The village smelled of smoke and blood. The fires from the raid had long since been extinguished, but the charred remains of huts and the metallic tang of spilled life lingered in the air. John stepped carefully over the broken remains of a fence, dragging a pile of warped planks behind him. His back ached, and his arms were sore from hauling debris all morning, but he kept moving.
Around him, the villagers worked in somber silence. Men and women patched walls with salvaged wood, while others dug shallow graves for those who hadn’t survived the assault. Freya passed by carrying a bundle of spears, her steps hurried but steady. She nodded at John, her expression unusually serious.
“Cheerful place,” John muttered to himself, tossing the planks onto a growing pile near the blacksmith’s ruined forge. He leaned on his walking stick, scanning the village. Despite the grim atmosphere, there was a strange calm, a momentary reprieve from the chaos of the last few days.
That calm, however, was fragile.
“Bone Caller,” a voice barked, snapping John out of his thoughts. Bjorn strode toward him, his massive frame casting a shadow over the rubble. In his hands, he held a battered shield, its once-proud design now marred by deep gouges.
“Didn’t know I had a title now,” John said, straightening.
Bjorn ignored the comment, thrusting the shield toward him. “Look at this.”
John took the shield reluctantly, running his fingers over the gouges. They weren’t from a blade or an axe. They were long and uneven, more like claw marks than anything a weapon could make.
“What did this?” John asked, frowning.
Bjorn’s face darkened. “That’s what I’d like to know. Found it on one of the raiders. Whatever it was, it scared the hell out of them, they were running from something, Bone Caller, not just attacking us for sport.”
“Great,” John muttered, handing the shield back. “So we’re dealing with something even scarier than a bunch of murder-happy Vikings. Fantastic.”
Bjorn grunted, walking away without another word.
As the day went on, more strange signs emerged. John spotted claw marks etched deep into the trunks of trees near the edge of the forest, far too large and jagged to belong to any animal he knew. Livestock penned in a makeshift corral were restless, their eyes wide and fearful as they huddled together.
“Something spooked them,” Freya said, appearing at his side. Her voice was quieter than usual, tinged with concern.
John nodded. “Yeah. Starting to feel like we’re not the scariest thing in these woods.”
Freya crossed her arms, staring at the forest. “You notice the birds?”
John blinked. “What about them?”
“They’re gone,” she said simply.
John glanced up. She was right. The usual calls and rustles of the forest were absent, replaced by an eerie, oppressive silence.
“Okay,” John said, forcing a laugh. “I don’t know about you, but I’m voting we install a massive ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign at the village gate and call it a day.”
Freya didn’t laugh.
By evening, the strange signs had given way to rumors. Villagers gathered in small groups, their voices hushed but urgent. John caught snippets of their conversations as he passed.
“They say it’s the Black Warden.”
“Old stories. Shadows that walk the forest.”
“I heard it was a warlord. One of the raiders’ chiefs, but twisted... unnatural.”
John frowned, his curiosity growing despite the knot forming in his stomach. He approached one of the elders, a frail woman with a face like wrinkled parchment.
“What’s everyone talking about?” he asked, keeping his tone light.
The elder glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “The raiders weren’t here for plunder, Bone Caller. They were running. Chased by something worse.”
“Worse?”
She nodded, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The Black Warden. A shadow that commands the dead. They say it’s older than the forest itself. It hunts those who trespass in its lands.”
John’s mouth went dry. “And you think... it’s coming here?”
The elder didn’t answer, but the fear in her eyes was enough.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, John found himself at the edge of the village, staring into the dark forest. The claw marks on the trees gleamed faintly in the fading light, and the oppressive silence weighed heavily on him.
“What do you think it is?” Freya’s voice startled him. She stood beside him, her axe slung over her shoulder, her gaze fixed on the treeline.
“No idea,” John admitted. “But I don’t think it’s friendly.”
Freya glanced at him, her usual smirk replaced by something softer. “You’re not scared, are you?”
“Terrified,” John said honestly. “But what else is new?”
She smiled faintly, shaking her head. “You’re braver than you give yourself credit for, Bone Caller. Most people would’ve run by now.”
John chuckled, though his eyes remained on the forest. “Yeah, well, running hasn’t exactly worked out great for me so far.”
The two stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the unknown pressing down on them.
“We’ll figure it out,” Freya said finally, her voice firm. “Whatever’s coming, we’ll face it.”
John nodded, gripping his walking stick a little tighter. “Yeah. Together.”
The longhouse was quiet save for the occasional crackle of the central hearth. John sifted through a pile of battered equipment, muttering under his breath about how the raiders could attack but not leave anything useful behind. Freya sat nearby, sharpening her axe, her gaze flicking to him every so often with an amused smirk.
“You’ve been grumbling for twenty minutes,” she said, her tone light. “Find anything worth keeping yet?”
“Just rusty swords, broken shields, and the faint hope that one of these helmets will fit my oversized skull,” John replied, holding up a misshapen piece of metal before tossing it aside.
As he dug deeper, his fingers brushed against something strange, a smooth, leather-bound surface. Pulling it free, he found himself holding an ancient book, its black cover marked with faintly glowing runes. The symbols shifted and pulsed, almost as if alive.
“Uh, Freya?” he called, holding the book up. “Does this scream ‘cursed’ to you, or is it just me?”
Freya stood, her eyes narrowing as she studied the artifact. “What is that?”
“No idea,” John admitted. “But it’s glowing. And glowing stuff is never boring.”
The moment he opened the book, cold energy surged through him, and the system interface snapped into view, filling his vision with a cascade of notifications.
----------------------------------------
KEY EVENT: SYSTEM ACTIVATION
----------------------------------------
[SYSTEM ALERT: UNIQUE ARTIFACT DETECTED]
“Book of the Forgotten Tides”
* A relic tied to the necromantic arts. Grants insight into summoning mechanics and system origins. Unlocks new skills and upgrades tied to the Deathcaller class.
----------------------------------------
The book’s pages glowed faintly as runes shifted into text John could understand. His system expanded, revealing a mix of familiar and new skills available for selection.
----------------------------------------
[NEW SKILLS AVAILABLE]
1. Death Lash (Level 0): A direct magical attack that conjures necrotic tendrils to strike enemies.
“Unleash death itself on your foes.”
Mana Cost: 15 per use.
2. Gravebond (Level 1 Upgrade): Increases minion speed and durability. Further progression unlocks Skeleton Durability (No Degradation) at higher levels.
“Make your minions harder, better, faster, stronger.”
3. Bone Wall (Level 0): Summon a temporary wall of bones to block enemies or protect allies.
Mana Cost: 30. Duration: 2 minutes.
----------------------------------------
[PREVIOUS SKILLS AVAILABLE]
1. Bone Armor (Level 0): Summon skeletal plating to protect yourself.
“You’re slightly less fragile!”
Mana Cost: 15.
2. Corpse Sense (Level 0): Passively detect corpses within a 20-foot radius. Costs no Mana.
“Find your next skeleton friend faster.”
3. Soul Anchor (Level 0): Create a stationary point to stabilize undead, preventing them from decaying over time.
Mana Cost: 20.
4. Mana Regen (Passive, Tier 1): Increases mana regeneration by 10%.
“Because running out of juice sucks.”
----------------------------------------
[NEW CLASS-SPECIFIC SKILLS BASED ON TRAINING/OBSERVATIONS]
1. Skeletal Swordplay (Level 0): Grants undead minions basic melee combat skills, improving their effectiveness in close quarters.
Mana Cost: 10 per minion.
2. Tactical Spearplay (Level 0): Grants the user improved spear proficiency, allowing for quicker strikes and more precise thrusts.
“Adapt to your world, Bone Caller.”
3. Improvised Armory (Level 0): Allows summoned skeletons to use salvaged weapons with increased efficiency.
“Rusty weapons are better than no weapons.”
----------------------------------------
John’s jaw dropped as he scrolled through the menu. “This is... a lot.”
Freya arched an eyebrow. “More glowing text? What does it say?”
“New skills,” John said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Apparently, the book likes me and decided to throw a bunch of options my way.”
Freya tilted her head, her curiosity evident. “Which ones?”
John paced as he read through the descriptions. Freya followed him, her axe resting casually on her shoulder.
“Okay,” John said, holding up a hand. “Hear me out. Death Lash gives me a magical attack. Finally, something where I’m not just yelling ‘go fight for me!’ at skeletons.”
Freya smirked. “Sounds useful. But what else?”
“Gravebond upgrade,” John continued, scrolling down. “If I push this, my skeletons will stop falling apart mid-battle eventually. You’ve seen how annoying that gets.”
“True,” Freya admitted. “But what about the bone wall thing? Couldn’t that block off those raiders next time?”
“Maybe,” John said. “But it’s pricey mana-wise. I’d only get a couple of casts before I’m tapped out.”
Freya gestured toward the “Tactical Spearplay” option. “And what about that one? You’ve been training with the spear, right? Seems like you could use it better if you didn’t swing it around like a drunk farmer.”
“Rude,” John muttered, though he couldn’t argue with her logic.
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After a few moments of deliberation, he made his selections.
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[SKILLS CHOSEN]
* Death Lash (Level 0): Magical attack for direct damage.
* Gravebond (Level 1 Upgrade): Improved skeleton durability and speed.
* Tactical Spearplay (Level 0): Enhanced personal combat proficiency with the spear.
----------------------------------------
The system chimed softly as the choices locked in, and John felt a faint surge of energy flow through him.
Freya studied him for a moment, her usual smirk replaced by something softer. “You seem... different.”
John raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”
“Like you’re starting to get it,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. “This isn’t just about surviving anymore, is it?”
John hesitated, glancing at the glowing runes in the book. “No. It’s not. There’s something bigger going on here, and I don’t think I’m just here by accident.”
Freya nodded, her expression hardening. “Good. Because this village needs you, John. And so do I.”
Her words hung in the air for a moment before she turned away, leaving John staring after her with more questions than answers.
As John flipped through the remaining pages of the book, images and text began to coalesce into a clear vision. He saw flashes of two warring forces, radiant figures clad in golden armor, battling shadowy entities wreathed in death. The runes pulsed as a phrase burned into his mind:
----------------------------------------
“The Summoned Bridge the Gap.”
----------------------------------------
The system chimed again, this time with a cryptic message.
----------------------------------------
[SYSTEM PROMPT: ORIGINS PARTIALLY UNLOCKED]
* The summoning of necromancers is tied to an ancient battle between the forces of light and darkness.
* Your role is pivotal in restoring balance, or tipping the scales.
----------------------------------------
John closed the book, his chest tight with a mix of fear and determination. Whatever was coming, it was far bigger than him, and he wasn’t ready. Yet.
John closed the system menu, his mind racing. The choices had been tough, but he felt a flicker of pride in the path he was carving for himself. As the system chimed again, his attribute points came into focus.
----------------------------------------
[ATTRIBUTE POINTS AVAILABLE: 2]
----------------------------------------
He stared at the options. Intelligence had been his go-to, more mana, better spellcasting, and a sharper mind to handle the challenges ahead. But his training with the spear had reminded him just how fragile he was in this world. Strength, while far from his specialty, could at least help him stay on his feet when things got rough.
“Alright,” John muttered. “Big brain and slightly less noodle arms. Let’s do this.”
----------------------------------------
[ATTRIBUTE POINT ALLOCATION:]
* Intelligence: +1 (10 → 11)
* Strength: +1 (3 → 4)
----------------------------------------
A wave of energy surged through him as the changes took effect. His thoughts felt clearer, more focused, and his body, while still far from Viking-tier, felt just a bit sturdier.
“Not bad,” John said, rolling his shoulders. “I might not snap in half next time I take a hit.”
Freya, leaning against the wall nearby, raised an eyebrow. “What now?”
“Now,” John replied, “we make sure I’m ready to use all this when it matters.”
----------------------------------------
Updated Character Sheet:
----------------------------------------
Name: John Harper
Class: Necromancer – Path of the Deathcaller
Level: 3
Attributes:
* Strength: 4 ("Your skeletons might still carry the heavy stuff.")
* Dexterity: 4 ("You’re not completely tripping over air.")
* Intelligence: 11 ("Your brain’s bigger than your biceps. Congrats.")
* Charisma: 2 ("Please don’t talk to people.")
* Mana: 110 (Base)
Skills:
* Death Lash (Level 0): Direct magical attack with necrotic tendrils.
* Gravebond (Level 1): Increased skeleton speed and durability.
* Tactical Spearplay (Level 0): Improved proficiency with spears.
* Bone Armor (Level 0): Summon skeletal plating for defense.
* Mana Regen (Passive, Tier 1): Increased mana regeneration by 10%.
----------------------------------------
John exhaled, closing the system menu. He tucked the book under his arm, its faint glow pulsing in time with his own heartbeat.
Freya grinned at him, her usual confidence back. “Ready to take on the world, Bone Caller?”
“Not the whole world,” John said with a wry smile. “Just whatever piece of it comes after us next.”
Freya chuckled, her eyes glinting with determination. “Good. Because it’s coming, whether we’re ready or not.”
The weight of the book and the knowledge it carried settled on John’s shoulders as they stepped out of the longhouse together. The village might be quiet now, but he knew the calm wouldn’t last. Whatever was coming, he’d face it stronger, smarter, and ready to fight.
That night, John stood in the dim light of the longhouse, the ancient book clutched tightly in his hands. Its faintly glowing runes pulsed with an eerie rhythm, as if alive. Freya and Bjorn stood nearby, both studying the artifact with expressions that couldn’t have been more different, Freya’s face alight with curiosity, while Bjorn’s was carved into a scowl.
“This is what I found,” John said, holding the book out. “It’s... connected to me somehow. The system lit up the moment I touched it.”
Bjorn crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. “And you thought it wise to keep this thing? You’ve no idea what power it holds or what danger it invites.”
“Danger seems to find me no matter what,” John replied, his tone sharp. “At least this might give us some answers.”
Freya stepped closer, her gaze fixed on the runes. “What did it say?”
John hesitated. “It mentioned something about ‘The Summoned’, something about bridging a gap. And... it showed me things. A battle between light and darkness. I think this book is tied to why I’m here, and why the raiders are coming.”
Bjorn grunted. “Or it’s a cursed relic leading us to ruin.”
Freya shot him a glare. “And ignoring it will make things better? He’s right. If this thing is tied to him, we need to understand it.”
Freya turned to John, her voice softer. “Do you know what they call the Black Warden?”
John shook his head. “Only what I’ve heard, a shadow in the woods, something that scares even the raiders.”
Freya nodded, her jaw tightening. “It’s more than that. It’s not just some ghost story. My brother... he disappeared years ago, along with half the hunting party. The only thing we found was a clearing full of claw marks and broken weapons, and whispers from survivors about a shadow that walks the forest.”
John blinked, surprised. Freya rarely talked about herself, let alone something so personal. “You think this Black Warden took him?”
Freya’s eyes burned with a mix of pain and determination. “I know it did. And I’ve been searching for answers ever since. When you showed up, I thought... maybe the gods sent you to help us. To help me.”
John frowned, running a hand through his hair. “Me? I’m just a guy with skeleton Wi-Fi. Not exactly divine intervention material.”
“You’re more than that,” Freya said firmly. “You’ve survived things no one else could. You’ve grown stronger every day. Whatever this is, it’s not a coincidence.”
Bjorn’s voice rumbled like thunder, cutting through the moment. “Coincidence or not, none of this matters if the village doesn’t survive the week. We don’t have the luxury to chase omens and old stories. Every decision has to serve one purpose: keeping our people alive.”
“And what happens when the next raid comes?” Freya snapped. “Or the Black Warden shows up at our gates? We can’t just wait for the end.”
Bjorn’s eyes narrowed. “And risking everything on a half-baked plan with an outsider holding a cursed book is any better?”
John raised his hands. “Okay, timeout! Look, I get it, this thing is dangerous. But it’s also the only lead we’ve got. If we can figure out what it means, maybe we can stop whatever’s coming.”
Bjorn exhaled heavily, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “I don’t like it. But I’m not blind to the signs. If this book holds answers, you’d better find them, and fast.”
The three stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their choices pressing down on them.
Freya broke it first, her voice quiet but steady. “I’ll help you, John. Whatever it takes. If this thing can lead us to the Black Warden, I want to know. I need to know.”
John met her gaze, seeing the fire in her eyes. For the first time, he felt like he wasn’t entirely alone in this world. “Thanks, Freya. That means... more than I can say.”
Bjorn sighed, his expression softening ever so slightly. “I still don’t trust this. But I trust Freya. And if you’re going to chase this madness, at least make it worth the risk.”
John nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll figure it out. And I’ll try not to blow up the village in the process.”
Freya chuckled softly, the tension easing just a little. “Try harder than usual, Bone Caller.”
As they left the longhouse, the book’s glow dimmed slightly, as if waiting for its next moment of importance. The village was quiet again, but the shadows in the forest seemed darker, the air heavier with unspoken danger.
John looked at Freya, her expression a mix of resolve and vulnerability. “So, what’s next?”
She grinned, her confidence returning. “We figure out what that book means. And then? We hunt shadows.”
Bjorn’s voice rumbled behind them. “And you’d better pray we survive what you find.”
John exhaled, gripping the book tightly. The path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time, he felt like he wasn’t walking it alone.
The next day, John sat cross-legged on a pile of furs in the corner of his hut, a hastily repaired structure on the village’s edge, shared with a few stray chickens who occasionally wandered in. His makeshift bed consisted of rough wool blankets and a rolled-up cloak, far from comfortable but better than the snow outside. He tightened the leather jerkin Bjorn had given him over his tattered hoodie, the patchwork armor doing its best to make him feel like something other than a walking target. His jeans were holding on by sheer willpower, tucked into oversized boots scavenged from the raid.
Freya ducked through the doorway, her blonde braid catching the morning light. She tossed a small sack of dried meat at him. “Eat. You’ll need it.”
John caught the sack, raising an eyebrow. “This is your way of saying I’ve got another death march ahead of me, isn’t it?”
Freya smirked, leaning against the wall. “Bjorn called a meeting. He wants to figure out what to do about... well, everything.”
John sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Great. Nothing says ‘fun’ like a village meeting where I’m the centerpiece.”
The longhouse was crowded when they arrived, villagers packed shoulder to shoulder. Bjorn stood at the head of the gathering, his massive arms crossed as he stared down the room.
“We don’t have time to sit idle,” Bjorn said, his voice booming. “The signs are clear. The Black Warden, or whatever shadow stalks the forest, is coming. And if it does, we’re not ready.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Bjorn raised a hand, silencing them. “John found something, a book tied to these events. He believes it holds answers.”
John felt every eye in the room turn to him. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. So, it’s a magical book, definitely cursed, probably dangerous. But it’s got clues about what’s coming. And... maybe how to stop it.”
Bjorn nodded grimly. “The question is, what do we do with that information?”
Freya stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension. “We act. There’s no surviving this by waiting. If we’re going to fight, we need allies, weapons, anything that gives us an edge.”
Bjorn’s gaze swept the room, his expression hard. “We’ll send a small party to the Ruins of Dægra’s Hollow. It’s said the Warden’s power first manifested there. If there are answers, or weapons, they’ll be there.”
Bjorn’s eyes landed on John. “You’ll go. This is tied to you, and the book you carry may be the key to understanding what we’re facing.”
“Of course it is,” John muttered. “Can’t wait.”
Freya stepped forward. “I’m going too.”
Bjorn frowned. “Freya…”
“Don’t argue,” she said, her voice firm. “This village needs him, and he won’t survive five minutes out there alone. I’ll make sure he comes back.”
Bjorn sighed heavily, nodding. “Fine. Eirik will go as well.” He gestured to a tall, broad-shouldered hunter leaning against the far wall. Eirik gave a small nod, his face unreadable.
John looked between them. “So... me, Freya, and Mr. Tall, Dark, and Silent? Great team.”
Freya smirked. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep you alive.”
Bjorn turned to the gathered villagers. “Prepare them for the journey. They leave at dawn.”
As the meeting dispersed, an elder approached John, a frail woman with piercing gray eyes that seemed to look straight through him. She stopped him just outside the longhouse, her voice a low whisper.
“You carry the mark of the Black Warden,” she said, gesturing toward the book. “It will call to him as much as you seek him.”
“That’s comforting,” John muttered.
The elder placed a bony hand on his arm. “The Warden’s power is not his alone. It is tied to the balance of this world. The book you carry... it is both a tool and a chain. Beware the cost of unlocking its secrets.”
John frowned, the weight of her words settling uncomfortably in his chest. “Anything else I should know?”
She hesitated, her gaze softening. “Only this: the Warden was not always a monster. He was once... like you.”
Before John could respond, she turned and shuffled away, leaving him with more questions than answers.
The next morning, the village gathered to see them off. John adjusted the straps of his pack, the book carefully tucked inside. Freya stood beside him, her axe slung across her back, her expression determined. Eirik leaned against a spear, his silence as unnerving as ever.
Bjorn clasped John’s shoulder, his grip firm. “Bring back something we can use, Bone Caller. Or don’t come back at all.”
“Love the pep talk,” John said with a weak smile.
Freya smirked. “You’ll get used to it.”
As they stepped beyond the village gates, the forest loomed before them, dark and foreboding. The air was heavy, the silence broken only by the crunch of snow underfoot.
John glanced at Freya. “So, any chance this trip ends with us not dying horribly?”
Freya grinned, her blue eyes sparkling. “Stick with me, Bone Caller. I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”
Ahead, the path twisted into shadow, the faint outline of the Ruins of Dægra’s Hollow visible in the distance. The wind carried a faint, low whisper, like the forest itself was watching.
----------------------------------------
[NEW QUEST: INTO THE SHADOWS]
* Objective 1: Reach the Ruins of Dægra’s Hollow.
* Objective 2: Uncover the origins of the Black Warden’s power.
* Objective 3: Return with knowledge or relics to aid the village.
Rewards: +800 EXP, +15 Reputation (Village), Rare Skill Unlock.
----------------------------------------
John gripped his spear tightly, the weight of the journey ahead pressing down on him. Whatever lay in the ruins, it wouldn’t come easily, but for the first time, he felt ready to face it.
As the shadows closed in, the trio disappeared into the forest, leaving the safety of the Clan of Frostholm behind.