WINDSWEPT
CHAPTER: 1
AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL
I was warm, cozy, and in the perfect mood to sleep another few minutes. The rhythmic shushing of nearby ocean waves conspired with the tropical weather to lull me back towards unconsciousness. The only problem was, I don’t live near an ocean.
Keeping my eyes shut, I rolled over a shoulder and pushed myself upright, fine sand shifting and grinding under my palms. I opened my eyes and immediately squeezed them shut again, blinded by white shores and glimmering waters. Even so, I saw enough to understand I was on an empty stretch of beach. Squinting at the beach again, I forced my eyes to adjust to the light despite the headache growing in my temples.
That’s right. I was at the company retreat last night. Did I drink too much and wander off? Crowds always made me uneasy and I had a tendency to pull a ninja when I get sauced. That’s my fun little term for “slinking away like a coward and not saying goodbye to anyone”.
The only problem with that little theory was that I couldn’t make out any signs like weaving footprints in the sand to guide me back the way I came. Maybe the wind blew them away. I took a moment to reach into a pocket for my cell phone and then a few more to curse HR’s phone-free-zone rule for the party last night.
I stood up, patting my khaki shorts and obnoxiously loud Tommy Bahama collared shirt in a futile attempt to rid them of sand, noticing a few unfortunate stains as I did so. The sparkling water stretched out to the horizon. It was still painfully bright so I squinted off to the side where the beach ended abruptly in a jumble of boulders. Waves practically exploded upwards when they struck the rocks. Then, swirling eddies of water drained away in confusing maelstroms until the next wave struck.
“Probably not that way,” I muttered to myself and looked in the other direction.
White sand stretched out into the distance until it curved behind a dense inland jungle. I sighed.
This wasn’t the first time I’d blacked out only to wander halfway across town. There was no telling how far I would have to walk, and then I would have to deal with the knowing looks as I made half-assed excuses.
Hours of walking later, the soft and pleasantly warm sand had become almost unbearable. Every step took a little bit more energy than it should have and only carried me half as far as normal. The rising sun also heated it to the point that I was forced to walk down near the water.
It was actually a bit nicer. Besides the benefit of having cool water periodically wash over my ankles, the sand was harder packed and easier to walk on.
I proudly congratulated myself on my discovery and happily continued on my way, right up until a crab the size of a dustbin lid tumbled out of the ocean on one of the waves right in front of me.
“Kaka-cha!” It bubbled as its spiny legs grasped at the air.
Once it righted itself and scuttled around I was confronted with an ugly angular face which worked its horrifying, mouth-parts, in the most unsettling way. Black orbs on the ends of stalks stared back at me and two enormous scarred claws reached out, opening wide as if to say “come at me bro”.
I stepped back.
It scuttled forward.
We repeated this a couple of times before I turned and ran away. When I looked over my shoulder about ten seconds later, I slowed. The crab was stuck at the edge of the wet sand, its front legs sinking deep into the softer dry stuff. It strained forward with its claws and snapped them a few times as if still trying to reach me before it backed up, turned, and scuttled into the surf. The next few waves washed away most of the deep gouges it left in the sand and I decided it might be a good idea to keep away from the water.
A few minutes later I was practically hopping on my burning feet and had to periodically run back to wet them in the surf. Each time I did it felt like my heart had taken up kickboxing. That opaque foam could be hiding anything. I suddenly regretted dozing through all the safety briefings about sea-urchins and man-o-wars lying in wait for unwary feet. I was starting to get pissed. How freaking far did I wander? Where were my goddamn shoes? Why the hell did the company have to have a retreat where there were jumbo-sized king crabs?
It wasn’t until the sun passed its peak and started setting again that I really started to worry. Did I set out in the wrong direction at the start? Was I just walking further away from the resort? I hadn’t eaten anything since the night before and even then it was just cocktail party snacks, not a real meal. My stomach reminded me how empty it was every few minutes with a low, dissatisfied grumbling. The inside of my mouth had been dry for hours and the sand made it gritty.
To make matters worse, my once-respectable sunburn for a pasty tech-support ghoul had turned into a stinging welt that covered every inch of exposed skin. Could I actually die out here? I shook my head. No way I was going to end up as some crab’s dinner.
There was nothing to do but keep moving. If a search party seriously came looking for me, they could catch up on four-wheelers in the space of an hour. It was more likely that I was nearly there. I always second-guessed myself, thinking I was lost just before I arrived at my destination.
I kept putting one sore foot in front of the other.
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I stopped to catch my breath for what felt like the hundredth time that day and watched as the sun dimmed to red while the sky turned a glorious shade of gold-streaked magenta. The ocean was a shimmering mirror, reflecting the sunset almost like an impressionistic painting come to life, but I just wanted to see some water that wasn’t filled with salt.
The soft curve of the beach continued, and judging by the position of the sun, I had nearly walked in a complete circle. That got me really worried because I knew for a fact that the retreat wasn’t held on an island.
When I finally saw a jumble of boulders, ruby-tinted mist periodically bursting into the air above them, I sank to my knees. That was it. I was on a desert island. There was no one here. I had no food, no water, no shelter, and now I was exhausted and burnt from walking through the sun all day in light tourist-wear.
I felt a sob coming on and reflexively suppressed it until I realized there was no one to hide it from. That set off the waterworks. I didn’t think there was any water left in me. I was wrong.
It was a good thing the old-timey sailing ship that floated serenely past those rocks was so big, otherwise I might have missed it.
I wiped my eyes, getting more sand into them in the process, then I struggled to my feet and ran towards the ship waving my arms and shouting like an idiot. My colorful shirt was more than enough to get their attention on its own.
They gawked, then pointed, then laughed. Then they just kept on sailing into the sunset, taking my rekindled hope with them. Eventually, I got the bright idea to look where they came from.
Above the rustling jungle greenery, I saw what might have been a wisp of smoke drifting on the wind. Hurrying in an exhausted hobble on my burned and raw feet, I slowly made it the rest of the way to the narrow inlet breaking the shoreline and laid my eyes on civilization. Well, let’s be generous and call it civilization. I certainly wasn’t in any position to be picky.
The ramshackle cluster of buildings was huddled on the edge of a harbor, sitting in a basin between two hills. It was hard to make out anything more detailed from this distance because the hills around the village left it in shadows, but that also meant the smoke drifting out from their midst was illuminated from beneath like a beacon in the waning light.
Stopping to catch my breath again, I glared at the boulders piled up to each side of the inlet. I probably would have spat on them if I had any saliva to spare. As helpful as they no doubt were in keeping the ocean waves from eroding the inlet, they were all that kept me from seeing the village first thing this morning.
I grinded my gritty teeth and started trudging towards the buildings, my relief at finding salvation tempered by my boneheaded mistake. They should have water at least. Then I could figure out where the hell I was and how to get home. I stopped when my view was suddenly blocked by a small message floating in midair. Golden letters shone from a polished onyx background.
You have walked 25 miles across unbroken wilderness in a single day.
+1 ENDURANCE
What the hell? Wait, don’t tell me. Waking up in a strange place with large wildlife, wooden ships, ramshackle towns, notifications, and stat points? I broke into manic laughter and punched the air triumphantly, jumping like Mario and whooping like a madman.
“Hell yeah! Transported to another world! Fuck you, Janice! You can take that 930-H report and shove it! Fame and adventure, HERE I COME!”
All of the fatigue built up over a long day of trudging through hot sand was forgotten like a bad dream. My skin still flared with pain from its fresh burns, my feet were raw, and my throat was dry but all of that faded into the background. I was finally free from the nonstop marathon of nothing that dominated my life up until today! I had a chance to become something greater, I had a chance to matter, and I was determined to grab onto that chance with both hands and never let go!
If there were any lingering regrets shoved into the back of my mind and locked there, it was that I couldn’t share this adventure with any of my friends, but that was a small concern compared to the new world laid out at my feet. Besides, I already left them behind long ago, chasing some stupid company halfway across the country.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll stumble across a magic wardrobe or something that will let me invite a few other people into this world. Just gotta watch out for strangers on sleighs offering up Turkish delight. Then again, with these tropical surroundings, I probably didn’t have to worry about that particular witch.
As soon as I managed to stop celebrating, I started towards the buildings. My sudden burst of energy wore off as quickly as it had come on and I barely had the strength to stagger toward the village. I immediately began running through the usual tests and it didn’t take me long to get results.
“Menu, Status, Options, Character.”
After I mumbled “Character,” another reflective onyx plaque appeared, hovering in the air before me, embossed with more of those softly glowing golden letters. I smiled to myself, too tired to jump for joy a second time as I read my character information.
Name: Patrick
Titles: Trans-Dimensional Being
Feats: 0/1
Level: 1
Essence: 0/100
Strength: 6
Endurance: 4
Dexterity: 12
Intelligence: 14
Attunement: 2
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Charisma: 6
Luck: 14
HP: 60
SP: 2/40
MP: 140
The first thing that caught my eye was the flashy title. I wondered what it meant to be a Trans-Dimensional Being and a new plaque appeared alongside my character information.
Trans-Dimensional Being
You have fallen through a crack in the universe and landed in another dimension. The gods in no way admit any wrongdoing but grant you the following boons to help you adapt to your new circumstances in accordance with Universal-Statute: 87, Subsection: 3.
What was with that wording? Do the gods need lawyers for this sort of thing?
The message threw cold water over my burning enthusiasm. I deflated as it became clear that I wasn’t literally chosen by the gods to fulfill some grand prophecy. Despite my unrealistic expectations, I wasn’t able to stay disappointed for long. The gods might not have hand-picked me to be their champion but they gave out some pretty killer consolation prizes.
Earth Mother’s Boon: Universal Understanding
x10 skill experience gain
+10 free Skill Points per level (15 total)
Language barriers are nullified
Access to the “Know thyself” personal interface
Universal Understanding was a game changer! A ten times increase in skill experience gain was just unfair. That meant I could practice something for four hours and improve as if I had devoted an entire 9-5 work-week to that skill! On the other hand, I’d need the skill boost to catch up with people who had been practicing all their lives. I didn’t really have experience with any skills that would come in handy here. I doubt they had many openings for tech-support in a world where wooden sailing ships were common, not that I would ever go back to my old job now. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about learning Klingon or something before I can even talk to the locals, and that last bit about knowing myself is probably the reason I can see these notifications too. Definitely a useful bag of goodies, and the other half of the local pantheon didn’t skimp either.
Sky Father’s Boon: Dimensional Vault
Access to an extra-dimensional storage space bound to your soul
Weight of items stored in your Dimensional Vault is reduced by 50%
Time does not exist in your Dimensional Vault
Range: Touch
If I was reading it right, the Dimensional Vault was basically a personal inventory like you find in video games where your character has to lug around hundreds of healing potions, a few giant swords, and a spare set of armor; all without so much as a pocket in your plate-mail.
That’s when I noticed I was accepting this all a little too easily. I’d been a staunch atheist back on earth but I’d already accepted not one but two gods within a day of arriving on this island? Not to mention the stats and the levels. Don’t even get me started on the MP! Was I insane? That was definitely more likely than what I thought was happening…
I crouched down and scooped up a handful of sand. It filtered between my fingers in distinct wind-blown streams, too detailed to be imagined. I thought about my new dimensional vault and how much I wanted to keep this handful of sand. A moment later it drained through my palm, presumably into another dimension. My own private dimension. Awesome.
There were no special-effects, flashes of light, or sounds. The sand just disappeared, but as soon as I wanted it back in my hand, there it was, spilling between my fingers again. Well, I guess that was enough proof to work with for now. If I was crazy, at least I was crazy enough to believe what I was seeing. Might as well have fun with it.
With that little dilemma out of the way, I took a closer look at my stats. Using gamer logic, HP, SP, and MP are basically fuel gauges. My Health Points should only decrease when I get hurt, but If I ran out of those, it'd be game over. Considering that there aren’t any extra lives listed here, that would probably be bad. Stamina Points are used during exercise, and If I ran out of those I'd probably collapse in exhaustion or something. What really had me geeking out though, was the fact that I had Mana Points now!
Mana is generally used to fuel magic and it looked like I had a lot in that particular tank. Too bad I had no idea how to use it. That didn’t stop me from shouting “fireball” and thrusting my hand out, followed by another couple dozen embarrassing and fruitless experiments before I decided to shelve that particular project.
Next I looked at the attributes. Generally speaking, attributes are supposed to measure physical ability and while someone with 10 Strength might be considered average, someone with 25 Strength might have a decent shot at the Olympics, and someone with 50 Strength or more might inspire legends on par with Hercules. Games rarely bothered with little stuff like biological limitations and judging by the presence of magic, I had high hopes that the same held true here.
While I’d always wanted to see my abilities quantified like this, the low Endurance score made me wince. In all fairness, I hadn’t really done anything resembling exercise on a regular basis for years. On the other hand, the high Intelligence score left me feeling a little smug. It was one thing to think you were a bit smarter than the average joe but having a couple of divinities confirm it was vindicating.
I mentally dismissed the prompts and they disappeared. When I looked up, the little harbor town was closer than I expected. Details hidden by distance and darkness came to the forefront.
A low-tide rotting-fish smell blanketed the area and thousands upon thousands of tiny bones were mixed into the sand along with glinting sequin-like scales. Flocks of little stick-legged seabirds rummaged through the boneyard with their toothpick-sized beaks, chirruping to each other constantly. When I drew near, they burst into the air in a flurry of slapping wings before swarming down on another patch of beach.
The single dock was a mess. Gaps between the warped boards was the rule rather than the exception and the pilings leaned on each other like drunks at last call. The buildings themselves weren’t particularly awe inspiring either. Little huts thatched with palm fronds huddled together in a clump at the end of the dock and a few small, brightly-painted flat-bottomed boats lay upside-down in a row by the water’s edge.
A deeply tanned, scraggly teen sitting on the garish turquoise and orange boat glared from underneath a greasy curtain of black hair. He wore baggy canvas trousers, belted at the waist and ankles with frayed rope in addition to an undersized vest, sweat-stained to a dirty-brown color. He didn’t so much as glance down at his fingers which continued nimbly scuttling over heaps of netting, checking for breaks with apparent autonomy. I stopped in my tracks. His fingers stopped as well.
“Erm. Hello.” I waved half-heartedly.
The teen gathered up his netting with practiced ease and hugged it to his chest while making a beeline for one of the shacks. He opened a door with a foot and disappeared inside without a word.
“Okay,” I said to myself. “If at first you don’t succeed…”
On closer inspection, there was a larger and more permanent building hiding among the shacks. Where the shacks looked like they were made with whatever driftwood the locals could scavenge from the beach, this larger building was framed by stout timbers. The walls were made from some kind of clay daub and were fitted with an imposing set of double doors.
Those huge doors beckoned me forward. My first order of business was to try and get the local head-honcho to give me some odd-jobs and miscellaneous quests until I could afford enough gear to hunt monsters. I’d done these basic starter-village activities at least a hundred times before in games and read another dozen books about just this sort of situation. This should be a cakewalk.
With pep in my step, I made for the doors. The first time I knocked I hit them too softly. I was more tired than I realized. Gathering myself, I banged on the door harder, bruising my knuckles but getting a response. I heard a side door crash open and heavy footfalls approached the corner.
“Get yer grubby paws off my warehouse you rotting thief! I’ll take every finger that so much as...” The bellowing voice trailed off as a bear of a man rounded the corner and caught sight of me. His proportions might have been comical if they weren’t downright intimidating. He stood nearly eight feet tall, and every inch was clad in muscles that looked like they were cast from bronze. His greasy apron and stained green shirt did little to hide them. In fact, the straining buttons only seemed to emphasize his physique.
His chest was a barrel, his neck, a tree trunk, and his forearms would have put Popeye to shame. A great shaggy mane of salt & pepper hair framed his leathery face and it contorted as he grinned and then snorted in laughter.
“Puh haha! What in the three hells are you supposed to be? Gods! I’ve never seen anyone as red as you!”
I reached for the back of my burning neck and started rubbing it self consciously.
“I’m… new around here.”
“Sure didn’t need you to tell me that! What happened? You jump ship?”
“Jump ship?”—My hand stopped—”No, I’m just a little lost.”
The giant went into a fit of giggles.
“A little lost? What kind of backward sense of direction do you need to end up out here on accident?”
My hand dropped back to my side and I heaved a weary sigh.
“Look, I’m tired, hungry, and as you’ve pointed out, extremely sunburnt. I was knocking on your door to find out if you know a place where I could get some food and rest, maybe even some work. I didn’t do it so you could have a laugh at my expense.”
“Easy there lad. I was just havin’ a bit of fun. No need to get your knickers in a twist. I won’t ask what chased you all the way out here. A man’s past is his own after all. If it’s food you’re after, I can help with that much. Follow me.”
The giant turned and stumped back around the corner. I only hesitated for a second before following him in through the battered side-door to find a cozy little tavern. Fishing gear hung from the rafters, mostly old nets and colorful buoys. The far wall was fitted with a large fireplace and blocked off by a splintered old bar while the main area was occupied by simple makeshift tables, primarily planks laid over barrels. Crates were scattered around the floor in lieu of chairs. It would do. The only detail I really cared about at the moment was the enormous black cauldron hanging over low flames, issuing a rich inviting smell that competed with the old, salt-crusted fishing gear. I breathed in deeply, filling my nose with the mouth-watering aroma.
“Welcome to the Crusty Barnacle,” the giant boasted, “finest eatery this side of nowhere.”
“Smells good,” I said. “What’s on the menu?”
“Ain’t got no use for a menu seeing as I’ve only got the one dish. Frankie’s famous fish stew. It’ll keep you going all day for just one copper. If you’re needing something a little stronger I’ve got a bit of moonshine laid away. That’s two coppers a cup, but a cup is all you’ll need.”
Suddenly seeing a problem I hadn’t considered before, I dug into my pockets and found nothing but sandy lint.
“This is embarrassing,” I admitted. “I’m a little short. Could you extend some credit?”
“Being short is no excuse, you have to pay like everyone else.” Frankie plucked a ladle from a row of hanging implements and began to lovingly stir the pot of molten goodness.
“What? No, I meant I’m short on funds… I don’t have any money.”
Frankie stopped stirring and straightened up.
“Well that makes things really simple doesn’t it?”
He turned.
“Get out.”
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“Out. Now.” Frankie punctuated his demand with one hairy arm pointing to the door.
“Be reasonable. I’m sure we can -hurk” Frankie grabbed me by the throat, cutting off my words and hoisting me into the air with ease. He lifted me until our eyes were level to make sure he had my undivided attention. Nothing in his expression indicated that holding me at arm’s length was even a little bit straining.
“Here’s all the reason I need: I don’t feed drifters for free, especially drifters I don’t know. I don’t give a cracked scale whether you starve. Don’t let me catch you snooping around here again unless you have coin for my purse or ingredients for my pot.”
With that, he pushed open a set of wooden shutters and the world blurred as he threw me bodily out of the window. I pin wheeled through the twilight with an undignified yelp while my surroundings flashed by in confusing impressions.
Stars fought to be seen over the fading sunset and streaked past like sparks blowing in the wind. A small crowd of locals sitting under the tavern’s now open window whooped as I soared in a majestic, flailing arc over the harbor. I hit the water in a full belly-flop and an ear-splitting crack shot across the quiet water, startling a few flocks of the little birds into the air. As I recovered from the whiplash, sputtering and gasping for breath in the waist-high water, the small crowd of locals critiqued Frankie’s throw.
“He got up pretty darned high,” said one in an approving tone.
“But he didn’t go the distance. Frankie must have been holding back,” complained another.
“He did make an impressive splash…” mused a third.
Over-all, it wasn’t the kind of splash I was hoping to make in this new world.