‘These people deserved better,’ I thought, returning to my feet. ‘Every one of them was a breathing thinking person with hopes and dreams, friends and family. They were people with love, joy, and laughter.’
Memories of everyone in Mill Valley flashed through my mind. Rowley’s unending hospitality welcoming me back after a hard day, Kanis’ begrudging praise when I finally succeeded in forging something that didn’t look like post minimalist cubism, the seductive sway of Lilith’s hips, and the numerous faces of people I never really knew, people I had sold a lamp to or simply passed by on the street. They all haunted me.
I did what little I could for them. I gave them a burial. Come spring the snow would have melted revealing the bodies, so I cleared away the snow as best I could and replaced it with a layer of dirt. I didn’t have a shovel and the ground was too frozen to use my hands, so I took up a sharp slap of wood and pounded into the ground, leaned against the primitive shovel substitute with all my weight, and forced a frozen block of soil out. I lugged the ice boulder to the site and set it down. I repeated these steps as long as it took, breaking some soil off from the frozen ground, hauling it to the remains, and piling it up. Throughout the night, I received messages warning about the cold and reducing my stats all the way down to 5 percent. As my stats weakened, my progress slowed. Each lift of the shovel, each step toward the growing burial mound took a bit longer and a bit more effort, but I didn’t care. No matter how bad or weak I became, I knew it was right. What was the worst that could happen to me after all? I was immortal. Unlike the good people who had welcomed me into their home, who were now gone for good, I couldn’t go away. I’d always be back.
By the time I finished, two whole days had passed. The sun was setting. I stared over the completed burial mound and let my mind wander over the lost people of Mill Valley for a final time. This task was complete. It was time to move on. I looked over to the mountains to the west and the sun setting behind them.
‘The fall of Mill Valley is just the beginning,’ I thought. ‘If the beastmen are willing to end centuries of relative peace and wipe out a town this large, something must have changed. They won’t stop here. They’ll find other towns, cities even. More people will be slaughtered, more lives will be ruined.’
“I can’t let this tragedy be repeated. I won’t,” I swore aloud.
My oath was made mostly to myself, to make the statement more concrete, more real, but as if answering my desires a new system message appeared.
You have acquired a new quest: †Herald of Northern Aggression†
The beastmen of the Othal Confederation have wiped out Mill Valley. They pose an imminent threat to all of Xebrya. Spread word of Mill Valley’s annihilation and the threat posed by the beastmen. Don’t rest until all cities, towns, and villages across the nation are aware of the danger. The sooner word spreads, the better people will be able to prepare and more lives will be spared.
Difficulty: ******
Reward: Unknown
This is an arduous burden for someone of your level. Do you still accept this quest?
Y/N?
“Yes,” I immediately answered. “I accept this quest.”
Chapter 13: Mountain
‘A quest to warn of an impending invasion…’ I looked to the west. The mountains were still blanketed in white. ‘I can’t wait for the snow to melt. Each day the warning is delayed could mean hundreds of lives. I need to go now.’ I decided to attempt to cross those frigid peaks regardless of the weather. What did I have to fear? With nothing to lose but a hay filled toga and sandals, I began preparing for the journey.
The beastmen had taken nearly everything of value, but they did leave a few things behind. When I checked my room, I found that miraculously it had been spared from the looting. A couple of the rooms in the inn showed signs of being searched, but presumably because nothing of value was found in them, the beastmen hadn’t bothered searching the rest. I recovered my Earth items and the tools I used in forging and crafting my beautiful creations. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any of those creations. I had taken them all with me the night of the invasion and when I died, all were lost. I would have to start from scratch.
Finding food turned out to be surprisingly easy considering how much the beastmen took. People in Mill Valley had been quite religious. Nearly every home had a small family altar at which they prayed to their gods. Many of these altars had small amounts of food, placed as offerings. I don’t know whether it was out of religious superstition or clemency, but the beastmen left the altars and everything on them untouched.
I didn’t really have such hang ups so I went ahead and took the food and anything else that could be useful. While each altar was small, the goods from dozens of houses added up.
With my nutritional needs met, I moved onto other tasks. Driven by the horrors I had witnessed, I became the embodiment of hard work. The opportunity to prevent its recurrence pushed me to spend every moment wisely. I couldn’t bare the dangers of the wilderness without a means to defend myself, so my next job was rebuilding my arsenal. I had my tools and Kanis’ forge remained intact but I had a hard time finding metal to forge with. The beastmen seemed to have gone out of their way to acquire every scrap they could find and even the raw ore in Kanis’ workshop was missing. With a lack of options, I spent days on my hands and knees yanking out nails from floorboards. Each nail was a couple grams of iron so it took hundreds to make even the lightest weapon.
As soon as I had enough metal, I forged a basic spearhead and attached it to a charred shaft of wood I’d salvaged from the ruins of the shelter. I would have preferred something akin to the collapsible spears I’d lost, but they took a lot more metal and I dreaded just thinking about how many nails would be required.
†Flame-licked Vengeful Spear†
Damage: 22-27
Durability: 300/300
Requirements: Level 15
Additional Attributes: Burn Resistance +10%, Damage vs. Beastmen + 20%
Description: Crafted from the ruins of Mill Valley. Blade forged from the nails of abandoned structures. Staff salvaged from the ashes of town hall. Made in commemoration of the lives lost and ruined on that fateful day and infused with the spirit of vengeance.
I looked over the strange additional attributes of my new spear. Some of my elaborate gadgets possessed additional attributes. My collapsible spears did extra damage while they were extending, but that matched its physical nature. ‘Was it the materials I had used or was it the intentions of the maker?’ I debated. The burn resistance could have come from the staff. It had already been burned and wouldn’t catch fire easily. However, the damage buff vs. beastmen seemed to come from my subconscious intentions. My mind still burned with a desire to avenge the people of this town.
‘Both,’ I decided and as if to confirm my thoughts, the system sent a message.
You have gained greater insight to the art of forging
†Blacksmithing† has reached level 10
†Blacksmithing Lvl.10 (2.3%)†
Allows forging of metal objects
Can imbue forged items with special attributes
Knowledge of weapons reduces weapon requirements by 10%
Knowledge of armor reduces armor requirements by 10%
New spear in hand, I started another project. I needed to protect against the frigid cold of the tall snow covered mountains and, to that end, I started hunting in the woods. I didn’t do it for the meat but for their warm fur skins. Squirrel and rabbit pelts were small and I didn’t have much faith in my sewing skills so I searched the rocky regions for natural caves and dens containing hibernating bears. Although I would have preferred not having to learn it the hard way, the bears were easy prey so long as I was quiet and relied on a single precise blow. After I had enough, I went back to crafting.
The next days I worked to put together all the items I needed. While the sun was up, I used the bountiful light to sew together a set of thick fur coat, pants, and
cap and whittle a pair of wide soled snowshoes out of wood. At night, I was warmed by the heat of the forge as I melted down more nails to make a few smoke bombs and an extra compact electric lamp. Finally, after two weeks of preparation I was ready.
“Status,” I said, summoning up the menu so I could check my condition one last time.
Name
†Isaac N. Stein†
Level
19
Class
†Blacksmith†
Exp
2777/3050
Health
200/200
Satiety
100/100
Stamina
300/300
Hydration
100/100
Mana
0/0
Status
OCD
Vitality
20
Strength
15
Agility
25
Endurance
30
Magic
0
Dexterity
27
Energy
0
Defense
16 (+23)
Intelligence
32
†Skills†
†Cooking Lvl. 4 (16.8%)†
†Hammer Mastery Lvl. 1 (26.4%)†
†Skinning Lvl. 4 (16.2%)†
†Spear Mastery Lvl. 9 (34.8%)†
†Repair Lvl. 2 (17.0%)†
†Blacksmithing Lvl. 10 (5.7%)†
†Leatherworking Lvl. 2 (3.3%)†
†Carpentry Lvl. 1 (17.7%)†
By hunting in the woods, I regained the level I lost from dying. I divided most of the stat points between stamina, dexterity, and agility. I could have put more points in endurance or defense; they would have improved my survivability in combat, but decided against it. Higher stamina let me work harder and longer without tiring. Dexterity improved my coordination. And agility let me do everything a bit faster, whether it was running, working, or attacking. Endurance and defense were only useful when you were near death. Stamina, dexterity, and agility were useful all the time.
I was in peak condition and had everything I needed for the attempt over the mountain, so I closed the status window and began my long trek. Once I was on the other side, I would head to Crystalpeak, it was the largest city in this part of the country, from there word could quickly spread to even the smallest villages. The quest required everyone to learn of the beastmen, not that I deliver the message personally.
As I walked, I maintained the work ethic I had during my preparations. Whenever I saw an unfamiliar plant, I stopped to analyze it. If the analysis revealed a potentially useful property, I added it to my bags. Among the most intriguing things I found were fluoroantimonic lemons and purple artichokes.
†Fluoroantimonic Lemon†
Durability: 100/100
Effects: Acidic
Description: Take care not to confuse these lemons with the ordinary variety. The juice of this lemon is one of the world’s strongest acids. The lemon is covered by a thick layer of skin. Take care not to accidentally pierce it. The results could be deadly.
†Purple Artichoke†
Durability: 10/10
Effects: Fire Resistance
Description: Only grows in cold places. The vegetable constantly gives off a cold aura. If ingested directly can cause hypothermia. Consuming also greatly increases fire resistance. When mixed by alchemists with other herbs can create a potion that temporarily makes the user immune to all fire. Also known as Ice Queen’s Heart or Firewalker Essence.
I felt sure the plants would come in handy and even if I couldn’t find a use for them, I could always sell them once I got to Crystalpeak. The city was famous for its magic academy and the large number of mages who resided there. Mages loved experimenting with all variety of strange substances, so they should fetch a high price. When I died, I lost everything, including all of my earnings from the lightbulbs. Once I reached the city, I’d need something to sell to get restarted.
Day turned to night and turned back into day. I slept a couple hours with nothing to protect me but a thick fur cloak. I had grown lax concerning my fear of creatures. If something did attack me in my sleep, what was the worst that could happen, die and try again. Immortality has a strange way of changing your priorities.
It was midday and I would have seen the sun at its zenith if pale grey clouds hadn’t blanketed the skies overhead. The clouds brought with them a moderate dusting of snow, just another fraction of an inch added to the dozen yards of snow that completely buried all but the tallest trees.
‘I wonder what was so dangerous.’ Everyone had said these mountains were impassible in the winter yet here I was 90% of my way up the mountain and not a single hick up. It was cold but nothing a couple layers of fur couldn’t fix and as for predators. It was too cold for smaller beasts to survive and larger ones avoided the area due to lack of food.
Then, I started to hear something. At first, I thought it was all in my head, a manifestation of my paranoia, a soft flutter of sound blending in with the howl of the wind. But as it grew louder, I could no longer deny it. The wheezing was real, but knowing wasn’t enough to change my path, I continued onward. I didn’t see the source until it was practically on top of me.
‘Oh… shit.’ I turned tail and ran. The sound had been the heavy breathing of a large shaggy ape-man. The ape was nearly 25 feet tall. Long white hair covered its entire body, blending the ape with the snow so well that I wouldn’t have seen it at all if it wasn’t for its pitch-black face.
I darted back the way I came, losing hard-earned altitude as I tried to put as much distance as possible between me and the yeti. Now I understood why the mountains were impassible. Carnivorous snow-loving monsters came down from the highest summits during the winter, blocking the mountain pass.
The yeti had been burrowing through the snow and foraging for whatever organic matter it could find at ground level. It hadn’t expected to find a tasty meal on the surface so I had 15 precious seconds before it started after me.
I couldn’t run very fast in my snowshoes but the yeti wasn’t fast either. The creature’s bulk made it sink deep into the snow with each step and in the end; the yeti gave up trying to stay above the snow and instead pushed its way through with brute strength, shearing through the snow, tossing it to either side like a giant snowplow as it continued to advance beneath the surface.
I dodged waves of shifting snow from the mini-avalanches generated by the yeti’s movement. After ten minutes of running, I was getting nowhere. My energy wore thin and the yeti showed no signs of weakening. So, I veered off from my original path and headed down a steeper slope to a long narrow ravine placed between two tall vertical cliffs. I dove in to the gap just as the yeti caught up to me.
The yeti tried to follow, but it was too large to fit into the narrow crevice and settled for thrashing at the cliff walls, hitting me with chunks of dirt and snow. It was frustrated that after the long chase it couldn’t get its prey. It reached its arms into the gap, grasping for me, but I backed deeper into the ravine, well outside its reach.
After a few minutes, the yeti gave up on getting inside but remained nearby. It wasn’t going to let me go so easily. The yeti went back to foraging, burrowing itself in the snow down to the ground underneath, feeding off the frozen foliage while it waited for me to come out. I had plenty of food in my inventory and could wait weeks if I needed to. In the meantime, I decided to check out more of the ravine.
I walked down the length of the crevice, 50 foot high cliffs protecting me from either side. As I walked, I could hear the yeti moving above, walking along the cliffs, intent that I not get away. At various places, the ravine narrowed and widened but never to the point where I couldn’t get through or the yeti could get in. Sometimes piles of boulders, eroded from the cliff, blocked my path and I had to struggle over them to continue forward.
After an hour, I reach
ed the ravine’s end. The deep crack in the earth came to a sudden and unnatural stop at a slab of metal jutting out from the rock. I ran my hand along the metal. It was perfectly flat and smooth.
‘It’s some sort of man-made structure. Well, maybe not man-made per se,’ I corrected, thinking of the various sentient species inhabiting this world.
I looked up the cliffs to the top of the ravine. I could still hear the yeti shuffling about in the snow. I still couldn’t leave so I tried to see if I could make out more of the structure by digging out the earth a couple yards around, but the flat metal surface extended in all directions. The weirdest thing was that there were no seams or welding marks along the entire surface. It was just a plain plane. I marveled at the scale of this metallurgy. It was far beyond anything I’d seen in this medieval magical world.
With a spark of curiosity and nothing else to do, I tried to get through the metal. I banged at it with a hammer and chisel but the metal surface was unyielding. After several minutes of pounding, I’d hardly left a scratch. In a stroke of inspiration, I pulled out one of the fluoroantimonic lemons I’d picked earlier. ‘The system description had said the lemon’s juices were extremely acidic.’
I took a knife and carefully peeled half of the lemon’s skin off, one layer at a time. Eventually the knife got to the final layer and when I tried to peel it off, the blade sizzled and melted away.
‘I think that’s far enough,’ I thought, making the easiest decision ever. ‘Stop cutting through the vessel full of super acid when it starts melting your knife.’
I grasped the half of the lemon with its skin intact and set the naked half against the metal wall. The acidic juices hissed against the metal, producing noxious fumes that burned my eyes and made me gag as it ate away the strange metal surface. Once I squeezed out all the juice, I cast off the pulpy remnants and looked at the result. The acid had worked far better than a hammer and chisel ever could, melting a small depression a few inches deep into the previously unmarred surface.
Arrival Page 13