Equipment. The knife of an adventurer’s bread and butter. Usually recognized by the gods window; looks a bit like this: [Steel Greatsword
A Steel Greatsword, the most common equipment for a close combat Fighter or frontliner in the dungeons, can take several forms of which each can be interchangeable to the untrained eye. However appearances may be an unpleasant misnomer.
[ Rusted Steel Greatsword
[ Chipped Steel Greatsword
[ Ornate Steel Greatsword
< Access. Skill: [Identify] >
“A weapon’s soul determines what it is worth. Not its appearance.”
[ Ancient Knight’s Greatsword
{ Epic }
12/100 Durability
+120 Damage
+20 Strength
“Ser William, hand to the king, last known location; Lich subjugation request.”
[ Battle-Worn, Seriug
{ Named Rare }
89/120 Durability
+200 Damage
+50 Strength
+10 Dexterity
Grants the skill [Berserk LV 1]
“Left sword of Dalahin The Barbarian King’s Dual Swords.”
[ Ritual Sword of House Marast
{ Common }
20/20 Durability
+10 Damage
“A blade used in Knighting and Official Ceremonies. Loose pommel.”
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A dagger doesn’t work with [Lowest Rank Swordsmanship], not the way it should. The feeling is all wrong. I want the blade to reach further, but a phantom extension from what I am used to sticks out in my mind, making the dagger feel too light and making me miss my targets.
Training on the way towards the dungeon, Sebas slices the air at invisible targets, every other target is missed by a hand sized width. Not beneficial in the slightest. However… as long as he doesn’t exceed the first floor of the dungeon, it shouldn’t matter. The blade is merely a tool for skinning and horn removal, since he can just fight like a wild beast and rip the throats out of the rabbits.
[Bite] is a weak skill, a super weak skill, and it drags a feeling that he needs to use it towards the front of his mind like a wolf needs to eat, he needs to use his “cursed” skill.
There’s something strange about it, however the most important part of it to Sebas is the fact that he doesn’t look like a wild animal every single time he hunts down a monster.
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Arriving to the southeastern dungeon entrance, “Sir” Elimir and a young guildmaiden sit at the booth.
“Well well well, if it isn’t the one handed rabbit slayer.”
“You still are the worst Sir Elimir.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Aye, thank you lad.”
Sebas raises his plate and the quiet guildmaiden writes it down on a document.
Elimir assists Sebas with opening the entrance, and makes small talk. “How was the church? Cute girls working there surely made your day a lot better rabbit slayer?”
“Didn’t go.”
“Well why not? You didn’t just come back with a hole in your hand did you?”
Flashing a lightly bandaged hand with a massive scar caving into the middle of his hand, Sebas says “Didn’t need it.”
“Bloody fuckin… just be careful kid, don’t die stupidly.” He sighs and closes the red haired adventurer within the dungeon.
“Who was that, sir Elimir?”
“Oh, just some brat who became an adventurer the other day.”
“Where is his party?”
“He doesn’t seem like a very kind and “people” person, lass you’re free to ask him later yourself.” Elimir says, Nudging the girl lightly on the shoulder.
“Please be serious, it’s dangerous!”
“I’ve never seen anyone survive a deadly rabbit attack! Oh wait… yes I have, he’ll be fine. Might have something wrong with his head though.”
The young guildswoman shakes her head in disbelief of her senior, a small iron plate shines in the sunlight on her chest.
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Low in the grass, Sebas’ bright red hair sticks out like a sore thumb, or an upside down strawberry peeking out from the top of its bushel.
In his hand is the
Sebas runs forward, outside of the brush, the horned rabbit begins to [Flee] as a sudden aura of red light comes forward to envelop the creature’s legs, its speed becoming faster as it flees the hunter.
Sebas is quickly outpaced by the [Flee]ing rodent, bent over holding his thighs with an unexercised body of 6 years holding down on him, making his breakfast’s presence known with an acidic taste and a bubble of liquid in the back of his throat.
He decides to take a minute, just a minute.
The saving grace of having a high stat score means that your Constitution being at 5 makes you recover faster than your normal self would. By about 0.3%, it is not great, but it prevents you from throwing up your breakfast when you exert yourself.
Shaking his head and getting back to a low point in the grass, Sebas waits, and continues to will his mind through the system. He begins to attempt to [Identify] his items.
[Iron Dagger
[Access… you do not have the required permission. [Identify] is locked.]
Shit. Guess that means he would need a job change then.
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Most skills can be obtained, most. Anyone can learn how to use a bow, but the amount of people that can properly use and activate a skill for a bow. It depends on three things.
Aptitude.
An individual has a predetermined limit on their individual soul and
While there’s no real “limit” to the number of skills you could learn. If you run out of skills to learn, that’s because you aren’t smart enough to know how to do something, or because it wasn’t in the cards for you.
A rogue? Yeah he can stealth, he’s probably going to get a job change for a
But when an assassin is able to use fire magic, he probably went down the wrong path, considering how anti-stealth a massive [Ball of Fire] would be, not to mention forming it.
Drive.
If you want to be [Resistent to getting Hurt] you have to get hurt. You can’t purchase a skill (unless you’re a rich noble with an active status panel.) if you want to be [Fireproof] you gotta touch fire, get used to it, burn off all your hair again and again, suddenly one day it could become resilient and burn-proof.
Mages especially have a difficulty, if they have nothing like a (Prodigy)‘s mindset or a (Quick Learner)’s attitude, sit down, eat and get over it; you failed. Try again and do it better.
Luck.
A thug from an alleyway had a skill, a skill I hated. A skill that let him touch me and chill my shoulder and make me feel like a fucking popsicle. My guess? [Icy Touch], [Mana Drain], something that makes you not feel right. A lucky bastard like that doesn’t know hardship.
I know fucking hardship. I am hard.
Wait.-
A rustle in the grass and a broken twig distracts Sebas’ internal rant, forcing a focus to his mind.
A horned rabbit with a Bifurcation of the horn, making it have multiple sticking out in a single Mohawk like style.
Sebas reckons this one will be less likely to [Flee]… and more likely to doom him.
He slowly attempts to get up, making a small noise as a stick cracks underneath his palm. Directing the attention from the red-eyed hare directly at his position.
“SKREEEEE”
Oh what the f-
The
Sebas kicks his way off the ground and holds his (once more) damaged arm outward as a shield, fortunately a small Knick is all he receives from the beast. Two horns and a higher
The rabbit [Charge]s again, frenzied like a mad dog, drunk on blood and seeking it out.
A swift clang of his blade slaps the beast’s horn from mid air into the grass nearby, the fat rabbit must be a higher level since it is nowhere near as small.
Another [Charge] slams into his side, and a swift and deft hand punches the rabbit, wounded arm holding a slight puncture viewing blood on his once clean hand.
Sebas focuses, holding his dagger in an outward position, thinking back to training. Calm, and swift.
A [Charging] rabbit is caught on the front leg with a dagger’s tip.
Something, off begins to pulse from within Sebas, he feels his teeth hurt, and attempts to ignore it by slinging another knife slice at the rabbit, cutting off a single toe.
“Come on big fella… just nice and easy.”
Sebas turns around, holding his arm out, and begins to flip his dagger, preparing it for a stab.
The [Charge] is almost caught by Sebas, who is now trying to grab the beast that headbutt’s his stomach, stabbing his chest and shattering his ribs.
On the tumble, the way down from the massive explosive attack, Sebas plunges his dagger directly into the rabbit’s head, and pulls downward to slice open the back of it’s neck.
He shakily reaches down towards his left while the hefty corpse lay on his upper chest and stomach.
A “pop” sounds as the cork flies off a bottle, and the green liquid is downed immediately, causing a sharp pain within Sebas’ body.
He curses at the fucked up masochistic healing in this world. Pope, shmope, make something that doesn’t hurt asshole.
He sits upright where a massive rabbit plops into his lap, shoved out by his rapidly healed chest.
He thinks about hitting the beast, and twirls the knife in his hand before he begins to cut around the neck of the creature and remove the pelt from it, along with both horns… sorry, he thinks, I didn’t really want to be an adventurer but… I like eating food that isn’t… covered in mold.
He sits down and holds a meaty and bloody furrless rabbit with a missing toe and tosses it towards the dungeon ground.
In a moment, 23 seconds to be precise (without a measuring instrument) Sebas watches the beast’s flesh return to the soil, after a blue blazing fire that refuses to harm the grass around it removes the meaty pile to the dungeon. Mana is not created, nor destroyed. Dungeons are fucked up. Perfectly good food, bones, horns, materials, magical cores. They make clones and mutants from the world and just copy things. It’s weird.
Sebas stands up and inspects his chest, where a semicolon shaped scar shows up as a mark underneath his tattered and bloody shirt.
Well… [2x Rabbit Horns] and [1x Rabbit Pelt] it’s a start… he places them into his [Satchel] and lays on the grass for a while.
[Notice: Kill confirmed, Level 3 Bi-Horned Rabbit.]
[Experience Points have been gained.]