After breakfast, Seth said his goodbyes to Melinda, and Thom walked him to the gap in the wooden wall that surrounded their village. He’d packed some extra food for Seth to take on his journey. Seth argued at first, saying that they were giving him much more than he deserved for just splitting some wood, but the rugged man wouldn’t budge.
Thom gave Seth directions to the local adventurer’s house, which actually consisted of the man verbally telling him generally where it was located. A map suddenly flashing before Seth’s eyes, showing the area surrounding the small village he stood near with emptiness all around.
A red pushpin icon blinked in the empty part of the map, to the north, indicating where Seth needed to go. The adventurer’s house was near the larger village of Bosqovar, but outside of the village itself. Thom warned Seth that there could be some creatures in the forest, but that if he stayed on the path, he’d likely be just fine.
As Seth was about to walk away, Thom became very serious suddenly, leaning forward and quieting his voice. He said, “Listen, son, I didn’t want to come out and say it, but I know the look of someone who’s a bit lost. You seem like a good lad, and we could use more able-bodied workers around here. I don’t know if you’re in trouble with the wrong people or anything, but we seldom get visitors. If you need somewhere to lay low, we know how to hide people. I mean, Nigel,” Thom hooked his thumb over his shoulder at one of the houses inside the wooden wall, “is wanted down South for… Well I probably shouldn’t say. You get the point.”
The silence dragged on for a few beats, Seth’s mouth hung open in astonishment. Before he could respond, Thom’s demeanor changed back to his normal cheery self, and he grinned and said, “But of course, if that isn’t the case, just know you’re still welcome here any time to do my chores for me!” Laughter boomed out of his chest, and he slapped Seth on the back. Seth stumbled forward several steps and even saw a message appear on his combat log.
Level 11 Scout (Thom) hits you for 1 damage.
Seth saw his red health bar fade into existence again at the bottom of his vision, though it refilled in moments and faded out again. Seth laughed and said to Thom, “You’re a pretty strong guy!”
Thom looked towards the ground, confusion etched into his features. His eyes were glazed like he was focusing on something Seth couldn’t see. Thom’s eyes slowly lifted and focused on Seth’s. He was silent for a moment, and then muttered, almost as if to himself, “Level two…?”
Seth took it that Thom had seen his level on his combat log, and that level two was some kind of anomaly. He took the hint, and before any more questions could come out, said, “Well, anyway, Thom, I really do appreciate the hospitality, but I should be on my way! Tell Melinda thanks for me again!”
He turned and trotted down the path toward the sparse trees, only daring to look over his shoulder once he’d put some distance between himself and the collection of houses. Thom stood still where Seth had left him but nodded his head once when he saw Seth looking back, before pivoting and heading back inside the wooden wall.
Seth walked down the dirt path into the trees, feeling somewhat lost. He had no clue if the adventurer that Thom mentioned would be able to help him at all, but he had latched onto it as his only lead in the strange world he’d been dropped into. He felt like his options were to move forward, or implode. His emotions were still incredibly fragile, and even thinking about his situation made him breathe heavier and clench and unclench his hands rhythmically. He fell into the familiar headspace of critiquing the usability of his surroundings.
The strange user interface that had laid itself over his vision had some issues. The bar representing his health was only present when not full, so he couldn’t currently see it. However, the combat log was always there, in the bottom left corner of his vision. He’d already gotten used to it, his brain filtering it out of his perception like it did for his nose, but he really thought it’d be better if it was only visible when he wanted to look at it.
Thinking like a UI designer had a calming effect on him. It forced him to be analytical, to put himself in a different mindset, imagining things from the perspective of other people. He calmed down, and continued walking. Seth traveled for around fifteen minutes before he encountered a forest creature. It was a mushroom man, similar to the one Seth had fought so many times during the tutorial.
This one differed however, in its demeanor and actions upon noticing him. This mushroom man looked at Seth with uncertainty, rather than hatred, and just kind of froze when they spotted each other. There was a pale-yellow glow surrounding the creature’s body, but Seth had no clue what it could mean, and wondered if it was some kind of fungus magic about to clog his lungs.
After several moments of awkward stillness, Seth decided to try to make peace, feeling kind of bad for killing this creature’s cousin a few dozen times. The mushroom man just stared at Seth like he was crazy regardless of what he said though, and whether he said it in the new language that had inserted itself in his brain or in English.
Finally, Seth got brave enough to step forward towards the mushroom man, but as soon as he did it raised its claws in a threatening posture, and Seth decided to back off, hands raised palm out.
Seth eventually awkwardly shuffled in a wide arc like that, trying to look as non-threatening as possible, and eventually made it past the creature. After he was around thirty yards away, backing down the dirt path, the mushroom man seemed to lose interest and disappeared into the trees.
Seth continued walking down the path for several more hours. The trees looked like any trees he would’ve seen back on Earth, and he even saw some squirrels sprint up the side of one and disappear into a canopy as he walked.
The temperature was comfortable, and a cool breeze blew by occasionally. Seth tried to think back to what the goddess in the tailored suit had called the place. “Morgenheim,” Seth said aloud, feeling the word in his mouth. So far, even if it was a bit strange, Morgenheim seemed like a pretty nice place.
After several hours of walking, and a few more instances of avoiding leery fungus men, the trees began to thin completely to grassland, and Seth started seeing farmsteads with people working in fields. He came up over the crest of a moderately sized hill and took in the view of Bosqovar for the first time, willing his map open to confirm he was in the right place.
The town proper was comprised of less than twenty buildings, but unlike the outlying colony he’d found himself in during the previous day, the buildings were noticeably larger and nicer, and the surrounding area had quite a few farms within view from the hilltop he stood on.
No wall or palisade surrounded this city, but he could see the buildings were arranged in such a way, butting against one another, that there were only three entrances to the town. Seth could see people milling about the center of the small town, and what looked like shop tents set up along the main path through the buildings.
A large windmill dominated the view of the town, its blades spinning lazily in the late morning breeze. From where Thom had marked his map earlier in the day, Seth knew the adventurer he sought out lived along the path that exited from the north of the village, and he was currently south of town. Seth decided that he might as well head through the town and see if they were as welcoming as the outlying colony had been.
He started down the hill he’d just crested, thinking it would only take him perhaps fifteen minutes of walking to reach the southern entrance to Bosqovar, when he heard a strange hiss off to his left. Seth turned, expecting to see another mushroom man, but was greeted by a dark blue beetle the size of a large dog. He recoiled in disgust as the beetle began toward him, unhurried yet obviously aggressive.
Seth tried to back off, his hands in the air again as if he were being put under arrest, but the beetle let another hiss out of its mandibles and quickened its pace toward him. At this point, he noticed a slight red tinge in the air surrounding the beetle, similar to the unexplained yellow aura that had surrounded all the mushr
oom men he’d encountered along his journey, and it clicked. A yellow aura meant the creature would fight if Seth drew too close but, apparently, creatures with red auras would actively seek to chase him down.
Seth squared his shoulders and drew his blade from its place at his side as the beetle finished its many-legged approach. The monster lurched at him with no decorum, though Seth didn’t know what kind of witty banter he could have expected from a giant insect.
As its pincers lunged toward his chest, Seth brought his sword to bear and hammered it down on the creature’s head, his arms screamed from the effort, but the sword made a dent.
Unfortunately for Seth, that dent wasn’t enough. A health bar similar to the one he’d seen in the lower left of his vision appeared above the creature’s head showing roughly seventy percent health. His blow had done its job and diverted the creature's mouth away from him, but one of its six legs raked down the front of his left leg, tearing into his brown linen pants and leaving a nasty wound.
Level 3 Beetle hits you with slash for 30 points of damage
Seth’s health bar appeared in its usual place and quickly dropped to just above half. His heart started hammering, and his breath hitched as he took in the fact that his leg was now bleeding freely, and that the beetle had done way more damage to him than he had to it, at least relative to each of their total health pools.
Seth shook himself out of the daze and felt an unfamiliar feeling creep over his mind. The fear and shock faded almost entirely, and were replaced suddenly with a feeling of rage at this creature, which dared attack him unprovoked. A new bar appeared stacked right above his sorry looking, half-full health bar, this one a sickly yellow color. Somehow, without any visible information, a few pieces of knowledge slammed into Seth’s mind.
This new bar, which was now flashing at fifteen percent full, was his fury meter, his special warrior metric that allowed him to perform warrior specific moves. Again, without knowing how he knew to do it, Seth activated his only ability with an effort of will, and his sword lurched at the bug’s face, scoring a direct hit. The beast reeled backwards at the blow, exposing its underbelly while it tried to collect and reorient itself.
You hit Beetle with Deliberate Strike for 12 points of damage. Beetle is vulnerable for 4 seconds.
Seth’s fury bar dropped low and he felt the rage ease its grip on his mind. Before he knew what he was doing, Seth shot in closer to the monster, taking advantage of its vulnerable state, and opened two gashes across its belly. The monster hissed one more time, this one weaker, before falling on its side and then rolling to its back, belly up.
Seth stood over the dead monster in shock, unable to process both the harrowing fight, and the new information that kept getting directly embedded into his brain. Seth glanced at his bloodied leg and reached into the small pouch Thom had given him as he departed that morning and pulled out the small glass vial, no larger than his index finger, filled with ruby red liquid.
He yanked the stopper from the glass with his teeth and poked his tongue at the liquid. It tasted like overly sugary red Gatorade, so he downed it in one gulp and looked down to see what effect it had. As he stared, the skin on either side of the gash began to knit together and, within seconds, the wound was entirely gone, no scarring at all.
You’ve slain Beetle, +63 experience, 197 experience until level 3.
Simple health potion heals you for 30 points.
The lack of a scar brought up another question. Seth pulled his hand up in front of his face and looked at the scar between his index finger and thumb from where he’d sliced his hand open in fourth grade with a scalpel from a frog-dissection kit a well-meaning cousin had gifted him for his birthday.
It was there, exactly as it had been for most of his life, yet the giant gash on his leg, which might have actually killed him had he not handled it, was gone without a trace. Seth wondered if he let a wound heal naturally, instead of with a potion, if a scar would form. He’d probably have the chance to find out, as he still had a decent amount of ground to cover before he reached the town, and had just drank one of his only two health potions. He groaned aloud when he realized he also had no money to buy anything either.
Seth stood and stretched his just-healed leg, marveling at the utter lack of any pain or soreness, and frowned at the bloody gash still present in his pants. Unfortunately, he didn’t have any potions to cure that. This line of thinking brought Seth’s memory of the featureless black void before he entered the tutorial to the forefront of his mind, and he wondered if his accidental selection of Quick Change Artist came with an extra set of clothes. As with all skills available to him, Seth knew that he had access to the Quick Change skill, that it cost nothing, and that there was no cooldown. He mentally activated it and felt the breeze as he stood stark naked on the hillside.
Seth frantically looked around as he mentally activated the skill again, seeing the clothes pop back into existence around his body. “Bloody pants it is,” he muttered to him as he resumed his trek towards Bosqovar, determined to avoid any more giant insects.
Chapter 5
Seth approached the southern entrance to Bosqovar several minutes later, thankful that he hadn’t encountered any more nightmare fuel, gargantuan insects. There was a man leaning nonchalantly against one of the buildings, near where Seth would have to walk to enter the little town center. From afar, it had looked like the strategic entrances to Bosqovar were unguarded, but as Seth approached, he realized this man might’ve been a guard for the town.
The man looked to be in his late thirties or early forties. His skin was quite tan, and consequently looked more wrinkled than it probably should have for his age. Seth idly wondered if skin cancer existed in Morgenheim. The guard’s hair was dark, and black stubble covered his cheeks, chin, and neck. There was a touch of gray at his temples.
He wore armor that looked to be made of a mix of leather, chainmail, and some metal plating in strategic areas. A chainmail shirt covered his entire torso, and big bands of stiff-looking leather overlapped each other over his midsection. A dull metal dome covered the man’s left shoulder, and a similarly sized one of leather covered his right shoulder.
A single sword was belted to the man’s left hip, similar to Seth’s own, but the pommel gleamed in the sunlight. Every other piece of metal in the man’s outfit seemed like a kind of dull iron, but his sword almost could have been pure silver based on how much it shined. Seth could see intricate details worked into the shiny metal, even from a distance. He immediately assumed that the man must be wealthy, then wondered why a wealthy man would be guarding the entrance to a small town.
The man eyed Seth but didn’t change his relaxed posture as he neared. Everyone Seth had met at the village had been dressed somewhat like himself, in medieval style linen pants and shirts, but this man looked as if he were ready to sprint into battle at any moment. Seth was intimidated.
As Seth finished walking up, the man’s eyes flitted down to his sword at his belt, and then lingered on the torn and bloody section of his pant leg. The man’s eyes finally rose to meet Seth’s own, and he said, “What’s your business in Bosqovar?” The man sounded incredibly bored, like he’d said the phrase thousands of times.
“Well, I’m looking for the local adventurer. Thom from the outlying village sent me, I know her house is out to the north, but figured I might pass through the town on my way,” Seth said, clenching his jaw to force himself to stop talking. He tended to ramble to those in positions of authority, and the man’s whole demeanor reminded Seth of a traffic cop. Better to talk the minimum amount, and not accidentally tell the nice man with the fancy sword about how he’d just kind of appeared in a field the day before.
The guard nodded at the mention of Thom, and when Seth finished, he said, “Fine by me, just don’t cause any trouble in town.” He lazily waved his hand and returned to staring into the distance, completely dismissing Seth.
Seth walked through the gap between the two large buildi
ngs and into the town itself. The building on the left of the entrance appeared to be some kind of blacksmith’s shop, and a loud clanging could occasionally be heard emanating from the open doorway. The building on the right looked like some kind of tavern or inn, with a looming second story filled with tiny windows. A sign hung from a post of wood above the door and proclaimed it to be called The Ugly Wench.
“Wow,” Seth muttered to himself, “at least they’re honest?”
He passed up the blacksmith’s shop and The Ugly Wench and went deeper into the village. There were even more people out and about than he had originally thought from the hilltop overlooking the area, and Seth kind of appreciated the fact that none of them seemed to give him a second look. People would glance at his torn pant leg here and there but, apparently, that kind of thing wasn’t too rare, as their eyes just kept on moving, looking for whatever shop they wanted to find.
Seth spotted a tent after a few minutes with a single old woman sitting behind a table containing what looked like stacked clothing and blankets. He walked toward her, and her eyes instantly locked onto him through the crowd. Seth was surprised at the ferocity in her stare, her quick eyes darted all around him, and he felt like she was seeing right through him and into his soul.
Her eyes met Seth’s, and she spoke, “It appears you could use a new pair of pants, boy. Why don’t you buy some off old Glenda?” Her voice was that of an ancient granny, but Seth had a feeling she was playing it up. She had the keen eyes of a salesman, a predator.
“Well, ma’am, I’d love to get a new pair of pants but, unfortunately, I don’t have any money. Are there any chores I could do for you to earn some clothing?” Seth saw her eyes dull as soon as the words “don’t have any money” left his mouth, but her gaze lit up brightly when he offered to work for her. For some reason, that unsettled Seth.
“There is something you can do for little old Glenda, boy. It looked like you walked in from the south just now, did you see a small pond a few minutes’ walk in that direction?” Seth recalled passing a small pond to the side of the dirt path as he’d walked the final stretch to Bosqovar, but he hadn’t gone near it, as it had absolutely reeked. He’d simply quickened his pace and kept moving.
Quick Change Volume 1: Slyborn Page 4