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It took a bit longer to get going that morning than either of them had planned. After about an hour of conversation, Cire had learned that people who were adept at any given skill could test others for their aptitude. The higher the aptitude, the easier it was for one to advance in a given skill and attain a higher level of mastery.

Essentially, Cire had been attempting to level a skill that he had no natural talent in, like painting back on Earth. While he had brute forced himself into gaining the skill through considerable effort, it was something he wouldn't ever go far in.He had only been able to learn it because all common skills, regardless of aptitude, could be acquired given enough persistence.

When he asked Eugene if the man would test him for a few aptitudes, he had readily agreed. Cire was a little surprised by the variety of talents Eugene possessed. Eugene dryly explained. “In the mountains you develop a variety of skills or you die.” The tone of Eugene’s words made him take this warning to heart.

Eugene tested him for Farming, Tanning, Skinning, Carpentry, Musical Instruments,Light Armor, Medium Armor, Shields, Archery, Blades, Pole-arms, and Axemanship. Outside of the opportunity that Eugene had given him, it appeared that his run of bad luck was continuing. His aptitude for everything but Blades and Light Armor was all limited or non-existent. His ranking for Armor, and therefore Light Armor was only average, which, while not horrible, didn't have him as excited as he had been to go out hunting the swine. He had just seen a dire boar go toe to toe – hoof to paw? – with a mountain lion earlier that morning.

Eugene, realizing Cire’s blatant ignorance of Elysium gave him a series of scrolls. Traditionally these were given to each youth when they came of age. They covered the basic information you would need to venture into the world. Mage schools used them as practice tools for leveling up skills in classes, so they were readily available. The farmer always had a few around ‘just in case’. This was one of those cases.

Cire activated the first scroll and a burst of magical essence swirled from the parchment. It surged into him, vibrating his body in the chair until dissipating. Crumbling to dust, the remains of the paper fell from his hands. He had received much welcomed information, but it was like trying to drink from a fire hose.

Leveling and Skill Point Experience Scale:

1 – 1000 exp

2 – 3000 exp

3 – 6000 exp

4 – 10,000 exp

5 – 15,000 exp

6 – 21,000 exp

7 – 28,000 exp

8 – 36,000 exp

9 – 45,000 exp

10 – 55,000 exp

…

*Class Upgrade available once an individual reaches level 10 depending on race, stats, skills, abilities, and traits.

HP per level: 5-10 + constitution and other modifiers

Mana per level: 5-10 + intelligence and other modifiers

Skill Points: 1 SP per level + racial modifiers, each SP is equal to a skill level.

Experience Gain Rate:

Base

Modifier

Creatures

5% of creatures total experience when slain.

+/- 1% for each level above or below 3 of the slayer. Max experience gain of 10%.

Activity

100 Skill Experience per hour for the first 8 hours. Sub-skills or related skills gain experience at 50% the rate of the main skill being used.

-10% (cumulative) Skill Experience penalty each hour after 8 hour threshold.

Combat Skill Experience gain +100%.

Questing

Variable

Variable

Skill Advancement

Each skill tier advancement grants 1,000 experience points. I.E. - Initiate to Adept.

Increases by 1,000 experience points per tier.

Ouch, my brain hurts. Cire’s head spun as he processed the data. He scanned the additional titles that Eugene had given him. They consisted of: “Item Rarity Scale,” “Item Quality Scale,” “Aptitude Scale,” “Skill Progression Scale,” “Relationship Scale,” “Understanding Alignment,” “Schools of Magic,” and “The Basics of Stats, Skills, Abilities, Traits and Aspects.”1

He would consume these additional scrolls at a later date. They had uninteresting titles and most of it appeared to be rather intuitive. His head was throbbing.

Cire felt woefully under prepared, which was antithetical to his nature as a scout. He needed to track down more information than the basics, preferably in non-scroll form. Gurgling stomach sounds from his full belly belied his unease.

Resolve hardened his wavering will. He had a new beginning and a far better chance to survive now than before. Cire would not let this opportunity slip from his grasp. I will survive.

Cire accepted the gear that the old farmer gave him with a smile and strapped it on. They were the only items Eugene had he could use, but he was grateful.

Steel Longsword

Damage: 1d10 (Slicing or Piercing)

Rarity: Common

Quality: Average

Light Linen Armored Cuirass

Armor: +3

Rarity: Common

Quality: Average

Light Linen Armored Pants

Armor: +1

Rarity: Common

Quality: Average

“You seem… pretty ignorant of how things work around here, so I will give you a few pieces of advice to help you out. The boars are all under level five, but that doesn’t mean the same as if they were people. Most boars have a decent enough Strength and Constitution scores, but their Dexterity and Intelligence tends to be awful.

“They won’t have skills for fighting, except the dire boars, they can be nasty. Animals use their skills points by instinct and the boars around here generally spend the majority of their time looking for food. They have really high level Foraging skills for the most part, but not much else. Isolate them and you should be fine.” Eugene tugged on a few of the armor straps adjusting how the chest piece hung on Cire’s body.

Cire took one last opportunity to pick Eugene’s brain before they parted ways for the day. “So, skills and leveling… any suggestions on what to focus on?”

Eugene clucked his tongue, more or less accustomed to Cire’s growing ignorance. “Well, depends on your goals really. Most folks save the skill points they get from leveling for ranking up the more expensive tiers after they have progressed. Others, like me, had to spend their points as soon as they got them to get by. The size of a single harvest can decide a lot for a farming family.” A wistful look passed through Eugene’s eyes, then he shook his head.

“Stacy fared better than me in that regard. I’d hold off on spending points if you can. Focus on leveling up a skill or two that you have high levels of aptitude in through practice and then branch out as you get more options. That’s the path that will provide the most opportunity, and in case of an emergency you will have options.”

Cire listened intently to Eugene’s suggestions and nodded agreeably. “Thank you for the advice Eugene, sorry to keep you from your fields.”

The affable farmer just smiled warmly and headed out to tend his fields. Cire struck out to get some work done. He walked comfortably in his new shoes to the small woods that abutted the fenced in area of Eugene’s farm. In the distance he could see the small collection of wooden buildings that comprised the rest of the hamlet. It was early enough, and he was far enough away, that he couldn't see or hear anyone else moving about. Should be a good time to get started and have some privacy.

Cire’s leisurely pace brought him up to the first set of trees, and he transitioned from the rough grooved dirt path to soft giving underbrush. With a deep, slow, breath he took in the dawn's crisp air. It felt far more refreshing now that he had a pit of warmth in his stomach and clothing over his skin.

Ever since he had been small, he had loved waking up with the world, hearing the birds rouse themselves to life with song for their paramours. Closing his eyes he took a moment to center himself, the exhilaration of being alive coursed through him.

When his eyes opened, there was a calm smile on his lips and determination in his eyes. To survive in Elysium meant he needed to gain levels, gaining levels led to power, and power meant stronger enemies. It would be a constant battle to be sure, but if he stayed still he had no chance. He would end up beholden always to others for protection. He would not, could not, let that happen.

Running through the trees was surprisingly easy to Cire's delight. In the valley the ground was flat and the soil was hard packed, nothing like the slopes. As a result, there were few closely grouped trees and less underbrush. It didn’t take long to find his prey, he had barely gone a mile from the farm, before he could hear squealing and grunting from in front of him.

Cire slowed his run to a jog and then ducked behind the largest pine tree that he could find. He had not taken the time to formulate a real plan. He had hoped to come across the beasts one at a time wandering through the forest. Seems like that was not how things worked here. While the world he was in now had elements that felt like a game, the consequences for his choices had been more than real, so far. This appeared to be no different.

Drawing his sword and balancing himself with his other on the trunk of the tree, he eased himself around the it to get his first look at his opponents in open daylight. Based on the grunts that were coming from the glade he had expected the boars to be fighting, but he couldn't have been further from the truth.

Right there in the middle of the grove, a mammoth-looking swine was busily making baby boars. He had a stricken female pinned underneath his bulk. Pulling himself back behind the tree, he just breathed for a moment. It is spring after all.

Cire had seen animals mating before, but they had always been smaller than him. This was a bit graphic and made him uncomfortable. With a shake of his head he focused on what he had to do. Eugene said these things had been tearing up his crops and rooting them out of the ground. He needed to put them down or there might not be food for the small band of pioneers that called this place home, let alone anything to spare for him, a stranger.

Cire sensed he would only get one chance to take both animals by surprise, so he had to make it count. He circled around the outside of the glade as quietly as possible in the faint light of dawn. It was only a moment before he was in position behind the large beast, using a low scrub bush for cover. The boar's enthusiastic grunting, coupled with his recipient's not-as-willing squeals, covered his footfalls while getting into position. When he broke from cover that would not be the case.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Cire steadied his breathing and waited for the grunting to get louder, less time started to come between each sound. Right at the crescendo of what had to be one of the world's most unappealing operas, he started to move. A few steps took him within reach of the mammoth pig.

He jumped forward, slashing down at the exposed nape of the creature's neck. The strike was true and bit down deep into flesh, it was a critical strike. Death took the boar before it even had a chance to pull away from the female.

A torrent of blood gushed over Cire's sword and splattered across him. Heated blood against his skin was intoxicating, and the smell of it drew rage up from his soul. However, a roiling queasiness bubbled up from his full stomach battling his desires.

Cire had not expected the same out-of-control reaction from the splash of blood onto his face as when he had been drinking it, nor the conflicting sensation of revulsion. Caught flat footed, bloodlust snatched all control. A growl emanated from deep within Cire’s throat, teeth gnashed and spit flew.

When his blade took the dire boar's head clean off after the third downward stroke, a loud pop and a limp dangling of his arm followed. There was no pain. The limb obviously did not function properly anymore. There was a horrible grating sound and vibration as he managed to flop it about.

In a blur of motion, his sword shifted to his free hand. The tip of the blade found the female boar's ribs. It slid easily between them up to the creatures heart, she had not been able to struggle while trapped under the remains of her previous lover.

Cire had not planned on feeding, he had, in fact, decided before leaving the cabin that today he would resist the urges of his new race and rely upon the strength of his arm. He hadn't even made it past one sword stroke before he had lost control, albeit with some struggle. He dove to the ground and wiggled under the headless remains of his slain foe to seek its still barely-breathing mate.

A small voice at the back of his head, which in this case was his conscious will, railed at not being able to stop. His fangs pierced through the animal's flesh. Thoughts of resistance silenced as blood poured down his throat filling him with vitality once again. His shoulder filled with a now familiar itching sensation as the injury repaired itself.

After the shuddering pleasure had fled his body, Cire was finally able to pull himself from an awkward sprawl to a cross-legged sit. His borrowed sword rested across his lap. He had dismissed the prompts during the action and in the direct aftermath of his loss of control, he had something far more important to address.

Closing his eyes, he focused his mind and cleared away as much distraction as possible. Listening to the birds, the irregular gusts of wind, and the creaking of the tall pines he lost himself for a moment in simple existence. While his breathing eased and became regular, a peace returned to him. Cire had to harden this calm. If I hurt someone I care about... I won’t be able to live with myself.

Opening his eyes, he took a quick look around the grove and saw that there was nothing else of immediate importance. Hence, he unfocused his eyes to address the notifications.

You have slain a Dire Boar (Level 3). You receive 432 experience points.

You have slain a Boar (Level 2). You receive 238 experience points.

You have been awarded 48 experience from Bite against Level 2 Boar.

Smacking the rump of the boar with the flat of his blade he chuckled while standing. “Thank you for your sacrifice Wilbur, Eugene and I are going to eat well tonight.”

Cire spent most of the day moving through the woods as silently as he could and ambushing each unsuspecting boar he could find. It was nostalgic. Grinding through lower level mobs was never all that fun, but it was efficient, particularly when everything else seemed to be significantly more dangerous. Cire would take fighting a boar over something with claws and fangs every day of the week.

Minimizing notifications to avoid distraction had become habit for Cire. Distraction while fighting seemed ill-advised. As the day wore on, his actions became more natural. Almost everything he was doing came with a bit more ease, his skills had gained some levels most likely.

Where the armor had felt distinctly uncomfortable at first, now he could flow to the side of a boars charge. When he had first held the sword, the grip had felt awkward and his swings were tentative, but by the end of the day there was a sureness to each stroke. The rate of growth and tangible progress was more fulfilling than he would have expected.

Once the sun reached the western edge of the valley he gave up the hunt to head back. He thought about why he felt so complete and the simple answer hit him. In Elysium, everything had results that he could sense and know. The world gave him immediate feedback. A small ache in the back of his mind eased to silence as he ruminated on his bounty. Bouncing on his belt, a pouch on his side proudly held the tails of 12 boars in all, two of which were dire boars!

Sneaking up on the second direboar had been about as easy as the first. However, a tusk had managed to skewer his inner thigh. He had won the fight and drained the beast while he was at it, thankfully repairing the damage.

This second vampiric attack had not elicited nearly the same reaction as others. Cire had been able to resist the heated rush of anger and prevent the drug-like euphoria from clouding his senses. Perhaps my reaction is proportional to how recently I have eaten? Something to puzzle out later, I have a quest to complete.

Cire was more than pleased that he had been able to isolate the majority of animals throughout the day. If he had been cornered by two angry boars it might not have gone in his favor. Walking out of the woods from a day of successful effort put a bounce in his step.

Eugene's farmhouse came into view once he broke from the tree line. He felt safe enough to look over his notifications and make some point allocations. He was aching to change his run of bad luck to at least neutral.

You have slain Dire Boar (Level 5). You receive 1,537 experience points.

You have slain Boar x 9 (Levels 0-4). You receive 2,483 experience points.

You have been awarded 193 experience from Bite against Level 6 Dire Boar.

Levels 1 & 2 Acquired!

Received per level

Points

Health & Mana Points

You receive 5 – 10 hit points per level + constitution modifier (4)

You receive 5 – 10 mana points per level + intelligence modifier (3)

23

16

Skill Points

You currently receive one skill point per level.

2

Ability Points

You currently receive one ability point per level.

2

Racial Bonus

You receive an additional skill point per level that is restricted to a martial skill of your choice.

2

You have gained a new skill: Armor (Common)

“Let me moreover wear your armour.” - Patroclus, The Illiad

At initiate rank you will be able to acquire appropriate sub-skills.

You have gained a new sub-skill: Light Armor (Common)

“When asked what he would take to let a man give him a blow on the head, he said, ‘A helmet.’” Diogenes Laertius, Diogenes

At initiate rank you will no longer suffer penalties for equipping and moving in light armor.

You have gained a new skill: Blades (Common)

“The blade itself incites to deeds of violence.” - Homer

At initiate rank you will be able to acquire appropriate sub-skills.

You have gained a new sub-skill: Large Blades (Uncommon)

“Whatever possession we gain by our sword cannot be sure or lasting, but the love gained by kindness and moderation is certain and durable.” - Alexander the Great

At initiate rank you will be able to wield large blades without penalties.

Regrettably, it appeared that he would not be increasing his luck stat through leveling. That was a rather large disappointment. He had hoped that he would gain stat points through gaining experience. It appeared that he had to overcome significant challenges to increase those without the aid of magical items. His horrific night in the snow cave being a prime example.

Upon review he also noticed that he had received the minimum amount of mana points for the levels and he grumbled a bit to himself. Is that my luck stat at work? He couldn’t be sure, but he needed to figure out a way to fix it. If he could only shift some of his ridiculous Charisma points into that category.

The skill point allocation he held off on for the moment; he would follow Eugene’s advice, it felt prudent.

Biographical Information:

Name: Ciresil

Level: 2

Experience: 5,626

Race: Vampire – Sun Elf

Class: Unavailable – Requirements not met

Alignment: Neutral

Languages: Divine Elvish, Common

Stats:

Health: 36/36

Mana: 27/27

Armor: 5

Strength: 14

Dexterity: 19

Constitution: 14

Intelligence: 13

Spirit: 9

Charisma: 19

Luck: 7

Resistances:

20% Enchantment

20% Weather

-50% Holy Magic

Aspects:

Indefatigable

Skills:

Wilderness Survival 2, Natural

Martial Combat 1, Natural

Blades 3, Natural

Sub-skill: Large Blades 3, Natural

Armor 2, Average

Sub-skill: Light Armor 2, Average

Herbalism 1, 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:

Basic Set of Clothing (Body)

Simple Shoes (Feet)

Steel Longsword (equipped)

Light Linen Armored Cuirass (Chest)

Light Linen Armored Pants (Legs)

Cire focused on his ability icon and was not surprised, for once, when a small menu popped up in his vision. I am finally getting the hang of this.

Ability

Level

Points to upgrade

Shapechanger: Can change into a small black bat once per rest for a duration of 2 hours. Bats are considered a tiny creature. You will have reduced stats in many areas, but increased stats in others.

1

1

Bite: You can savagely pierce your enemies' flesh with sharp fangs to drain their health and experience. HP drain is currently 100 per minute and experience drain is 1% if the target is killed by the action. This ability renders you helpless. This ability is synergistic with Regeneration and will boost it by 1 ability level.

1

1

Regeneration: You can heal from small wounds with ease and heal faster than most sapients. At your current level you regain 1 HP per turn.

1

1

He allocated one point to Bite. There was a moment of buyer's remorse, when he wanted to sure up his defense by investing in regeneration, but scaling experience growth was invaluable. Besides, being helpless while latched onto another being had not been the most enjoyable experience so far. If he could shorten the time it took to drain a victim, all the better.

You have chosen to increase your ability: Bite to level 2. HP & stamina drain are now increased to 150 per. minute and experience drain is 3% while drinking. This ability renders you helpless while performing its actions. This ability is synergistic with Regeneration and will boost it by one ability level.

Well, it appears that I am still going to be as helpless as a kitten when draining. However, the increase is still substantial and it will go faster at least. Holding onto the other point felt prudent at this moment, at least he had gotten to spend something. Saving up money, or points in this case, had always been a struggle for Cire. Even if it was a good idea, it wasn’t as fun as spending them when you got them. However, leveling and gaining skills had still made him rather pleased with himself.

Practically skipping as he rounded the corner of the cabin, Cire had a clear bounce in his step and a smile on his lips. Halting as soon as the hulking stranger sitting on the farmhouse steps looked over to him, there was a palpable sense of danger about the man.

The sun had dropped enough that in the purple tinge of dusk he couldn't make out the man's features. Additionally, the hood of a cloak concealed all but the stranger’s chin. Having more than learned his lesson about startling folks in the area, his hands shot up and into the air. Cire practically bleated. “Not looking for any trouble! Please don't shoot me!”

Stillness prevailed for what seemed like an interminable period of time as the man considered Cire from beneath his cowl. The elf almost itched from the inspection, but he did not dare drop his hands or move, so he did his best impression of one of Eugene’s scarecrows.

After what definitely felt like too long to Cire, the man barked out a hearty laugh and stood. Towering over him, the barrel-chested man piratically rumbled. Cire held out a hand hesitantly in greeting.

“Hello there, I am Cire. I was looking for Eugene, seen him about?”

Leaning in, the man clasped the elf on the hand and gave a study shake while his other hand clapped him on the shoulder in a firm grip.

“Well met! I am Stacy. Gene told me about earlier. Unfortunate way to greet someone. He told me that you would be coming by before he got back. He headed to the tavern to tell Stout to expect us later. Come on inside,” Stacy declared in a loquacious and bold tone.

It felt like everything the man said was a challenge to the world to disagree with him. Cire felt a bit bowled over by all of the information, so his only response was a hesitant “sure.”

1See the Tables & Charts chapter for additional information.