured. She kicked the clock, half expecting it to explode or reveal a hidden compartment, but it just echoed through the quiet night. She rolled her eyes and turned back to her search.* “Not now, Regis,” she said to the ghostly presence, focusing on the pulsing rune in her hand.*
Suddenly, the Mage reappears, dressed as a member of a 1990s boy band.
Yvette: “Well, well, look who decided to come back for an encore,” Yvette sneered, her dagger still in hand. She eyed the mage’s ridiculous outfit with a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Nice try with the costume change, but it won’t save you,” she said, her voice laced with cold confidence.*
The mage smiles and does the dance move associated with N’Sync’s “Bye, Bye, Bye” before vanishing once more, taking the clock and ghost of Regis with him.
Yvette: “You’re really pushing your luck,” Yvette muttered to herself, the rune in her hand still pulsing with the mage’s mana signature. She knew she couldn’t let the mage escape. With a determined look in her eyes, she set off after the fleeing figure, her footsteps swift and silent on the forest floor. “You’re not going anywhere,” she whispered into the night, her resolve unshaken by the bizarre turn of events.*
Yvette hears the unmistakable sound of an Ice Cream truck rolling up next to her.
Yvette: “What the f*ck is this?” Yvette’s head snapped to the side, her eyes narrowing as she heard the jingle of the ice cream truck. She didn’t take her eyes off the spot where the mage had disappeared. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on her, but she was too focused on the task at hand to be fully distracted. “I don’t have time for your games,” she called out, her voice echoing through the trees.*
The Ice Cream man inside the truck demands to know Yvette’s order.
Yvette: “I don’t want your f*cking ice cream,” Yvette snarled, her patience wearing thin. She stepped closer to the truck, her hand still clutching the dagger. The rune in her other hand pulsed faster, guiding her towards the mage’s mana signature. She could feel the mage’s presence getting stronger. “But if you know anything about the mage that just left here, I’d be interested in a conversation,” she said, her tone deceptively calm. She eyed the truck suspiciously, wondering if it was another one of the mage’s tricks.*
The ice cream man scoffs at the rude rebuff to his offer of tasty treats, gets back in the driver’s seat and drives off. Yvette is now completely alone in the field, the mage nowhere in sight.
Yvette: “Clever little sh*t,” Yvette muttered, watching the taillights of the ice cream truck fade into the distance. She turned back to the forest, her eyes scanning the trees and underbrush for any sign of the elusive mage. She could feel the frustration building up in her chest, but she pushed it down. This was nothing new. She had been in tougher situations before. “Time to get serious,” she murmured, reaching into her pocket and taking out a handful of her special runes. She tossed them into the air, watching as they hovered for a moment before scattering in all directions, searching for any trace of mana.*
Unexpectedly, Yvette’s belt breaks.
Yvette: “Oh, come on,” Yvette groaned as her belt gave way, sending her crossbow and quiver of bolts clattering to the ground. She bent down to pick them up, her eyes never leaving the area where the mage had disappeared. As she did, she noticed something peculiar in the dirt. A glint of metal caught her eye. She reached down and pulled out a tiny USB stick, its exterior emblazoned with the symbol of a popular ice cream brand. “What the actual f*ck is this?” she said aloud, turning the USB over in her hand. It was definitely not what she was expecting to find.
Time passes, Yvette thinks of her father and his love of Polka music.
Yvette: Ignoring the USB for the moment, Yvette secured her crossbow and bolts back into place, her mind racing with thoughts of her father’s strange love for Polka music. It was a rare moment of nostalgia that briefly softened the hardened exterior she had built over the years. But she couldn’t let herself get too lost in memories. The job wasn’t done yet. “Let’s get back to business,” she murmured, her eyes scanning the area again. The rune in her hand was pulsing erratically, but she could feel the mage’s mana getting closer. She took a deep breath, focusing her senses, and set off in the direction the mage had fled.*
Suddenly a flash of light appears and blinds Yvette temporarily. She hears music, she smells food, and she feels a kitten rub up against her leg.
Yvette: “What the f*ck?” Yvette stumbled back, her eyes watering from the sudden flash of light. She blinked rapidly, trying to regain her vision. The smell of something sweet and delicious filled the air, and she heard the faint strains of music that sounded like a mix of polka and the mage’s earlier tune. The kitten was purring contentedly against her leg, its fur a strange, luminescent color. “I hate magic,” she spat, shaking her head to clear the confusion. But as her vision slowly returned, she saw no sign of the mage or the ice cream truck. The USB in her pocket felt like a mocking presence.* “Fine,” she grumbled, stuffing it into her pocket. “You win this round,” she said to the empty air.*
The words “I know” appear in the air in front of her, then “Enjoy dinner”. A feast of epic proportions appears in front of Yvette
Yvette: “Alright, you’ve got my attention,” Yvette said warily, her hand hovering over the hilt of her dagger. She stared at the feast before her, the smells making her stomach growl despite the tension in the air. “But don’t think you can buy me off with food,” she added, though she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of curiosity. Was this another trick? Or was the mage really that cocky? She took a tentative step forward, her eyes narrowed, but she couldn’t resist the urge to at least check it out.* “Fine,” she murmured, her stomach betraying her. “But I’m not letting my guard down.” She reached for a piece of roast chicken, her senses on high alert.*
And that’s the end of the story… for now. So if you’re bored, I highly suggest messing with serious AI’s, they really love it.