Unused Attribute Points: 3
Unused Skill Points: 1
At least there was some good news, Garath mused. He would allocate his APs some other time, ideally at a time that he was not inside of a Dragon. He dismissed the congratulatory prompt and read on.
Congratulations, Garath! For leading a Raid that slayed over 1,000 enemies without losing a single member, you have been awarded a rare gift.
*Note: as you were dead when this gift was to be awarded, it has been placed in your Items panel.*
With zero hesitation, Garath opened his Menu panels and filled the right third of his vision with the Items partition. Sure enough, something new was stored in his grid-like inventory - a silver egg icon. With barely contained excitement, he focused on the egg and willed his UI to provide more information.
You have found an egg. If left in your Items panel, this egg will remain in stasis. If removed and cared for, however, it will hatch.
‘My powerful gift is an egg?’
He wondered if the occupant of the silvery shell would be some kind of pet or familiar... or maybe even a Dragon? Unfortunately, clamped between Aldrasyl's teeth in House Cat form, he was unable to access the items in his inventory. Just one more reason to hope the Ice Drake would return his consciousness to this plane soon. Garath continued to scan over the cascade of prompts that had been waiting for his attention.
Further changes to Earth are scheduled to take place in the near future but the following changes will be made at 00:00 GST:
1. Loot is now available! Slay monsters, complete quests, clear dungeons, and claim Dungeons to gain powerful rewards.
2. Professions are now available. Though technologies of the past are lost forever, many exciting new possibilities await.
3. World Map updated to reflect the habitat(s) designated for Dragons (depicted in gold). For your own safety, avoid these areas.
4. Ten Dungeons (depicted on the World Map by a purple icon) have been established across the globe.
7. Emissaries from each of the sentient races that will soon inhabit this planet will be searching for a suitable location to establish their respective societies. Do not interfere with the Emissaries.
There was much of the last prompt Garath didn't understand. His emotions struggled against one another - relief, fear, excitement, and sorrow filled him to bursting but were ultimately suppressed by his strongest emotion, unadulterated rage. What or who, in any universe or dimension, had the mother-fucking right to administer this near-genocide to just to, what? Make room for other sentient races?
Disgusted by the whole idea, and hoping Aldrasyl was really fucking enjoying his inordinately long look at the glade that so reminded him of his home, the Necrologist read on.
Hear this, survivor of The Culling, your species is scattered across the globe and stands little chance of survival. To prevent the extinction of man, defeat a Dungeon and release the Fountain of Tabisama contained within - the Fountain is an item of amazing power that will allow any human within 1,000 miles of the Fountain to instantly transport to it.
Once defeated and claimed, Dungeons can serve as a protected and resourceful home for humans. The powers, items, and mysteries available within will provide humans with all they need to once again reign supreme on Earth.
Be warned, in 30 days humans will not be the only sentient race vying for power on this planet, nor the only species able to defeat and claim a Dungeon. Use the next thirty days wisely, your action or inaction will heavily impact the future of mankind and its place among the sentient races.
Garath was intrigued by the whole idea of these ‘Dungeons’ - and similarly confused by the differentiation of dungeon and Dungeon. The ability provided by the Fountain of Tabisama, having a basic town portal spell, could be a massive boon! Curious about the idea of a real life Dungeon, and without additional prompts to distract him from the pain and puke-inducing odors wafting into his nose and mouth, Garath once again opened his MENU panels and willed his World Map into existence, filling the left side of his vision with a 3D globe that panned over North America, then zoomed to his position in the Pacific Northwest. The Band of the Hawk, depicted by green dots where each Raid member stood, were in a crowded circle around his own location. To the south, right where Seattle had been, was a glowing red overlay surrounding exactly what Garath was looking for: the purple icon of a Dungeon. The icon looked like a twisted, evil version of something that everyone in the PNW recognized as the tourist trap they would have to show visiting relatives that came to visit: The Space Needle.
When he focused on the icon, more information was displayed on the previously empty, right-side panel.
Dungeon Name: Tower of Vy'thishrak
Maximum Party Size: 10
Disappointed by the less-than-illuminating information provided but still stoked that one of the ten Dungeons was nearby, the fluffy Necrologist felt a hint of life enter the dormant Ice Drake. The powerful beat of Aldrasyl's heart once again pushed oxygen and nutrients through his veins. The Dragon opened his mouth and inhaled sharply, releasing his death-clamp on the tiny creature stuck between his teeth like yesterday's lunch.
With profound relief that the wait was finally over, Garath struggled to remove his injured body from the toothy guillotine. He rolled his broken form out of Aldrasyl's mouth to land with a wet schlap on the ice-covered asphalt.
Finally out of the smelly, organic iron-maiden, Garath squinted to adjust to the morning light pouring over the mountains from the east. He and Aldrasyl were surrounded by some kind of protective barrier. The shield itself was a blue, crystalline shell that began to slowly dissolve as Aldrasyl's mind was returned to his body. A timer with a small blue icon appeared in Garath's vision, counting down from five. As the seconds ticked down, small gaps appeared across the protective shell, growing in width until, at zero, the entire shell was gone.
As the first light of day had breached the mountains to the east and sent rays of warmth and light across the burning landscape, Garath returned to his natural form. Still lying on the unnaturally frozen ground, he was reminded again of his improved sense of smell. The rest of the Raid was surrounding the injured human and waking Dragon, and they had been sweating from stress, anxiety, and fighting for twenty-four brutal hours. The myriad of individual body odors stung his nostrils, causing him to crinkle his face in disgust. All 143 of them just stared past their injured Raid leader at Aldrasyl, unmoving and frozen with fear.
The Necrologist summoned the Health Potion from his Items panel and downed the rejuvenating liquid. The worst of the pain was quelled as a rush of healing relief washed over him and his Health bar filled by 10% instantly, then continued to rise steadily.
Despite all that had happened, despite all that he didn't understand, Garath was never more sure of who he wanted to be and what he wanted to do. He wanted to be a hero of Earth, and the hero Earth needed was a gamer. Someone who could defeat a Dungeon and usher in a new era for mankind.
‘A gamer,’ he thought to himself, ’me.’
The Necrologist got to his feet and smiled weakly before saying the only thing that came to mind. "Who’s coming with me to the Dungeon?!"
Part Two: Aftermath
Chapter 24
Your Egg is a What??
Every one of the human survivors experienced the aftermath of The Culling differently. For most it was a time of mourning, everyone had lost loved ones. For some, it was a time of religious contemplation, not a single theology held up in light of the devastating event. Others still considered it a time worthy of celebration, despite the near genocide, they had survived. For some fewer still, it was like fucking Christmas. They were actually living out their dream of living in a magical world with endless possibilities. For Garath though, it was a time of experimentation and exploration.
The twenty-nine-year-old Necrologist hadn't been alone in his search for greater knowledge concerning this new Earth. The World panel, only days after the near genocide of the human race, was quickly
filling up with information on the forums. There wasn't a wiki for the changes that had taken place on Earth but gamers across the globe had been putting in the work with the same passion they always had when exploring new games. They tested and collaborated in typical elitist fashion, mapping the Skill trees of each Class and debating the best allocation of Skill and Attribute Points. There were hundreds of forums with discussion and speculation covering everything from stat breakdowns and diminishing returns to the theological and scientific implications of the event that had changed the world.
Though combing through the information in the forums and even providing his own speculation here and there was quickly becoming a favorite hobby, it was far from the only thing demanding Garath's time. The Undead and Wyverns of The Culling wreaked havoc on the landscape, destroying nearly everything in sight. And anything they missed was handily mopped up by the wave of Dragons The Culling had brought to Earth as a finale. Food, water, and shelter had become a hot commodity literally overnight.
Luckily, the Church of Immaculate Conception was one of the few buildings still standing. Garath's Raid Group, The Band of the Hawk, had set up a base camp inside the sturdy, red-brick, converted school building. Gary, an Armoron by class who had joined The Band of the Hawk with his two sons and three nephews during The Culling, had taken the initiative to fortify and rearrange the building to accommodate everyone as much as possible. In the days that followed the horrendous event, Gary and his five boys worked tirelessly to board up the windows and empty the rooms of the three-story building to free them up for living spaces. Shelter, check.
In the Pacific Northwest, water was never far away. Unfortunately, in Everett, there was little in the way of freshwater and July was one of the few times of year that rain was not a regular occurrence. Fortunately, a few members of The Band were gifted with cleansing Skills, such as Sharon's Cure Poison, that made ocean water safe for consumption. Water, check.
Food was easily the biggest concern. Although Garath and Athios were able to transport large amounts of packaged foods - though, largely it was just crates piled with packaged military rations - from the basement of a nearby Salvation Army location. That was the only salvageable food they found on multiple scouting trips around the decimated city. They all knew the rations wouldn't last forever, especially with well over one-hundred mouths to feed and more survivors in the area joining The Band each day.
Another boon of being in the Pacific Northwest were the salmon. As they always had been, salmon were the lifeblood of the evergreen state. In addition to the salmon, the PNW was ripe with blackberries in the late summer and, with the fish and berries supplementing their limited supply of military rations... Food, check. For now at least.
***
On a beautiful evening, the sixth day following The Culling, in the purple-ish twilight of a Pacific Northwest summer, Gary and his five red-headed boys were joined by the young Elementalist, Daisy, on a rickety wooden dock stretching over the calm ocean. Each of the seven adventurers held a long, flexible stick with varying amounts of fishing line connecting them to the dark blue waters of the Pacific.
Daisy had begun to grow impatient about thirty-seconds after her bait entered the water and handed her pole to Brandon, the younger of Gary's two sons. She stood and marched to the end of the dock where Gary and his elder son sat with the oldest of Gary's three nephews.
"I think the Dragons must have killed all the fish," said Daisy in her most adult voice. The eleven-year-old girl thought she sounded quite mature and was happy to provide Gary with the information he needed to avoid the unbearable boredom of literally just sitting there for hours, staring at the water. The little girl blushed wildly when all three of them started laughing.
"Oh, I don't think so,” Gary said, smiling from behind his red bush of a beard. “Have you ever been fishing, Daisy?"
"No."
"Well bring your pole over and sit down. I'll teach you," Gary said patiently. "There's a bit of a trick to it."
As Gary smiled warmly and nodded encouragingly at the impatient young girl, the tip of his pole dipped hard and he instinctively yanked back to sink the hook. Without proper fishing poles there was no way to reel in his catch, so the lumberjack looking man got to his feet and started to back-peddle toward shore. His makeshift fishing pole danced wildly as what appeared to be a very large fish yanked this way and that, breaking the otherwise rolling waves into foamy white splashes. When his bare feet reached the white sand at the end of the dock he handed the pole to Daisy, who had followed him excitedly. Gary grabbed the line with both hands. With little effort, the bearded man manually reeled in the fighting Chinook Salmon, pulling it in one hand over the other with his muscular arms until it wriggled and flopped desperately in the sand.
After Gary managed to make the first catch of the day, he explained to Daisy that the trick to fishing is patience. A quality of which the young Elementalist had very little.
Daisy was, however, determined to bring fresh fish to the Raid back at base camp. Her Gran had refused to eat the food rations on the basis that they ‘tasted like old sneakers' and Daisy knew the old bird needed her strength if she was going to make it on this new Earth.
After three painstakingly long minutes of being patient, Daisy still hadn't gotten a bite. Again, she handed her pole to Brandon and marched to the edge of the pier. Frustrated, she gathered her will and released her anger with a simple spell-cast and shouted a high-pitched, "BLAST!"
An orb of orange fire the size of a beach ball shot from her outstretched hands and detonated into a ten-foot explosion on the water's surface.
"Daisy!" Gary reprimanded the girl. "You just scared away every fish within a mile of here!"
Daisy's golden curls covered her face as she stared down at the steaming water in shame. "I'm sorry. I just..." she started to apologize but was distracted when a massive Chinook bubbled to the surface, motionless. Then another surfaced, and another. Daisy, Gary, and the boys watched in awe as more than twenty fish surfaced and lay bobbing up and down in the tide over the next few seconds.
Gary smiled as he processed what had just happened. "Blast fishing is actually the term used for fishing with dynamite," he said, laughing to himself at the irony. "I don't know if that blast killed them or just knocked them though.” He turned to the boys watching from the dock. “Let's see if we can't get them out of the water before we find out."
Without further instruction, all five red-headed boys ditched their shirts, jumped into the water, and started to drag the bobbing fish to shore.
"Hey Gary, you guys okay? I just heard an explosion from your direction, me and Athios are heading your way!" Garath's voice boomed into Gary’s mind over the Raid communication channel.
"We're fine," Gary replied as he pulled his own shirt over his head, exposing a wild mess of flaming red body hair. "Daisy was just doin' some fishing."
"You look like a rug," Daisy observed with a crinkled face.
"Fishing?" Garath asked over the Raid channel. "Daisy? Does she have the patience for that kind of... oh. Never mind," came his voice over the communication channel again as he and Athios popped into view from the east.
Standing side by side the Necrologist and Dimensionalist fell through a white disk below their feet and disappeared, only to reappear falling from a second disk thirty-meters closer to the shore. Before they hit the ground, Athios cast another disk and placed it between the two of them and the grass below, they fell through again and emerged from another white disk a few feet from where Daisy and Gary stood at the edge of the dock.
"You look like a rug," Garath observed.
"I've heard," said Gary. He and Daisy looked at each other and burst into laughter.
Satisfied that nobody was in mortal peril and thrilled about the haul of fish coming back to BOTH HQ (The Church of Immaculate Conception), Garath ruffled Daisy's hair - a gesture she didn't appreciate as much as he would have hoped. Garath's intense features and eyes that glowed wh
ite in the sockets frightened the young girl. Athios laughed openly as Daisy shied away from his touch, wincing.
"Good work, Daisy." Garath settled for verbal positive reinforcement and turned to Gary. "Your boys need a hand?"
Gary turned to the west and squinted into the setting sun. Garath, Athios, and Daisy winced at Gary's flaming sheepskin back.
"You know, I think they've got this," he decided as one after another red-headed boy threw a fish onto the sand before jumping right back into the water. Gary's oldest son, Braden, gathered each beached fish and bashed its head with a rock before throwing the slimey corpse onto a blanket laid out on the sand.
The Culling of Man: A litrpg adventure (Peril's Prodigy Book 1) Page 19