Floating…
Gently…
Something…
Missing…?
It… takes concentration… and steadied breathing… except I can't breath… but still do? Focus…
As I come to, I notice I'm in a… void of sorts. No… not a void… but not not a void either? It rumbles gently, deep but soothing on the… chest? No, I don't have a chest… I should? The colored fog and smoke swirl around me gently, specks of… light? No… stars… nebula…?
"So you come to… Not many have the willpower to regain consciousness on their way to the next life… something that hasn't happened in eons at least…" It rumbles in tongues, deciphered not by ear, but by something innate.
"The sheer will of yourself, the refusal to simply slumber when something is amiss… perhaps… I'm certain you have questions?"
Questions…? Wait… where am I…?
"Mmm, a better answer would be where you aren't. You are outside the folds of existence, the 'True Aether' so to speak, not the false vacuum you may be familiar with"
How… what…? Why am I…?
"Seems you're starting to struggle, a shame. As to why you're here, I'm afraid your time was up on the mortal plane. Wrongfully so I might add, but if it heartens you, your brothers are safe and sound. Your sacrifice was not in vain".
Sacrifice…? Brothers…?
No…
No.
No. I open my mouth to scream, to curse everything that had happened to me up to that point, that final hour. She pulled the trigger. She pulled the fucking trigger.
"My, that had an unexpected result. Usually such woes would immediately sap the consciousness out of souls such as yourself. Not you though, such pain seems to add fuel to your fire. Mmm, yes, your mother was ill inside, not safe around your brothers. She took things too far, and was going to fire upon your brothers. I'm impressed, you took two shots to the arm, one to the torso, and one to the head and still kept going, before you pinned her and wrenched the gun out of her hands. After you'd made sure she was tied up and your first brother was on the phone with emergency services, only then did you leave your body. A rare instance, in which the soul defies all logic and pushes the body past its own expiration. Profound, for a mortal"
Clay… Brendan… you're safe…? You're safe… that's all that ever mattered to me…
"Mmm… why don't we make a deal, lost soul?"
A… deal…?
"Yes… as it stands, I am in need of an individual with a will of sheer iron to… set the balance in another vacuum bubble, one where the laws of physics are far more fluid. There is a mechanism that has been set into place recently, the likes of which has been stealing individuals from another bubble. This is something I cannot allow, as it goes against the natural order of things. Stop the mechanism, that is what I ask of you. I care not for those who have been already dragged there, unless they interfere with your mission. Do this, and I will grant you a boon"
A… boon…? My brothers are safe, what more could I want…?
"Mmm, as the Voice of the Aether, though I normally do not do such things, I can bend and twist certain rules, perhaps even rewind the clock by a few astral minutes in a false vacuum, twitch some details… you could see your brothers again. Live alongside them in their safety"
Go back? Get to see their smiles one more time?
Put me in the motherfucking ring.
"Hah… that is probably the closest a lost soul has ever gotten me to feel something akin to mirth. Very well… I will provide for you the necessary tool to push forward and persevere, you will have to work from there however. The next Pulse will come in ten of this vacuum's years… hopefully, by then, you will be able to observe the pulse as an experienced individual and greet whichever lost souls are brought. I would prefer this next Pulse not happen at all, but unfortunately the only way for you to collapse this bridge will have to rely upon the souls it brings. Do you understand the assignment?"
Fall in, learn, grow, befriend, save the day.
"Mmm… you'll do nicely indeed… I'm glad an individual such as yourself came… to think I was about to grab some hapless soul at random to accomplish this job. Take care, lost soul. And happy hunting"
I jerk upward, gasping for air. My breathing uneven from shock as my eyes dart to and fro, trying to make sense of what just happened. Lights blinding, scents overwhelming, chest in pain. Panic attack.
Quickly, I pull my canvas jacket off and ball it up, forcing my face into it as I breathe. Being forced to inhale in fabric limits the amount of air I'm pulling in, avoiding hyperventilation. I curl up into a ball and cry, whimpering between breaths. Two emotions were coursing through my veins as I sobbed in the dirt, hatred and pain. Slowly, my breathing eased into a steadier pattern, and I pulled my snotty tear ridden jacket away, thankful I had the decency to use the back of the jacket.
"She killed me… she fucking killed me... " I mumbled, already putting my jacket on as I sat, sunlight beaming down on me.
The sunlight, now softer and gentler, brought me to my senses. I looked around, and noticed a few things. One, it obviously wasn't night-time anymore. Two, I'm not in the kitchen. Three, the air here is quite possibly the cleanest air I've ever smelled. As I lean back, mostly to lay down and relax in my newly attained state of numb shock, I feel my hand brush up against something. I look over, and spy my hand brushing against what looks to be a canvas coyote pack, with a water bottle and brush-hook axe holstered onto the side.
I scootch over across the patch of dirt on the forest floor and grab the bag, pulling it to me. Despite appearances, it's surprisingly light, so I doubt there's even much in it. Opening it however, I'm surprised to find out it's much deeper. Strangely, despite it's unrealistic volume, I can still readily visualize every single item in the bag, almost as if-
"Almost as if it's an item inventory… ah shit…"
Pushing that thought aside… I spot a particular object. A picture book, of all things, looking much like some old night time bed-story book for children, with a fading brown leather cover, and a shining blue metallic lettering, simply written as {Humble Beginnings}.
Huh. For some reason that felt like it had more oomph in my thoughts.
I pull the book out and open it, and on the first page is what appears to be a note. A note from… from…
Oh shit.
"I leave this book to you, lost soul. This tome is what many would refer to as a {World Item}, so treasure it with your life. Though, I must say you won't have to worry about theft at least, due to the nature in which I have imbued into it. Normally, according to the laws of the world in which the Pulse steals it's victims from, a {World Item} has particular prerequisites one needs to reach in order to acquire it. However, in this particular case, I simply made this one. To use it, simply focus upon the cover with the intent to 'use' it. The feeling will come naturally to you.
Sincerely,
Your Patron"
My… Patron? Huh, what is this, Dungeons and Dragons? Wait, would that make me a Warlock then? Wait, no, nerd later, focus now. I skim through the pages of the book, of which there are surprisingly many. Deciding that counting the pages wouldn't be the most productive use of my time, I close the book and stare at the cover. He said to focus on it? How… How do I do that? How do I 'Use' it?
I'm startled out of my musings as the cover I was staring at is blocked out by a black screen floating in front of me, white text flowing out onto it.
{World Item: Humble Beginnings}
{This World Item was forged outside the bounds of the nine worlds, built in the soft embrace of the Aether. The book has a homely, loving feeling to it, Giving off a warmth of which could even soothe the restless damned and bring gentle peace and love to the heartless undead}
{Abilities: This World Item allows the allocation of 100 NPC levels per 20 levels, up to a total of 500 NPC levels. However, said NPCs can not surpass the wielder of this world item themselves in level. This World Item negates the requirement of data crystals needed to create said NPCs, and any unallocated levels generate an amount of data crystals equivalent to half the unused levels, rounded down to the closest even number once per full moon. Additionally, this World Item does not drop from its owner upon death, nor can it be stolen. The only method of losing this item would be to willingly give it up, status effects that influence choice-making sets this particular circumstance null}
Data crystals… nine worlds… {World Item}... why does this all sound so familiar?
{Notice: You are not a high enough level to use this item}
Alright, this is really fucking weird. Level? First of all, how would I even 'Check' that? Before I can ponder however, my vision is blurred and time seems to slow, and I'm greeted with another black screen with white lettering.
{Name: Nolan Potts}
{Race: Human}
{Levels: Brawler (4), Ranger (3), Druid (2), Clothier (2). Total Level (11)}
What the crispy cranberry fuck? Alright, what do these even mean?
{Brawler: Through a unique show of brawn, you've proven that you can get down and dirty. Capable of mixing grappling, striking, and knife slashing alongside cheap tactics, you'd just as much throw dirt into your opponents eyes as you'd shake their hand}
Okay, while accurate, I don't like how that makes me sound like an honorless thug.
{Ranger: You've spent your fair amount of time on the trail, tracking prints and foraging, surviving in the roughness of nature using what little you had on hand. This has allowed you a certain connection with nature, permitting you to commune with it to a degree and perceive that which most may have difficulty with. Unlocked via 'Camping with the Devil Dogs' Quest)
'Camping with the Devil Dogs'? What the hell is… holy shit, that winter camping trip came in handy with my old man? Thank you kindly sir. Guess it does pay to have a Marine as a father.
{Druid: Your love of all that is natural has brought you closer with the flora and fauna around you, permitting you to not only share in it's bounty, but weave a portion of the bounty with your own hands. As such, you will find that the magics of the trees and vines are at your grasp, tapping into the old faith. Unlocked via 'Black-Thumbed Witch' Quest}
Oh… 'Black-Thumbed Witch'... right. Mom never had much luck with growing things, despite the fact that she needed to grow some components for her Wiccan beliefs. I was always the more blessed one when it came to gardening, and I loved it. As bittersweet as that memory is, I guess some good came from it.
{Clothier: An honest craft that brings warmth to all. You have skill with the thread and needle, and are capable of crafting clothing and light armor as well as various trinkets using your talents. Whether it be hide or quilt, you can do it. Unlocked via 'Darn It All' Quest}
That one made me crack a weak smile. Oftentimes as a pun, whenever I tore a sock I'd say 'oh darn it all', as darning is what you do to fix a sock. Guess I must've got it when Gramps taught me how to darn socks and sew buttons. Huh, I wonder if I could probably use it to make more clothes? I only know the one stitch, but… I could probably make do with it, right? Like, make a poncho maybe?
{Notice: Clothier recipe 'Poncho' unlocked}
Whelp, didn't see that coming. So it just… unlocked something for me the moment I thought of it? Uhh… Tents?
{Notice: Clothier recipe 'Tent' Unlocked}
Sleeping bag?
{Notice: Insufficient Clothier Level}
Ah, darn it all. Hmm… wait, is this just for Clothier, or can I do something like this for my other classes? I try to think back to my Dungeons and Dragons experiences. What sucks is I only ever play Paladin, so I don't have much expertise pertaining to Druid or Ranger spells. I think I remember one or two though. I stand up, facing away from the pack, and with an outreached hand I try my luck.
"{Create Water}!"
Immediately, a splash of water spewed forth out of thin air from a briefly flashed blue circle, sloshing the area I had in mind. I stare blankly at the muddying puddle, trying to process what I did.
"... I was kidding".
This does, however, make me wonder. I think about the one other spell I knew off the top of my head.
"Goodberry!" I shouted, expecting a handful of berries to appear in my hand… only for nothing to happen.
{Notice: Spell (Goodberry) requires the following Material/Somatic components: Small Fruits/Plant Sprig, Contact}
Oh. Well uh… damn. I look around real quick, and notice a few unripe fruits growing on a bush. Shooting my shot, I walk over to the bush and tear a green piece off.
"{Goodberry}!"
The unripe fruitage immediately began to swell, changing from its grassy green to a vibrant, plump pink. I stare at the fruits in front of me, awestruck. Goodberry is supposedly a healing spell, so the only way I could test that is… well, it's gonna suck, but I gotta do it. I press my thumb against a thorn on the bush and cut, watching the blood dribble down the branch. Staring at my thumb, I pop a berry and wait. Not a moment sooner, the blood stops dribbling and a quick rub onto my jeans reveals a bright pink incision on my thumb, akin to fresh scar tissue.
"Holy shit…" I mutter. It was just a scratch but… to see that happen before your own eyes? That's… something else. If only I knew more than that.
{View Spell listings for Druid Class?}
Holy shit I can do that? Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!
I roamed through the brush on foot, pack on my back grumbling. As it turns out, I only know and can use a scant few spells, and I just happened to use them. As for my Clothier class, I'd spent actual points on those recipes, meaning I'd never get those points back. That being said, all I'd have to do is visualize what I want to make and my hands would do the work for me. Back to the spells though, it turns out I only know two spells that would be useful for combat, {Entangle}, and {Frostbite}. That second one is somewhat fitting, considering my 'Quest' that unlocked my Ranger class took place in the dead of winter. {Entangle} more or less summoned a mass of vines and weeds to restrict targets in a twenty foot radius. {Frostbite} creates a numbing layer of frost on a singular target, inflicting cold damage. Whoop dee friggin' doo, bondage and ice play.
I brushed my hand on the oaken handle of my brush-hook, feeling an almost kinful connection with the wood. I think I recall one of the things about druids being that they have an innate connection with all forms of plant? Like, certain plants give certain affects of symbolism? Or something like that. Again, Paladin main here, a little out of my element knowledge-wise.
Still, I know there are other aspects to both Rangers and Druids. Druids, for example, can wildshape. Or, at least, I hope I can. The thought of turning into a direwolf is a little cool admittedly. Alternatively, Ranger animals companions. Combined with the fact that there's animal speak I can use with my classes and I'm golden delicious on those options. Hmm, should probably see about finding an animal I can make my companion. Giant spiders are a big no-no if I can help it, but… actually hang on, that might be a badass option. Would freak the fuck out of anyone that I faced off against. Hmm… or a boar maybe? Or a-
"Gnraaaaaa!" I heard from the side, tipping me off to the fact that a goblin was now jumping out of a bush at me.
"Shit!" I yell out indignantly, swinging my brush-hook to deflect his spear. "{Frostbite}!"
Immediately, before the goblin can land another blow, he's coated in a thick layer of frost, his skin turning from green to a sicker black with cracking red flesh. Oh that is wrong. Still, it does the job, and the goblin is slowed on top of it, struggling to make his limbs cooperate through the numbness. Three more jump out to their comrades rescue, ready to strike. I think about sending another {Frostbite} out but… it doesn't feel ready? I desperately want to, but something innate tells me I simply can't.
"{Create Water}!" I call out, aiming above the goblins.
Not only does it add insult to injury for 'Frosty', it should disorient them while I make my next move. They get splashed with water, forcing them to sputter and cough. I swing my brush-hook back and make a slash, digging into the skull of one goblin with a sickening splatter. Pulling it back, I then kick out to the Frosty goblin, landing my boot square into his skull. He's tossed back, and falls to the ground cold. Heh.
God what is wrong with me?
Only two goblins remain, both of them give each other a glance, and drop their spears running. I blink, realizing this could either be good or really bad. I reach out and call out, hopefully, one final spell.
"{Entangle}!"
The plantlife of the forest reaches out with life, embracing the goblins in a leafy snare. I run up to them, reeling my brush-hook back to swing, only for the goblin to stare at me with teary eyes and sniveling. My brush-hook falters, and I admit I'm left with a dilemma. On one end, they may very well call reinforcements, but on the other end… ah hell, where's the good in them? Am I really not able to do this? I try and bring my hook up to swing again… but I can't seem to muster the courage.
"Ah... hell… I'm probably gonna regret this… can either of you speak my language?"
The sniveling goblin in front of me nods. "Y-yes! Luku speaks!"
I sigh, shaking my head. "I'm going to do something that I really don't want to regret… I'm going to release you, okay? And when I do, I want you to take your wounded guy and your dead guy, and for the love of god don't call any goons me. I'm lost, hungry, and I got jack shit on me, but I am a spiteful son of a gun and I will fight for my right to live up til the bitter end, and take as many of you down with me as I can, capiche?"
The goblin nodded feverishly. "Yes! Yes! Luku understand!"
After a moment's breath, I wave my hand to lower the vines…
… and immediately the green bastards make a run for it. I want to chase them, but honestly? Something tells me they won't be an issue. I sigh again, turning around to the two bodies. One cold, and one… still breathing? Oh damn, I know I used that pun earlier, but I should probably do something. I ran up to him and investigated him more thoroughly. Not exactly a looker, probably wasn't one to begin with. Still, there's bleeding from the forehead where my boot met his face, and his frostbite is seriously fucked. Now lies the question. Do I mercy kill? Or do I spare him?
"... god damn it..."
I pry open his jaw. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my remaining Goodberries, and stuff them into his jaw, forcing him to chew. It seems that ingesting isn't necessarily required, as it already takes effect. Like a clock being turned backwards, his black and red frosted flesh knitting back together, and blood no longer flowing from his skull. I feel my {Create Water} spell has refreshed, and so I decide to use it on a smaller scale.
"{Create Water}" I speak softly as I place my hand on his forehead, a stream washing the blood away to reveal a light green split in his forehead. I do the same with the rest of his body, washing away grits of dead flesh that didn't knit into the body and the remainder of the frost.
His body wasn't perfectly healed, but it would definitely finish the process on its own. He still shivered however, so reaching into my pack I pulled out a spare blanket. I dried him off with a rag in my pocket as best as I could, and wrapped him up in the cloth.
"You better not be an ungrateful little shit…" I muttered, swaddling him and sliding him under some brush, hopefully for him to stay safe from predators. With that out of the way I pick myself up and take off. The more distance I put between me and here the better. At least, now I actually have a direction. Directly opposite of where the goblins went.
Nolan Potts, Human (Karma: +30 [Neutral]) [13/15 Spell slots used]
Classes: Brawler (4), Ranger (3), Druid (2), Clothier (2). Total Level (11).
Spells (Druid): Frostbite, Entangle, Create or Destroy Water, Guidance, Jump, Cure Wounds, Dust Devil, Protect from Poison, Hold Person, Spike Growth
Spells (Ranger): Animal Friendship, Speak to Animals, Ensnaring Strike
Gear: Canvas Clothes (Sturdy, Weathered), Oak-Handled Brush-hook, Canvas Coyote Pack of Holding
Items of Note: World Item {Humble Beginnings}.
AN: Alright y'all, I'm gonna level with you, I'm doing this entirely as a fun little side thing which means everything else takes precedence over this. I could update in two days, could be a week, could be half a year from now. That said, I wanna at least give folks a nice read to enjoy, even if the updating itself could be unpredictable.