Fire Mana: 2/112
Water Mana: 3/111
Unconverted (Unusable) Mana: 15
Skills
Master Mana Sight: 100%
Novice Mana Communication: 1%
Novice Mana Absorption: 32%
Novice Mana Conversion: 13%
Novice Mana-formed Object Creation: 8%
Novice Core Crystallization: 4%
Novice **** Mana-formed Object Creation: 20%
Dungeon Information
(none)
All my mana is gone! Now he knew why he passed out, though he was surprised that he had at least a little bit left over from the power-sucking Object Creation gone wrong. The fact that 5 mana had already been converted meant that he must’ve been out for almost a day before he woke up. He also saw that he had a new skill, though he wasn’t sure what it meant or why it was different from the other Mana-formed Object Creation – nor why it was missing a word.
However, he put that aside until he could figure out where he was, as well as investigating how he got there. He stood up on shaky legs, the previous weakness he had felt still affecting him. That was okay, though, because he would rather be a little weak than have his mana try to fix everything wrong with him; the Object Creation process had literally sucked him dry.
And it didn’t even work.
Instead of bemoaning the fact that he had very little mana left to him, he started to look for a way out of the large wooden box he was placed in. Before he could take more than an unsteady step, however, he heard something coming from a large hole in the wall he only now realized existed near the opposite corner of the room.
Out from the hole walked what he assumed was a man (though he couldn’t be sure, as he hadn’t seen anything yet to compare the sexes), with long hair covering the bottom of his face. He had on the same bulky clothing he had seen on the other humans in the dwelling-place – along with a large bear pelt complete with hollow head laid across his shoulders. He also had on a fur-lined hat on his head that covered the sides of his face, exposing very little to the cold outside.
What the most interesting thing about him, however, was the fact that he had no mana inside his body. Fred had grown accustomed to seeing mana everywhere; there were even faint hints of it in every object in this strange wooden box. It had been in the beasts in the forest, the earth beneath his feet, in the snow that covered that earth, the air around him, and even the trees. Most of the time it was only a small amount, but it was there and visible to his mana sight. The only thing that he had seen not have any mana before this was himself, though he thought it was because he was looking at himself and figured it didn’t work like that. It turned out he wasn’t the only one.
A gust of cold air accompanied the large human on his way into the large wooden room, along with a few flakes of snow, leaving Fred glad of the formerly stifling heat. The man was also covered head to toe in snow – which, considering he probably just came from outside, meant that the sun had gone away, and a new storm had blown quickly in.
Over one shoulder, the man had another one of the long, curved wooden sticks Fred had seen on the wall, though this one had the string connecting either end. On his other shoulder, there was the corpse of a large light-brown deer, head hanging down the man’s back while he held onto its hind legs in front.
The man must not have seen him standing there, because he quickly racked the curved stick on the wall, followed by a bag full of feathery sticks, before he swung the deer carcass off his back and onto a large flat ledge jutting out from the wall. Once that was done, he turned around toward Fred and jumped back when he caught sight of him. “Ack! Whoa, child – you almost killed me right then and there! What are you doing out of bed, young’n? I would’ve thought you would sleep for another couple of days at least.”
Fred was confused at how he almost killed the man – he hadn’t even touched him. His confusion must’ve shown on his face, though it was taken the wrong way. “I’m sorry, let me introduce myself,” he said, as he started to take off snow-covered layers, placing them on a peg on the wall near the fire, “I’m Regnark, and welcome to my humble home here in Northend. Contrary to what it sounded like before, I’m glad that you’re up and around. You looked to be near death when I found you out in the forest a couple of days ago.”
A couple of days? That can’t be right – how long was I out? He didn’t get a chance to think about that anymore, however, as Regnark had finished hanging up most of his clothes, the melting snow dripping off onto the floor as the heat from the room did its work. Even without the bulky outerwear, the man was as big as a bear, though he was more graceful as he practically glided across the room and approached Fred, looking him over.
“You’re looking better, too; I thought for sure you’d have frostbite on your face and hands, at least. I’m not sure how long you were out there without any serious cold-weather gear, but even a couple of minutes can freeze the skin right off you during this season. And I haven’t seen it this bad in…oh, almost a decade I’d say.”
Now that Fred could see the man without all his gear, he saw that Regnark’s hair was a very dark brown, almost black, though there were grey streaks running through it all. The weathered-looking face had lines around the eyes and mouth, which deepened with the big full-teeth smile he was flashing.
“You’re lucky to be alive, in fact. I wasn’t expecting you to make it, in all honesty; even I would have difficulty surviving even an hour out there with the clothes I found you in. At least you had some boots on, otherwise I’m sure your toes would’ve fallen off,” Regnark observed, before he seemed to remember something. “What am I doing? You’re probably starving – sit over at the table and I’ll see if I can get you something to eat.” He waved in the general direction of the other wooden furniture in the room.
Fred, still a little disoriented about what was going on, didn’t see any reason to refuse. Once he got closer, he realized that the flat piece of wood on top of the pedestal must be the “table” the man had been talking about, so he pulled out one of the two wooden…things…placed around the table so that he could climb up top.
“I know the chairs aren’t the most comfortable, as I made them myself, but they get the job done. Just plop on down on one and I’ll get you something in a moment.”
The statement caught him right as he was raising his foot to climb, so he set it down quickly and sat down in the “chair”, his slow brain finally catching up as he figured out how everything was supposed to work. He had never had a need of a table or a chair back home, nor had his parents told him about them; the only reason he had a bed of some sort was because they had seen (or heard about) humans camping in the middle of a dungeon before. They probably didn’t bring the heavy and bulky furniture with them into the trap and defender-filled dungeon, where the cores could see them.
Regnark kept talking and asking questions while he fiddled with some things in another part of the room, though he didn’t seem to want to wait for an answer. “Yes, it sure has been a cold one this year – game is a little scarce, that’s why you’re lucky I had to go farther out to find some. It was the strangest thing; I literally tripped over you – which I thought was a corpse at first – on my way back. You were so covered in snow that if I hadn’t found you when I did, I doubt we would have found your body until the spring thaw. Not that the snow ever completely goes away this far north, it always seems to stick around the nooks and crannies of the forest even in the dead of summer.
“I brought your body back, thinking that I’d bury you when the ground thawed, but surprise, surprise – you were still warm! I didn’t know if you were still alive or not, but I thought I would at least give you a chance; I’ve seen those who’ve been stuck out in the cold so long that it was almost as if their mind froze along with the rest of their body. Anyway, what were you doing out there? And wearing nothing but a thin coat and pants? Not even a hat or nothing. Those are some strange-looking boots, I’ll tell you that – yo
u must be from far to the south, right? I hear they make some odd fashion choices, but to each their own, I say.
“I haven’t seen you around here before, and I thought I knew everyone. Not many people come up to Northend anymore, too cold for most folks. So, what brings you up to my neck of the woods? You running from something? No, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. Your business is your business, I know how it goes. Most of us are running from something now and again, so I’ll leave it to you. Unless your being here is going to cause problems for me?”
The constant stream of his monologue had been so rapid-fire and confusing that it took a moment for Fred to realize that Regnark had stopped and was looking at him for an answer.
“Uh…no…I don’t think so.”
“He speaks! So, I guess that head of yours isn’t too far gone to be able to talk; that’s usually the first thing that goes. Hopefully, you’ll be able to answer a few more questions and then I can figure out what to do with you. Here, eat up!”
A square piece of wood that had some sort of hard shiny coating on it was pushed in front of Fred, filled with a slab of what looked like burnt beast flesh and a small pile of something green and leafy. It was strange and odd, but for some reason it smelled fantastic; his stomach agreed with him by gurgling loudly.
“Sorry I don’t have any of your fancy forks like I’ve seen you southerners use, up here metal is precious, and we’d rather use it for something practical. Although, I guess I could make a wooden one…but there’s no point – my hands are made for shoving all this food in.” He put paid to his words and picked up the burnt flesh with his hands, tearing off a chunk of it with his teeth.
Fred immediately did the same and tore off a smaller bit; the moment it hit his tongue, the taste of it almost made him choke – he had never tasted anything that delicious. Ever since he could remember, he had to make do with the tasteless-yet-filling mana-formed food orbs his parents made for him, which he was thankful for – but he didn’t take any pleasure from eating them. After he had left his destroyed home behind, he never had to eat anything because the mana he had absorbed took care of sustaining his health.
This, though…this he would enjoy eating. And he did.
Faster than he thought possible, he had cleaned the wood plank of all the food on it and greedily looked for more – even the green, leafy stuff was tasty, though not as much as the burnt flesh. He looked up at Regnark and saw him sitting there with his mouth open in surprise, staring at him in shock.
“I…I guess you were hungry; do you want some more?” the man finally asked. At Fred’s nod, he pushed the rest of his barely touched meal over, still looking astonished at how quickly he had finished. I should probably eat a little slower…but this is way too good!
“By the way, I didn’t catch your name.”
Fred froze with his hand halfway to his mouth with another large chunk of flesh, thinking the question over. I guess it couldn’t hurt.
“Fredwynklemossering…but my friends call me Fred.”
Regnark laughed, though Fred didn’t know why. “Well, Fred, tell me – do you have any family I can inform about your whereabouts?”
At the mention of family, Fred’s mood darkened, and he worriedly reached up to the pouch tied around his neck, feeling it for the shards of core he had kept safe all the way from the north. Phew, it’s still there— As soon as he touched it, he knew something was wrong. Where there was supposed to be long, sharp shards of dungeon core crystal, it instead felt squishy, as if the bag had been filled with pond sand.
Opening it up with shaking fingers, he looked inside and saw that the last hope he had that he might bring his parents back somehow was crushed, ground to dust like the small particles of blue and red his bag now held. As far as he had been told, core crystals were nearly indestructible; although his parents had been destroyed, the shards they ended up as had been largely intact, as though something inside of them had exploded. But they hadn’t been smashed to pieces like this.
Whatever happened to me must’ve done this to them, as well.
He looked up at Regnark, a firm look on his face and resolve in his heart.
“Not anymore.”
Chapter 10
Regnark turned out to be a bit of an anomaly for a human; he kept to himself, rarely ventured to socialize with any of the others in Northend, and was much stronger, faster, and more agile than Fred had initially assumed. He didn’t talk about his past much, but Fred was ok with that because he didn’t want to share anything either. Either way, though, he got the impression that something tragic had happened to the large man in his former life – which only cemented their friendship even more.
It was apparently hard to travel between towns during the winter, which meant that Fred was essentially stuck there; he didn’t want to arouse suspicion by leaving when very few were capable of it. That was fine, though – he wasn’t in a huge hurry, and, besides, he had to the opportunity to learn more about the human world.
Regnark thought he might have some sort of brain damage, as there were things that he asked Fred to do that Fred had no idea what the other man was talking about. Over the next three months though, he learned the names of “common” everyday items he had never seen before, how to prepare and cook food (including the delicious meat), sharpen his knives, build a make-shift bed out of wood scraps, light a fire, and a myriad of other simple tasks that he had never had to do before.
He was beginning to like doing things for himself; although he appreciated everything his parents did for him, they essentially handed him everything he needed – even when he got older. The little independence he enjoyed and pleaded for turned out to do nothing for the skills he would need to have to be a successful human. To be fair, though, they didn’t really know what he needed, so he didn’t blame them for using their love for him to make sure he got everything he wanted, and not just needed.
What he took greatest pleasure in, however, was when they went out on hunts; the scarcity of the beasts nearby meant that they sometimes had to spend a couple hours looking for any sign of one. He learned how to track game by following the trails they left (he understood the principle, but still wasn’t too good at it), how to shoot a bow (he could hit a large tree at 50 paces, but any type of accuracy beyond that was beyond him), and even how to clean/gut/skin/dress the kills Regnark made (he actually excelled at that, due to the experience he had using his knives).
In addition, he was able to absorb the mana from beasts they killed (although, they wasn’t completely accurate, since Fred was only able to hit a deer once in the leg with an arrow). With a few simple innocent-sounding questions, he also learned that Regnark couldn’t see the released mana like he could, so he was free to soak it all up without worrying about sharing it with him. He thought that that might be the case, since he was at least in part a dungeon core, but it was nice to have a confirmation to that fact.
Although learning everything was highly beneficial if he wanted to blend into the human society, that wasn’t what he found the most enjoyable. It was the friendship and bond he felt with the large human; being able to accomplish even the simplest tasks with the help from someone else was a new and awesome experience. His parents didn’t have hands with which to “help” him, to teach him, and to demonstrate how to do things; occasionally they had one of their dungeon defenders do something for him they couldn’t do themselves, but most of the time he had to figure it out for himself.
He began to think of the talkative man as a bit of a substitute father-figure, though Regnark could never eclipse the love between Fred and his real father. It was just…different, that was all.
As a bonus, as if the experience learning so much about the human world wasn’t enough, the regular meals – along with being warmly clothed all the time – meant that his mana wasn’t being used to keep him alive.
Fire Mana: 116/116
Water Mana: 115/115
Unconverted (Unusable) Mana: 3128
&nbs
p; He was full up in his Fire and Water mana, and his “stockpile” of Unconverted Mana grew larger whenever they went out to hunt. If I stay here for a couple of years, I can let my mana capacity increase gradually, while maybe also practice using my Creation skills. He was a little hesitant to do that – due to how that ended up last time – but figured if he did it under “supervision”, Regnark would be there in case something happened.
When the weather warmed up a little and the snow began to melt, a merchant came up from the south, braving the nearly impassable roads to bring much-needed supplies to the small village. Fred learned that Northend was, indeed, just a small village – and not the huge dwelling-place he thought it first was; the thought of a larger “town” or “city” boggled his mind a little, and he couldn’t picture it.
The travel-worn merchant brought along with him some beasts-of-burden Regnark called “horses”, loaded down with bursting-full bags of supplies. Three other men accompanied him, and it was the first time Fred had ever seen anyone attired in something other than heavy coats and furs; these individuals were wearing a combination of leather and metal pieces over the vital parts of their bodies and were equipped with an extensive combination of different weapons.
Fred was currently waiting in line for the merchant alongside his new friend/companion/mentor, so he thought he would continue his education. “Regnark, who are those men there?”
His new friend/companion/mentor glanced over to where he was pointing, grunting in what Fred now knew was disdain before saying, “Those are the merchant’s guards, who are charged with protecting the goods while they travel from place to place.”
That didn’t make sense to Fred. “What do they have to protect against?”
“Well, although the risk of a wild beast attack is fairly low – even up here in the north – they are mainly there to discourage bandits from attacking. Not that they would do much good; most bandit groups would make mincemeat out of those DAS dropouts. The only reason they probably made it here safe was because no one wants to be out in this weather if they have another alternative.”
Dungeon World: A Dungeon Core Experience Page 7