Reincarnation_RPG

by Erik Colombe

  John’s black hair fell in front of his eyes. It was starting to get long from the lack of a barber. He pulled out a shiny piece of metal that was this world’s version of a mirror. He could see his reflection, barely. His fingers absently curled the hair as he thought about how he could get a haircut in the middle of the woods, and a thought struck him.

  He looked directly into the mirror and used his analyze skill on it.

  Name: John

  Level: 100

  Magic: Heal, Wind Gust, Reinforce, Ice Arrow, Fireball, GraveDigger…

  Skills: Observer, Deceiver, Thief’s Blessing, True Hunter, Throw Voice…

  Class: Human/Hero

  Experience: 298,597/300,000

  Notes: So, you finally decided to look at yourself; took you a lot longer than others. Still makes you a narcissist.

  “What the hell! Who are you?” John said to the notes section, but nothing happened.

  He looked at the mirror again and used analyze.

  Notes: I’m the one in charge of writing your stupid skills. Where did you think this information came from? Now answer quick before my magic runs out. Why haven’t you made your way to the capital?

  “What capital?” John asked, using analyze again.

  Notes: Lilzziat should have informed you! I’m running blind here and I don’t have the mana needed to keep a conversation going. Just get to the capital.

  “What freaking capital?” John asked, but nothing happened. Whoever was having a conversation with him was out of juice.

  “Great, another mystery to figure out. Well, this is one side-quest you can shove up your ass. I am going home.” John said, but only the trees were listening and they didn’t seem to care much for the conversation.

  John headed back to the caravan. He hoped there was food already cooking. He was feeling tired and the sun was starting to set. Nights were a lot darker in this world, the sky was littered with stars and galaxy gas clouds colored the sky in different hues of blue and purple, but there was no moon to light the forests at night. John didn’t know why, but it made the nights feel so much lonelier. It might have been that the familiar sky wasn’t around and even a casual glance reminded him that he was the only person who knew what was wrong with the sky. Or maybe the moon was like a friend, something so close that told people there was something beyond the clouds to reach for.

  We might not have magic, but we had the universe at the tips of our fingers.

  When John got back, he saw that the wagon had been left empty and horseless at the side of the road. The couple that had owned the wagon were sitting next to Vihpier. The husband was comforting his wife. Roc and Lidian were their names if John remembered right.

  He walked over to Saarka who had a bowl of soup ready for him.

  “What are we eating tonight?” he asked, taking the bowl before bugs could get to it.

  “Horse stew,” Saarka said.

  John thought it was bad luck to eat a horse, but he couldn’t remember why.

  Do curses from one world still matter in another? he wondered, as he ate his stew.

  “Did you get anything good from Roc?”

  “Couldn’t. Vihpier has a contract with those he travels with, who don’t have their own adventurer, that he will buy their stock at cost if something happens while in his care. Apparently, this has happened before.”

  “I take it we aren’t afforded the same protection,” John said.

  “No. Since I didn’t pay Vihpier’s protection tax, if something happens to us we are stuck under the high priest’s foot?”

  “High priest’s what?” John asked.

  Saarka gave John the same look she always did when he asked something everyone in this world should know.

  “It’s one of those… What did you call them?”

  “Colloquialisms?” John asked.

  “Yeah, that. It means he won’t pay and we’ll be left at the mercy of our fellow travelers.”

  “Based on what I’ve seen, they’re all vultures waiting for a carcass.”

  “What’s a vulture?”

  “A big bird that eats dead animals.”

  “Aye, that’s how I’d describe them. Just make sure you stay close so we don’t have any problems. I can handle the little things, but you’ve made a bad impression with those two adventurers. I tried acting like a troubled maiden to gain their sympathies and play to their egos, but I don’t think they’ll come to my aid.”

  “When do you do that?”

  “When you’re not around. I weave stories to make them think you’re unreliable and they are such powerful adventurers overflowing with honor. Makes me sick, but they seem to believe my lies, except for Mihel. He suspects you and therefore me.”

  “Do you really think I’m unreliable?” John asked

  “Do you really think I’m an innocent maiden in need of protecting?”

  John snorted and went back to his soup before it got any colder. He ate and watched the sun set over the trees as night came over the caravan. The group huddling together made small talk and Vanid pulled out his lute to play a song over the fire. Saarka kept John company for a little bit before she made her bed. It was some blankets that she set down near the wagon while Clyde was tied to a tree near the edge of the road and given some extra slack on his line.

  When everyone had moved to their respective sleeping area, Mihel came over to where John sat watching the sky, looking for familiar constellations and failing.

  “The stars sure are lovely tonight,” Mihel said.

  “I wouldn’t know, I never look at them much.”

  “That’s a fool lie, I see you staring at them every night,” Mihel said, sitting next to John.

  “Just trying to get my bearings. This is a foreign road to me,” John said.

  “I’m sure it’s more than just the road that’s foreign.”

  “Don’t know what you mean.”

  “You look at the stars like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen them and getting rid of the skarat’s corpses to hide how cleanly you sliced through their armor was a fool’s move,” Mihel said.

  John’s hand twitched, moving itself closer to the sword on his hips. Mihel didn’t seem to notice.

  “You didn’t need to get rid of them. Clemabauld and B’narld wouldn’t have looked twice. They don’t have the kind of experience that keeps you calm in this kind of situation. It’s their weakness, but discarding something valuable, that goes against any kind of sense; unless you have something to hide.”

  “I’m not hiding anything, just trying to get to Fort Light,” John said.

  “And that’s your weakness.”

  “What, a destination?” John scoffed.

  “No boy, not a destination: time. Now, don’t get me wrong I’m not trying to pry, just making some friendly talk. I’ve been working with Clemabauld and B’narld for a long time and they’ve grown. They would grow faster if they lost that damn noble pride, but that’s the problem with high borns.”

  “They’re nobles?”

  “Were nobles. Being 5th and 9th away from first born makes it hard to get recognition. Happens all the time, they take their inheritance early and the smattering of combat training they got from an uncle or father and try to make a name for themselves. Most die quick, others die slow. But you’re different; you’re not trying to make a name for yourself. You’re trying to hide and it’s making you forget where you are. You fight and live like you’re just passing through,” Mihel said.

  “That’s what we’re all doing; just passing through. Once we reach Fort Light we’ll never see each other again.”

  “Maybe we will and maybe we won’t. We may even die before we reach Fort Light with the luck we’ve had so far. But you act like it doesn’t concern you; like everyone around you are ghosts and that’s no way to live.”

  “I just want to get home and the sooner the better,” John said.

  “That right there. That’s your problem. You’re thinking about the end goal
, like nothing else matters. Let me share some hard-earned wisdom, you can spend years looking to the future, chopping down anything that gets in your way. Your eyes always on the goal but, take it from experience, you’ll get there. I know you will, but it will be hollow. You forget in your haste to make memories; to care. My father taught me something when I was young. A man is someone who establishes his roots. We’re all running to the same end, but a man who lays down roots will sleep in the shade of trees while another will fall face down in a desert, trying to reach a goal that couldn’t be reached.”

  John looked at Mihel and noticed for the first time how tired his eyes looked. The scars that littered every inch of him and how faded they were against his tanned skin.

  “Listen, I’m not good with words and I just wanted to say thanks for the help earlier. Take it or cast it aside, but don’t end up an old man with no memories, who passed through the world without leaving his mark on it.”

  John was going to say something, but none of the words really made sense to him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Mihel held up a hand.

  “Like I said, just wanted a chat. You got first watch tonight. Wake B’narld up when you start nodding off. He won’t be happy about it, but don’t let him give you any lip. Tomorrow isn’t going to be easy. And I need everyone as rested as they can be, if we can even get a peaceful night.”

  “OK, what’s that supposed to mean.”

  “Skarats hunt in packs; they drew blood and one got away. I wanted the caravan to drive through the night, but Vihpier wouldn’t hear of it. They’ll be back and in larger numbers; we’ll be moving fast tomorrow and if luck is on our side they’ll lose our trail, but luck is a cruel wench. Wake me if there’s trouble.”

  John couldn’t sleep and had kept watch longer than he needed before waking B’narld, but there was something special about a low fire and everyone else being asleep. It was like the world was on pause and he had all the time to think. However, when he looked up the missing moon always brought him back to his reality. He had never thought of it as having such significance, the heavenly body had always been there, even if it was hidden.

  What kind of culture could have developed without having a moon so close? John mused as he shook B’narld awake and went to sleep himself.

  The next day Mihel woke everyone up early. He really wished someone had a couple of energy drinks on them as they waded through the morning moving quickly through the old worn dirt road. Even with the uneven surface, he started to drift asleep in his seat as they traveled.

  Mihel’s panicked shouting snapped John out of his nap.

  “Everyone stop. Pull the carnages together, anyone who can’t fight get in the center. Clem; B’narld; John, get to the front!” Mihel shouted, so forcefully that no one questioned him.

  John rushed to the front, where he saw just open road rising over a hill.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Luck decided to sleep late today. The skarats are coming and in large numbers,” Mihel said, pulling out his pack and setting down his hammer. He put down a large claymore alongside and readied a bow and arrow.

  Vihpier appeared, holding a mace in one hand and a shield in another.

  “How much time do we have?” he asked.

  “We’ll see them coming over the hill in the next few seconds.”

  “We killed them last time and now we know how to deal with them. They shouldn’t be any trouble,” Clem said.

  “Boy, you have some skill with a sword, but you need to think. How do you figure I know they’re coming? The damn things are making the ground shake. Best bet is that there are about thirty of them. Get yourselves ready, this is a fight for your lives.”

  “Are you crazy? Why don’t we run?” Clem asked.

  “They’re faster than our horses. We defend,” Mihel shouted.

  “Hang that! I didn’t sign up to die, these people are on their own,” B’narld said.

  Mihel drew his bow and pointed it at B’narld.

  “Deserters will be shot; now make a line.”

  Clyde stepped forward next to John, saddled and ready. He dug his feet into the ground, looking ready to fight.

  “Stupid horse won’t listen to reason. John don’t let him die, we don’t have a replacement!” Saarka shouted, from the safety of the circled wagons.

  If that’s true then who the hell put your saddle on? John thought, glaring at Saarka.

  John had been thinking about running away with Clyde and Saarka and letting everyone face their own fears, then he looked around at everyone shaking and scared. They were about to face something they knew they couldn’t survive. He wanted to help, he really did, but he needed to stay hidden. The skarats were an annoyance if anything, but he had been brought into this world as a high-class meal and he didn’t know if there was anything else just waiting for him to show himself.

  While everyone else stared in front of them, John stared at the ground lost in what he wanted to do and his own fear. Mihel called out to him.

  “John, they’re almost here. If there was ever a time to live in the moment, it’s now!”

  “God damn it old man!” John said, making up his mind. He sheathed his sword and jumped onto Clyde’s back. Clyde sprinted forward toward the horde of skarats coming for them. John was already chanting a spell in his mind. The one he had used to take down a god. The one that zapped almost all his mana and left him weak. He was only a few feet over the hill away when he saw the first few skarats running toward him. They reared their heads back.

  “Ignore them. Aim for the horde!” John yelled and Clyde jumped over the skarats and their snapping jaws. That’s when John saw the mass that was heading their way. It was a pile of skarats all trying to cling to the road. They were covering each other, becoming a mass of slithering insects running toward the caravan in mindless hunger. John raised two fingers to the sky and summoned down lightning into the pile of them.

  Minus 16,000 appeared under his mana bar. It was overkill, but he was hoping that the lightning strike would seem like divine intervention and he didn’t have a better idea in his race to meet the horde.

  The mass thinned and fell, becoming only a part of what it was before. John felt his chest tighten from expending so much of his mana, but quickly caught his breath. The mass slowed, but didn’t stop and John jumped off Clyde. He didn’t have a weapon with reach to attack the skarats from horseback. Clyde seemed to be having the time of his life as he kicked and crushed any of the skarats that got close to him. John waded through the thinned horde. They overwhelmed him and tried to take bites out of him and his health bar fell by inches, but they were weak and he hacked and slashed at all of them until the skarats finally became afraid. The ones still alive ran past him and Clyde, heading toward the caravan. Clyde caught a few and John tried swiping any that passed him, but missed. His stamina was wearing thin from the constant grinding.

  He called Clyde over and mounted the horse. He looked back at the pile of twenty or so dead skarats and held out a hand.

  “Gravedigger!” he said and the ground opened up slowly, letting most of the corpses fall in before it closed quickly, draining the last of his mana. It wasn’t as neat as its previous use, and left an ugly scar in the ground as a grave marker.

  John urged Clyde back to the caravan. He didn’t know if seven of those things was too much for them.

  He rounded the hill and saw seven dead skarat bodies. The dirt was thrown up and deep gouges in the ground were easy to see. Vihpier looked like he was about to pass out from the way he was breathing, but no one seemed to have been horribly hurt. John looked at Clem and B’narld and used his analyze skill.

  Name: Clemabauld Fogtem

  Level: 17

  Magic: None

  Class: Human/Adventurer

  Common adventurer

  B’narld Farhorn

  Level: 18

  Magic: Sparks

  Class: Human/Adventurer

  Common adventurer


  Huh, they leveled up since the last time I checked.

  John rode into the ranks and dismounted when he was in front of the rank of adventurers. He looked back and forth at them; his face was a blank mask of emotion and he was desperately trying to think of what to say about what he had done. Something that wouldn’t give him away. His hands were shaking and he hid them behind his back.

  “Well! What happened?” B’narld asked, the silence getting to him.

  “There was a mass of them heading toward us. Lightning struck and they scattered in all directions. I killed a few that were headed our way. The ones that slipped passed are accounted for on the ground,” John said, his gaze low. He didn’t look up to see if they believed the lie; just kept walking over to the wagon to hitch Clyde.

  “Sounds like we’ve been given a reprieve, gentlemen. I suggest we gather the skarats and hurry on our way. There were four of us when they arrived so we should split them evenly,” Vihpier said.

  “No way, I killed three of those things myself. I’m taking them,” Clem said.

  “We don’t have time. If they come back we are dead. You have five minutes to get on the road. I’m not staying here and dying because of greed,” Mihel said, following John.

  “What happened,” Saarka asked, while John put the reins on Clyde, who seemed disappointed the fight was over already.

  “Roads clear. We’re heading out. You can drive; I’m taking a nap,” John said, climbing up the wagon and getting some blankets to try and make some kind of nest he could rest in.

  “John, what in the name of three hells did you do?” Mihel asked.

  “Like I said, nothing. The lightning came down and the rest scattered. The ones I killed are on the road ahead of us. Now, let’s go before they regroup,” John said, with a yawn.