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Arrival: Legends of Arenia Book 1 (A LitRPG Story)

Page 7

by P. A. Parsons


  “My Luck is an eight. Eight. Eiiiggghhht. That explains so, so much.”

  Mark looked at his statistics again. Without a frame of reference, it was tough to tell what the numbers meant, but on a relative basis, he wasn’t surprised by anything. He had some of his father’s natural strength, albeit with a lanky frame that he inherited from his great-grandfather, and was reasonably coordinated. The lower Constitution made sense given how much his farm chores had been curtailed right when he got into his teen years. You hardly wanted a guy who could keel over at any moment running the thresher.

  As for Willpower and Intelligence…

  Screw it. They’re just numbers.

  Mark looked around his surroundings, unsure of where he should be heading. Palmyre was somewhere to the northwest, but that was a pretty broad scope of direction. His best bet was probably to head in that general direction and hope he found a road to follow the rest of the way.

  As for the terrain, it was comprised of some sort of thick Evergreen with a ground cover of fallen logs and ferns—not something that would be easy to move through. Much of the light was also blocked out by the high trees, leaving little hope of navigating by the stars. Which sucked because celestial navigation was something Mark could actually do. Assuming Arenia had the same stars as Earth, which almost certainly wasn’t the case. So maybe that didn’t matter after all. Come to think of it, he couldn’t even trust that the sun rose in the east and set in the west, but at least using that as a compass point would allow him to stay in the same direction and not walk in circles. And hey, there was a 50-50 chance it was correct, right? Besides, even heading in the wrong direction was better than sitting in the forest doing nothing.

  As Mark did a quick once-over, he noted that his clothing had been replaced with something more Arenia appropriate, presumably, and he’d also been given a backpack. It was weighed down with supplies, but he couldn’t resist seeing just how gamey this world was.

  “Inventory?” Mark said, hoping to see a screen pop up for him to access.

  Nothing happened.

  With a sigh, Mark took off the pack and poured the contents onto the ground.

  There wasn’t much. It was something, though, and he would have to find ways to stretch it out. Plan for the long-term. But how was he going to do that?

  A thought occurred to him.

  “Tome,” Mark said, using the word that lizard asshole had used. In an instant, the book was in his hand.

  “Pen?” he said hesitantly… and one appeared! A simple, skinny ballpoint pen, like the kind you’d find in a hotel room. Yeah, it was a crappy pen, but a hell of a lot better than what he’d expected. He’d been 90% sure he was going to have to use a quill and ink.

  Immediately, he jotted down a list of supplies:

  Mark’s Stuff

  Bedroll x1

  Waterproof Cloak x1

  Change of Clothes x1

  Rations x9

  Camp Knife with sheath x1

  Fish hook x2

  Fishing line (~50 m) x1

  Waterskin (full) x1

  Flint and Steel x1

  Torch x2

  Silk Rope (~20 m) x1

  All in all, it was kind of—

  NEW GENERAL SKILL LEARNED!

  Writing – Skill Level 22 (Tier-II)

  You’re not as dumb as you look! And with 14 Charisma, you look pretty dumb.

  Tier-I Bonus: Decreased chance of writing being misunderstood.

  Tier-II Bonus: Unlocks writing prerequisite for occupations that aren’t writing-primary (e.g. Guard Captain, Shift Boss, etc.). Required Skill Level varies by occupation.

  *Since this Skill predates your arrival in Arenia, it has been set at a level commensurate with the practical ability you already possess.

  2,950 XP Earned (cumulative)

  The words caught Mark by surprise, coming as they had on a sheet of paper that appeared out of nowhere directly in front of his face. He watched in awe as the piece of paper shrunk in size and zoomed towards his journal. The journal flipped to the back of the book of its own accord, and the page slipped inside, just in front of his character sheet. It even formed a tab labelled “SKILLS” that poked out for convenience. Then the journal magically flipped back to where he’d been writing his inventory.

  Once that bit of oddness was over, Mark was again surprised when the pen in his hand changed from the crappiest of all pens into a thicker plastic kind. Like the ones that sit in your junk drawer for 7 years and inexplicably still work. Did the quality of his pen just improve with his Writing Skill?

  “Uhh…” Mark said eloquently. He flipped back to the SKILLS tab to review what he’d just seen, then back to his inventory list. Just then, another paper appeared.

  RENOWN LEVEL UP!

  Level 4 Achieved

  XP: 2,950

  XP to next Renown: 350

  “Whoa, hey now?” Mark said. There was something of note. Looking back at his character sheet, he noted that while he had levelled up, there wasn’t any change to his base Attributes, nor did he have any characteristic points to apply.

  “Boo…” Mark muttered under his breath. It was hard to stifle his disappointment—it would have been nice to get that Luck stat up.

  With no time needing to be spent on his character build, Mark revisited his inventory list.

  There wasn’t a lot. The camp knife was pretty small—it would never be passable as a weapon against anything tougher than a drugged-up squirrel—but it would be serviceable for making kindling, cutting rope, etc. The flint and steel were good too, but the usefulness was questionable. He didn’t want to draw in any creatures with a campfire if he could avoid it, especially since he was alone. So long as it didn’t get too cold at night, no fire was probably the best course of action. It helped that there were some rations in there that wouldn’t need cooking. Maybe five days’ worth if he stretched them out? Hopefully, that would get him to civilization, but the presence of a fishing line suggested he may need to do some foraging along the way. On the bright side… silk rope! Adventurers always found a good use for rope, and this was the good stuff. Score!

  Some deeply hidden part of Mark’s lizard brain caused him to stop his analysis and look up.

  Something was wrong. The forest had gone quiet.

  A piece of paper appeared, and Mark snatched it out of the air.

  NEW SURVIVAL SKILL LEARNED!

  Sense Danger – Skill Level 1 (Tier-0)

  You can tell when there’s a threat nearby, giving you time to react before it’s too late. At higher Skill levels, anyway. Right now, you’ll be lucky if you make it to the end of this sentence.

  50 XP Earned

  Mark tossed the paper aside and frantically jammed everything back into his backpack. He was still trying to make space for the rope when a growling creature emerged from the trees to his right, stealing Mark’s attention.

  His jaw dropped. Mark was used to fantasy games starting with the adventurers fighting rats in a sewer to gain early levels, but this wasn’t a sewer, and the rat staring at him was a metre tall at the shoulder, with a build more reminiscent of a wild boar than a rodent. It immediately brought back memories of childhood nightmares he’d endured after watching a movie his parents had assured him was utterly benign. They were wrong.

  “Fucking R.O.U.S.’s, are you serious?” Mark said. The sound of his voice triggered the animal to move, and Mark responded like a jackrabbit. Grabbing his backpack in one hand and the rope in the other, Mark leapt to his feet and sprinted as fast as he could, practically leaving a dust cloud in his wake. As his feet pounded into the forest earth, he wasted no time throwing the spool of rope over his head and under his right arm while simultaneously slinging the backpack over his left shoulder. It wasn’t easy to run with the two items held the way they were, but the bulk of the rope prevented him from getting his other backpack strap on, and he wasn’t willing to part with his supplies. What was the point of getting away from the huge rat if th
e price was dying later of slow starvation?

  “Shit shit shit shit,” he swore as he jumped and swerved over the fallen logs and underbrush.

  NEW GENERAL SKILL LEARNED!

  Jumping – Skill Level 11 (Tier-I)

  Hey, we’re not bothering you with these, are we?

  Tier-I Bonus: Increased power when jumping while running.

  *Since this Skill predates your arrival in Arenia, it has been set at a level commensurate with the practical ability you already possess.

  650 XP Earned (cumulative)

  RENOWN LEVEL UP!

  Level 5 Achieved

  XP: 3,650

  XP to next Renown: 1,450

  Mark batted the paper away and risked a glance over his shoulder. The giant rodent leaping and bounding behind him, perfectly comfortable in the environment. All Mark could think of was his base Attributes: Decent Strength and Dexterity, crappy Constitution. Translation: “Get away fast because there is no way you are surviving a protracted chase.”

  NEW SURVIVAL SKILL LEARNED!

  Running For Your Life – Skill Level 1 (Tier-0)

  Good news! By the time you hit Skill Level 30 and break into the Journeyman Tier, this Skill unlocks some amazing bonuses. The bad news is, nobody has reached Level 10 without dying shortly thereafter.

  Tier-0 Bonus: Tier-0 bonuses aren’t really a thing, but if you get out of this alive that’s bonus enough.

  50 XP Earned

  A series of logs appeared in Mark’s path. They had fallen into a rough pile within a ravine, forming a bottleneck in the process. Normally he would be careful as he worked his way over a jumbled pile like that, but he didn’t have time to be careful. Instead, he leapt across a series of tree stumps and then hurled himself to the top of the pile before scrambling over the other side.

  For a moment, Mark congratulated himself on a manoeuvre that he’d been sure would slow his opponent down. After all, rats weren’t overly known for their jumping prowess. Unfortunately, a quick look back showed that the giant rat was just as proficient as its smaller cousin at squeezing through tight gaps, as evidenced by the fact that it was now crawling out of a hole in the pile barely a quarter of its normal body width.

  It was hardly an ideal outcome, but it at least gave Mark an idea. An insane, stupid, desperate idea, but the best idea he could come up with.

  Doubling down on his own stupidity, Mark continued down the steadily narrowing ravine, ignoring any exits in favour of finding a spot to execute his utterly moronic plan. Sure, if the ravine ended abruptly, he would die messily and painfully, but as the walls of the ravine grew taller, he knew he was committed to his chosen course of action. All that was left was to hope he could beat the odds.

  Speaking of odds, Mark spotted another jumble of logs that had fallen from higher up the ravine. It wasn’t as tall as at the last location, so there was no guarantee the rat wouldn’t simply run over this barrier. However, there was a large tree hanging just past the log pile that would be perfect for what Mark had planned.

  One way or another, this was going to be the place where Mark had his showdown.

  As Mark scrambled up the log pile, he took the loop of rope off his shoulder and picked out a clear limb on the overhanging tree; one that wasn’t too obstructed by foliage. Once he reached the log summit, he forced himself to focus and take aim with the rope. Putting all his faith into that 18 Dexterity, Mark muttered an aimless prayer and tossed the rope as high and hard as he could, keeping a firm grasp on the other end of the rope with his off-hand.

  To Mark’s great shock, the spool of rope sailed true, easily clearing the branch and unrolling on the other side as gravity pulled it to earth. He was left with one end in his hand and the other end dangling on the other side of the log pile, just as he had planned. It caught him so off guard that he almost forgot about the giant rat bearing down on him from behind. The crashing of the rat through the brush pulled Mark out of his awe, and as soon as he realized how close the creature was, he frantically tried to tie the end of the rope in his hands, but the panic and exhaustion was causing him to repeatedly mess up the pattern.

  “C’mon, rat. Go under the pile,” Mark panted, his eyes glancing up as his hands fumbling through their motions.

  The rat seemed to sense that something had changed. Now that Mark had stopped running, it chose to proceed more cautiously, much to Mark’s annoyance. The two opponents stared at each other, considering, until the rat finally broke the stalemate by climbing its way up the pile towards him.

  “Damn it!” Mark swore. Now he had to force the rat into a course of action it didn’t want to take.

  Biding his time, Mark waited for the rat to finish the steep climb up the log pile. Then, when the rat’s head got level with the uppermost log, he took two steps forward, and absolutely field goal kicked the rodent in the face.

  NEW FIGHTING STYLE LEARNED!

  Brawling – Skill Level 1 (Tier-0)

  Kick kick, punch punch. Good, you learned how to hit things. How is this not a Skill you’re bringing over from Earth?

  50 XP Earned

  The paper was a mild distraction for Mark, but the kick in the face was a major distraction for the rat. Not only was it stunned by the blow, but it also went flying backwards off the log pile and tumbled to the ground. It hit with a thud at roughly the same time the paper disappeared, something Mark knew he would have to look into. He couldn’t have paper waving in front of his face in the middle of a fight. Whatever that would require, he could look into it later if he survived. For now, he had the rat to worry about.

  In an ideal world, the fall to the ground would have broken the creature’s neck, but Arenia was anything but an ideal world. Instead, the rat scrambled back to its feet, now enraged over the situation. Abandoning its earlier attempt at subtlety, the gigantic rat threw aside any idea of going under the pile and instead scrambled upwards toward Mark, this time bracing itself and attempting to dodge when Mark lashed out. Mark was able to kick it off again, but this second go-around was nowhere near as convincing as the first. Mark knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep going forever, and he was pretty sure the rat knew it as well.

  “Just go under the pile, you dumb bastard!” Mark shouted as the rat got to its feet and once again defied Mark’s hopes by heading up the pile.

  No! He needed it to go under the pile! How could he possibly make the thing—

  Realization struck.

  “I am such an idiot,” Mark said. Of course the rat was climbing the pile. That’s where Mark was! The only way the rat would switch tactics was if it thought Mark had resumed running again. Sure, that would require Mark to jump off the pile and simply wait at the bottom, hoping that the rat went under the pile, all while knowing that if it went over the top, he was going to end up wearing a 90-pound rat as a toque; but staying on top of the pile was a surefire path to dead-dead land. So not much of a choice, really.

  Now set in his decision, Mark prepared himself to knock the rat off the pile one last time. Unfortunately, this time when Mark kicked the creature, it was able to hang on by digging its claws deep into the rotting wood.

  It glared at him with feral hunger.

  “Are you kidding me?” Mark shouted. He started kicking the creature again, but this time the rat’s hold was too good. Instead of sliding backwards, it began pulling itself onto the top of the pile.

  Now frantic that he wouldn’t be able to dislodge the beast, Mark tossed the end of the rope he was still holding off the far side of the pile, kicking at the rat like a 6-year-old at a soccer game. For all Mark’s efforts, the rat refused to budge, even managing to get one of its hind legs onto the top of the logs. In a burst of panic, Mark changed tactics and charged the rat, ramming into it with his shoulder as he attempted to shove it off the pile. The manoeuvre caught the rat by surprise and flipped it onto its back, but it was still able to reflexively bite Mark on the shoulder, even though it couldn’t properly clamp down and had to settle for merel
y inflicting a raking gash that tore Mark’s shirt and flesh.

  With the rat now in a vulnerable position, Mark immediately regretted his lack of a weapon. Heck, if he’d had a short sword, he probably could have killed the creature then and there. Since that wasn’t the case, he instead thrust his hands under the creature’s body and heaved for all he was worth, surging forward as he rolled the rat off the pile. He heaved so hard in fact that it was only by grabbing a nearby branch at the last minute that Mark was able to prevent himself from tumbling to the ground after it.

  As soon as the immediate intensity of the battle disappeared, Mark became aware of the raking scratches the rat had been able to carve across his chest with its claws, shredding his shirt and leaving him bloody. He didn’t have time to think about it, though. Soon the rat would reorient itself, and Mark needed to make a big show out of scrambling down the other side and disappearing from the rat’s view.

  Mark watched as the rat twisted itself back onto its feet and turned back towards the log pile. It raised its head towards Mark, and the instant the creature’s eyes were upon him, Mark bolted in the opposite direction, making as much noise as he could during his scramble down the far side of the pile.

  Now Mark was committed. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he looked for the tree branch with his rope slung over it, spotting it only a couple of metres away. The ends of the rope lay still in the dirt, and Mark ran over, grabbing one of those ends in bloodied hands and forcing them through the motions of making a noose as he ran back to the logs, knowing full well that if the rat came over the pile, he was a dead man.

 

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