“Whoa, whoa, whoa, so is this a video game?” Adam asked the sky.
I thought this was purgatory. Does purgatory, or Hell even, have a stat system? Can I level up? How do I level up? Am I in a coma after all? Is this a dream?
…breathe…
Wait, why is my strength so low?
Thoughts flowed through his head like the water flowed downstream. Immersed in the possibilities, Adam sat on the river’s edge, staring into nothing as time equally flowed.
“So, does it even matter where I am? I can get hurt, and I don’t wanna die.” He decided, lip quivering.
A noise behind him broke him from his reverie. Snapping his head back, his eyes darted to the trees. He readied himself, grabbing the yet unwashed sword. The leather bound handle felt good in his hand, comforting. Although, he didn’t need a crystal to tell him what he knew already; he had zero skills with the blade. He did play baseball when he was little though.
Standing up slowly, he lifted the sword with both hands.
Elbows up, he reminded himself and settled into a stance… yet nothing came. There was a rustle in a bush about ten feet away though. Slowly, step by step, ready to swing, and never taking his eyes off the bush, he crept forward. Step. By. Step.
“Hissss.” With only a few steps to go, a blur of fur and teeth tore through the air. Instinct took over and Adam unleashed Hell upon the furry pitch. The blade sang out and cleaved the poor beast in two from head to tail.
A warm sensation bloomed in Adam’s chest. Simultaneously, a warm liquid splattered across his face followed by the sound of two wet thuds.
“Hah! Ugh, hack, pbbbth!” Adam spluttered, the foul shower having reached his nose. The coppery smell with hints of sewage attaching him. Not pleasant.
Turning and jogging, he dunked his head in the river. “Gaack, dear God… that was… agh,” He shivered and wiped his face. Cold, wild eyes peered back through layers of wet hair, blood, mud, sweat, and river water. The creature lay in two heaps. Adam: 2, Creepy Fucking Wildlike: 0!
Noticing that he still had a death-grip on the sword with one hand, he stabbed it into the ground and picked up the gem. He had a feeling.
After emptying his stomach in the river, Adam sat back.
“What the Hell was all that? It isn’t real. It isn’t real. It isn’t real…” Gently rocking himself, he repeated his mantra and slowly came to. His eyes darted around the unfamiliar trees. “Deep breaths,” he muttered.
In, out, in, out…
Am I dead then after all? Is this a dream? Looking at his bandaged arm, Adam shook his head. Seems real enough.
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Deep breath.
“Okay… whatever this is, it feels real.”
Deep breath.
“And it’s dangerous…”
Adam felt like crying, like curling into a ball or burying his head underground. Most of all, though, he felt cold.
“Okay… one step at a time.”
He began fishing things out of the backpack. The campers were really into their roleplaying it seemed. Items clattered and piled on the ground. Scanning over the pile, he couldn’t help but imagine his friends complaining online.
Loot, loot, loot, loot…, he thought, a familiar glint in his eye.
Adam picked out a glass bottle and held it up to the sun. Right … a health potion…
By now his throat was screaming at him for any kind of fluid, so… why not? It was probably juice or something, and it beat river water. He pulled the cork and smelled: yep, fruity.
Down the hatch!
Setting down the now empty bottle, he continued to sift through. Next up was a pair of soft leather boots. Holding them in his hands, he took a deep breath. In and out. Ahh … jousting, turkey-drumsticks, and leather, he thought, better times…, and pulled them on.
Enjoying the plush, velvety feel on his tender feet, a sparkly stole his attention. The wild-eyed youth looked down; a purple gem winked at him from the pile. Oohh, a magic crystal, he thought snarkily, And yet…
He picked up the magic stone, and a wall of words flashed into being.
Adam’s hand shot back as if touching a hot stove and fell over. The message was gone. He fell back and rolled away from the offending gem. Like a cornered animal, he was on all fours, poised and ready to act. His wild-eyes stared, unblinking, No.
No, no, no, no, no. You gotta be kidding me. What does it mean? What? No. I’m crazy. Yes… ha.
“Ha!”
He had to check again. Slowly, reaching out, much like his name-shake reaching God, he touched the gem again.
Name: Adam Bolthaus
Race: Human
Level: 2
Class: None
Subclass: None
Strength: 10 (8 + 1 + 1)
Dexterity: 13 (11 + 1 + 1)
Vitality: 13 (12 + 1)
Intelligence: 15 (14 + 1)
Wisdom: 9 (8 + 1)
Charisma: 11 (10 + 1)
Skills: Long Sword [1] [C]:
Strength + 1, Dexterity + 1
Traits: The Old Blood: unturning
Adams’s wild eyes were marred by a hint of madness as the shadow of a smile crept onto his face, “A feeling indeed.”