After several minutes of using [Water Manipulation], Alan could feel something happening, but whatever he was feeling, it wasn't very impressive. And that was with him being generous. For a small distance around his hand, perhaps three feet in any direction, he could sense the outline of moving objects in the water. When a Chub swam through his sphere of influence, the vibrations of its movement were translated into a grainy image in his mind.
It was a neat trick, but as far as he could tell, it was far more convenient, as well as time effective, to use his normal vision. Outside of extremely unlikely situations, it was a practically useless ability. “Now if I'm ever lost underwater in the dark, I'll be able to catch a glimpse of whatever shows up to eat me,” Alan complained. “If I don't drown first.“
For a little more than an hour, Alan struggled to make any improvement at all. He tried making the water move, yet at his current capabilities, he couldn't manage much more than forming a slight current around his fingers. When that line of thought failed to produce any viable results, he started trying to condense the water into an orb around his fist, and lift it up out of the lake.
Unlike the others, which had been nothing more than spur of the moment ideas, rather than anything he'd actually use on a regular basis, Alan instinctively knew that this was different. If he could figure out how to maintain complete control over of a simple ball of water, that would surely lead to a whole new realm of possibilities. He could envision countless uses.
Drowning enemies where they stood was among the first, but far from the last. Besides, at this rate, it would be a long time before he could pull off anything of that magnitude without the help of a Spell. But once he could control a small ball of water, he could work to increase the size. And then the shape. Would he be able to learn how to maintain the orb without touching it? Maybe change its shape at a glance? He wasn't sure, but planned on finding out eventually.
With enough practice, he could potentially form a platform of water, and float himself around on it like a magic carpet. Or, he could possibly take a more morbid route, and pull the moisture right out of an enemy and reduce them to jerky on the spot.
Thanks to the knowledge he gained from the [Water Jet] Spell Scroll, Alan had a lot of other ideas. Although they were admittedly a bit more obscure. He knew that water had three main states. Solid, liquid and gas. And the only real difference between them was the speed at which the water molecules were moving.
So if he were to slow the water molecules down, he would have created ice, and likewise, should he speed the molecules up, he would make water vapor. And hopefully while learning to make vapor, he could figure out how to pull the humidity out of the air itself, and have a constant source of water.
It was all nice in theory, and it gave him something to look forward to, but he would first have to master making a simple ball. Yet no matter what he tried, the water refused to bend to his will. Thus far, he hadn't even earned a single Skill Level for his efforts. As it turned out, manipulating the Elements was a lot more difficult than he'd assumed.
It didn't take long for Alan to get bored. Playing around with the water was fun for a time, yet he soon grew abnormally thirsty. Every time he would try to lift his condensed water-orb out of the lake, all he managed to accomplish was wetting his hands. He couldn't exercise enough control to hold it together for more than a second at a time. This was only made worse when each failure ended in a frustrating splash, creating enticing ripples that made his heart flutter.
Alan's throat felt as dry as the desert above the Sandstone Palace, and the rivulets of water caressing his scales became an unwanted distraction. It got to the point that all he could think about was the cool, clean water contained in his canteen.
The canteen that was currently trapped in the inaccessible Storage Ring on his finger. “This is great,” Alan stated sarcastically. Everything he needed was contained in his Storage Ring. It was all right there in the palm of his hand. Yet no matter what he tried, it seemed he had lost access to all of his possessions.
The worthless ring refused to answer to his summons.
He couldn't say for sure if it was his new Race getting in the way, or if the Storage Ring simply wasn't made to be compatible with Celestial Energy. At this point, it really didn't matter what the cause was. The end result was the same either way. “Fuck it!“ Alan yelled and stuck his head into the pond. He knew there were bound to be traces of the waste that he'd left behind still lingering in the lake.
But it didn't matter. He couldn't take the thirst anymore, and slaking his thirst far outweighed the potential aftereffects. Besides, once he really thought about it, his Beast-Folk Racial Ability was supposed to provide an immunity to most poisons. He would just have to trust in his body's natural resistances.
The water was obviously filled with minerals. The first gulp tasted a bit silty, and had a sharp acidic tang. In that moment, it was the best damned water he'd ever tasted. As Alan sucked in the unfiltered lake water, he once again hoped that that his Beast-Folk Racial Ability would protect him against any contaminants. Still, it tasted great, so he felt it was likely to be safe enough to drink his fill.
Although the water distorted his vision, Alan lowered himself up to his chest in the cool grasp of the gentle waves, and peered around at his blurry surroundings. Aside from a few spindly clumps of underwater weeds, and a school of Silver Lake Chubs, there wasn't much much to be seen.
Acting on a strong impulse, Alan activated [Water Manipulation] and focused on gathering up a ball of water between the palms of his hands. It was a pain to hold it together, and surrounded by so much water, it was difficult to tell if it was even working.
Once Alan was sure the sphere of water was stable, he needed to try and get that unruly orb out of the lake and into open air. He focused intently on the space between his hands and sat up. Right as his head broke the surface, he caught a glimpse of something small and red on the lake bed far off to his left. Without thinking, he tossed out a quick [Examine]. But by the time he was fully focused on the area he thought he'd seen it, whatever it might've been had already vanished.
Stolen story; please report.
Not only had he lost sight of his quarry. The moment [Examine] activated, it was like a switch was flipped. [Water Manipulation] immediately shut down. He lost his connection to the baseball-sized sphere he'd worked so hard to condense, and watched it collapse. Once more subjected to the laws of physics, the water, along with his efforts, slipped through his fingers and fell ineffectually back into the lake. It was a frustrating mistake, but his throat was no longer parched, and his stomach was mostly satisfied.
As long as he didn't suffer another bout of indigestion from drinking dirty water, he would still consider it a win.
“It's the Dungeon Safe Zone,” Alan muttered, rationalizing his loss of control, while wiping the water out of his eyes. Which, he discovered, was difficult to do with his clawed fingers. He gave up, and settled for using the back of his hand instead.
“I drank the from the river back home all the time, so it should be fine right?…” At least that's what he hoped. He tensed up when a tired squawk from right overhead grabbed his attention. Whatever it was, it had managed to get close without him ever noticing.
And it was already right on top of him.
Before Alan had a chance to understand what was happening, a tumbling meteor of claws, and dark feathers plummeted from the sky. He instinctively ducked down as it shot by, narrowly missing the side of his head in the rapid descent.
The feathered projectile uttered a pained honk as it crashed headfirst into the surface of the lake. Despite the rough landing, it hardly even made a splash. Though the bird opened up its wings in an attempt to remain above water, it was only prolonging the inevitable. The weight of its drenched feathers was proving too much for the confused, and most likely injured, animal to handle.
It was becoming painfully obvious to Alan that the beast lacked the ability to swim.
A quick search of the sky revealed he wasn't under attack. Which once he actually put some thought into it, wouldn't have been a possibility anyways. Unless showing aggression towards a few of the Rocs somehow immediately made them all antagonistic towards him. Without any evidence to prove that theory, he was still proceeding on the assumption that he was safe from attack within the Lakeside Safe Zone.
Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said about the Banded Roc that was now stranded in the lake. Attracted by the sound and vibrations caused by the sudden sounds of splashing, a swarm of Sliver Lake Chubs was beginning to gather up around the panicking bird. They didn't have any teeth, so Alan figured the Chubs weren't actually interested in eating the Roc. Yet as the number of Chubs only continued to increase, he began to doubt his earlier assessment.
“I might've been wrong about that…” Alan pondered as the Chubs began to nudge the intruder none too gently. For a moment, he considered leaving nature to take its course, and allowing the floundering bird to fend for itself. It was the fish themselves that made up his mind.
An over-eager Lake Chub, the largest he'd seen, shoved the Roc from the side quite a bit harder than the others were capable of. The bird was pushed further into the lake, and sent spinning like a top. The helpless creature turned around and around, slowing just enough to come to a stop while facing in Alan's direction. The Roc was obviously desperate. It was craning its neck out, searching for any possible escape route, when Alan caught sight of the familiar collar of bright yellow feathers ringing the Roc's neck. Even though the bird was mostly underwater by now, that vivid plumage was hard to mistake.
So far, Alan had only seen a single Roc with such a distinguishable trait. All of the others he had come across were solid black, with a single white band of feathers running down their spine. Regardless of their physical characteristics, he knew if he was going to save it, he would have to act soon. Though still he hesitated.
“It did go out of its way to shit on me…” Alan considered. He felt it would be perfectly within his rights to let that dick of a bird drown. Deep down, he felt petty for even considering it.
No, it would be a well-earned end, but he wasn't going to let the Roc die. Not after already going out of his way to save it from being ganged up on. Despite the fact that his mind was made up, Alan still couldn't help but wonder what that stupid bird was doing back here in the first place.
The last time he'd seen it, the collared Roc had disappeared through the barrier leading into the Plains Zone. At the time, it had been fleeing from an even bigger Roc, except as far as Alan could tell, there was no sign of any pursuit. Did the bigger bird that chased it off give up? Or had it met a swift end to that same weird Skill? The one that the crafty little Roc had used to split it's first foe in half. Without learning how to speak to birds, or stumbling upon another shredded bird corpse, there was really no way for him to know. All he had to go on were guesses, and he was out of time for further considerations.
“No way did I go to all that effort just to watch this damned bird drown,” Alan growled out and activated {Meteoric Rush}. He crouched down low, and launched himself out into the lake. Alan's arrival created a geyser of a splash, and for a moment, he lost sight of his target amongst all of the airborne fish. After sighting the flailing Roc just behind his right arm, he lifted it up out of the water, and beyond the reach of the gathered crowd of curious Chubs.
The weary beast wasted no time scrambling up his neck in a bid to get to safety.
With a shivering bird perched on the top of his head, Alan carefully swam back to the shore. A flood of lake Chubs followed in his wake, casting a silvery sheen to the water around him. Yet none seemed the slightest bit interested in him. As he pulled himself out of the water, the Roc took the opportunity to hop down into the grass. The tired beast gave a weak chirp of thanks, and collapsed right where it landed.
Alan now knew without question that he could gain Experience from killing beasts, even within the confines of the Lakeside Safe Zone. The sight of all those gathered up fish was like an all-you-can-kill Experience buffet. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up on. After ensuring the Roc wasn't planning on moving, Alan leaped back into the lake.
He landed amidst the dispersing cloud of Chubs in a frenzy of slashing claws.
Remarkable! You have defeated a Lvl 2 Silver Lake Chub! +8 Exp Gained!
Unfortunately, although he managed a quick kill, he realized two things almost immediately. The first was that he'd failed to judge just how much of an obstruction several feet of water would be to his attacks.
The speed at which the Chubs could change directions to avoid his claws was the second. Aside from a single fish that happened to swim the wrong direction while making an escape, Alan had utterly failed to gather any Experience.
“What a waste of time,” Alan complained, scowling as he trudged up the bank and out of the water. His sole kill was dangling loosely from his left hand. A glance at his PSA was all it took to see he was still four Experience short of gaining a level.
“One more fish! All I needed was one more…”