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Eric hurtled through lightless space. Icy wind tore across his naked body. With a wet crunch, he impaled a fluffy snow drift headfirst. He curled up in the soft powder, snow clinging to him, screaming in terror.
This was no dream, nor glitch. Seconds seemed to flow glacially, then a notification suddenly appeared in his vision. A blinking snowman icon expanded into a text window.
You are in a freezing environment, the cold will damage you until you reach a warmer area or shelter. 20 health loss per minute while exposed past the first 3 minutes.
“Need-d-d to move!” He urged himself through chattering teeth. Eric had gone snow camping as a teen with his scout troop. Memories of shelter building and survival techniques flashed in his mind.
The snowdrift piled up higher than his head, threatening to bury him in a cold grave. That would be a problem if he was planning on getting out. He wasn't.
Ice particles stung his face as he came to his knees and frantically scooped snow. His arms became sluggish, slowing as the chill took hold.
Don’t stop. Just a bit more.
A distracting red strobe appeared in his periphery. Crawling into the hollow he managed to carve out of the snow drift, Eric collapsed.
Then, he died.
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Once again freezing air greeted Eric as he fell uncontrollably. His stomach struck snow, hard. Breath escaped him in a gasp. He was dazed, an icon with two small yellow birds flying in a circle confirmed it.
Gasping, Eric felt around and discovered that the snow cave he had dug out remained, he dove into the meager alcove. Piling snow against the entrance, he left a small hole so he wouldn't suffocate. Once the blockade had been constructed, he plunged into fitful sleep.
Searing pain in his toes roused him to waking. Time had become abstract. The suffocating darkness of his tomb obscured its passage. All he could tell was that it had been a while.
Eric heard a slow dripping of water splashing into a shallow puddle near the entrance. Cold droplets fell onto his scalp and trickled through his hair, sending goosebumps rippling down his neck.
Like a good scout would know to do, he’d deliberately tunneled upward into the snowdrift. Warm air was trapped at the top and the difference was enough to melt the snow on the ceiling, and keep him alive through the night.
Drawing in his legs, Eric sat up and rubbed some warmth back into his feet. After a few minutes of rubbing, the pain subsided to a dull ache. Breathing regularly and repeating this simple action gave him his first free moment to think.
He tried to remember how he had gotten here, but it was all blurry. Was he playing a VR game? This almost felt like a game, with the icons and notifications, but this was far more visceral. What is going on?
Alone, in the black of his icy redoubt, Eric realized an important fact. Above all else, he had no desire to fall through the air again. He could discover how this all happened at a different time and in a much different place, if there was even an answer to discover.
Opaque information overlaid his at the sides of his vision. Perhaps there is a solution to my conundrum hiding there? Eric focused on the little picture of himself. Abruptly, a translucent rectangle jumped in front of him. Eric's head slammed back into the packed snow and a deluge of cold droplets drenched him.
Biographical Information:
Name: ????
Level: 0
Experience: 0
Race: Vampire – Sun Elf
Class: Unavailable – Requirements not met
Alignment: Neutral
Languages: Divine Elvish, Common
Stats:
Health: 10/13
Mana: 11/11
Strength: 14
Dexterity: 19 (-3)
Constitution: 14
Intelligence: 13
Spirit: 9
Charisma: 19
Luck: 7
Resistances:
25% Enchantment
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
-50% Holy Magic
Skills:
None
Abilities:
Shapechanger, Bite, Regeneration
Traits:
Child of Night: Vampiric abilities, Darkvision. If noticed by others, your true nature may have drastic consequences. Other elements of this trait may reveal themselves over time.
Child of Heaven: You have retained a divine soul. Reduced susceptibility to Holy Magic, vampiric light vulnerability negated, vampiric hunger reduced. Other elements of this trait may reveal themselves over time.
Elven Heritage: 25% Enchantment Resistance.
Inventory:
None
He was a heavenly vampire, holy blood sucker? That made even less sense than falling out of the sky. Not much less... but less. He shivered and hunched over to try and stay warm.
He attempted to focus in on the panel again. Eric thought he had seen an option or two to get out of this mess. However, one of the queued notifications darted to the center of his view, flashing with urgency.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _?
It didn't take a genius to figure out what the world required him to do before taking any further actions. It was ridiculous that coming up with a name took precedence over survival, but it would be hard to function with a flashing notification in the center of his vision.
Okay Eric, put at least a little thought into this. He was a light vampire, in every RPG game he had played monsters weren’t exactly given warm welcomes. He couldn't let anyone find out what he was.
Unless he wanted to go the evil route. If his goal was to survive at all costs, then this was a no-brainer. Pick something terrifying and powerful sounding. However, an Eagle Scout generally didn’t chose the easy or the self-serving path. That wouldn't cut it now either, obviously.
Another shiver ran down his spine. He leaned back and rubbed all over, trying to create heat. What the heck does a heavenly elf's name sound like? He imagined it needed to have a lot of 'S', 'L’, and 'I's' in it. It was cold and he was in a rush, time to go with something easy, but innocuous. Ciresil, he thought at the interface, and sure enough, the name section filled in.
Then another notification annoyingly forced itself into his view. He rubbed at his feet again and rocked himself a bit. Gah! This is too much!
You have survived a night in the wilderness at freezing temperatures.
You suffer from the frostbite effect on your extremities.
Debuff: -3 to Dexterity until frostbite is removed or healed.
Enduring the pain and stress has increased your Constitution +1.
With a grumble, he moved on to the next notification, eager to look at his status page again.
You have gained a new skill: Wilderness Survival (Uncommon)
“Necessity is the mother of invention.” - Plato
At initiate rank, you inflict +1 damage to wild animals. +20% resistance to weather related damage.
This was actually welcome information. This skill was useful, particularly considering his current circumstances. This is probably why I was able to survive the night in the buff. Now I just need to improve my situation, given that I do not have an imminent fear of death any longer.
Eric pulled up his status page and gave it a quick scan. The only thing that looked like an answer was the Shapechange ability. Maybe he would transform into a fearsome wolf and he could get some ready made fur clothes. He focused on the ability.
Shapechange: Change into a bat for a duration of 2 hours.
No wolf form and no user's manual, crap. He would have to figure it out as he went. If the wind wasn’t bad, he should be able to fly off to lower elevations or at least better cover. Changing from an elf into a small bat felt like a migraine combined with the worst head cold he had ever experienced.
Warning! At your current level you can only maintain this form for two hours and can only use this ability once per rest (4 hours of relaxation)!
You are a Tiny Creature: -50% Strength, -50% Hit Points, -25% Constitution, +75% Dexterity, and +25% Spirit. Strength score limited to 5.
Most of the changes didn't seem like such a big deal. He was small and squishy, but fast. He was pondering this information, now much warmer in his bristled coat, when it finally occurred to him that he had blockaded the entrance and now had no exit.
When a bat is cursing, but unable to really speak, it sounds adorable. Letting out the loudest cutest roars a little flying mouse could, Ciresil vented his frustration.
Then echolocation clicked in for the first time, and he could see! He had gotten so used to the darkness that this rekindled his motivation. I can do this.
With more determination than before, he crawled up to the air hole. Then he tried to squeeze himself through, to no avail. He would have to dig himself out. Using his wings to try and scoop out the snow was awkward and didn’t really work. Being unnaturally strong for a bat with a maxed ‘tiny creature’ strength score didn’t help much either. He could only do so much with his claws.
So in a bizarre reverse from the night before, he threw himself at the small opening he had left for breathable air to enter. Repeating the process several times started to make progress and the escape route widened.
Once he had enough room to shove himself into the hole, he dove in and wiggled around. Oscillating himself so that he could increase its size more, he then inched himself back out and did that several more times. It wasn't glamorous and it sure as shoot wasn't fun, but he got through the hole and squeezed out...
...right into a puddle! He to pulled himself out of the water, a sodden sputtering mess. He was shivering, but he could tell that there was a marked difference in having fur versus not. This is fricking ridiculous! How in the hell did I get here?
A cold breeze bit into his wings as he spread them out under the sun for the first time, but it was worth the price. The light gently kissed his wings, rescinding some of the chill which had nestled there as he dried. Something about all of this feels nostalgic. However, when I try to think about it too hard everything gets fuzzy, like I am concussed. I can think about all of this after I get out of here.
Once he was finally dry, Ciresil squeaked a 'roar' to the world as he beat his wings to soar into the heavens! Well, that is what he imagined was going to happen. His first try, and several after that, ended in him tumbling end over end in an embarrassing display. Many attempts at liftoff later and he was actually airborne. This is amazing!
He started flapping towards lower elevations and gazed around, taking in the lay of the land. Ciresil did not have the best judgment of distance yet, but as far as he could tell he was on the side of a very tall peak, in some sort of mountain chain. Ciresil was just above the timberline, blazing white glistened behind him all the way to the summit. Beyond the swell of tall evergreens before him, he could see other peaks stretching out along the horizon. The general spacing of these mountains let him know that he was at the crest of a bowled valley.
Ciresil did not know what sort of distance he could make or how much longer he could stay in this form. With some urgency, he flapped towards the trees, pitching awkwardly as gusts hit him. Hurriedly, he selected a large pine and swooped up onto a low branch.
Time to be a bat I guess. Crouching, he tipped himself over and clung to the bottom of the branch. Wrapping himself snugly in his wings gave him his first true moment of respite since this whole circus began.