In front of Horn, rows of heroes disappeared, and a single cloud of energy began consolidating in the shape of his champion. She was stockily built, a dwarven woman of five feet high, with well-toned muscles bulging under her clothes, and her clothes were something. She wore leather work pants with suspenders, knee-high boots, and a linen shirt with a straw hat finishing the look of a small bulky farmer. Her round face was surrounded by graying dark hair gathered in a single ponytail. Some wrinkles were sprinkled on her forehead, but bright blue eyes and a straw in her lips gave her a bit of youthful appearance.
“Oy, youngling! Glad to be back from the limbo. Aunt Ingrid will take care of you. You definitely need some meat on your bones.” She said, chewing on the straw.
“Er…” Horn replied dumbfounded,
“Lost your tongue, or are you just a tad slower? No worries, worked with stupider.” Ingrid said, patting him on the head, “C’mon, let’s get going. The world won’t rebuild itself.”
Gathering his senses, Horn stopped her with a hand and said, “Wait, what? Stop there! First of all, I’m not slower, just surprised. I didn’t expect you. Boar Breeder? Strange class. What are your abilities? Are you a tank, support, or damage dealer? Where’s your equipment?”
“What’re you talking about, pumpkin? Did you fell on your head lately? I’m – me. The best you could have had, my boars were the champions in four kingdoms! Give me a good ranch, and you’ll see what I can do. I don’t fight - I create!”
“What the hell, not a fighter? A damn boar breeder? My luck just turned and struck me a finger. Shit! Okay, hold it together. Maybe I can get another one or replace this one. I have a lot of bonus points, time to spend them.”
Checking his menus, Horn cursed as the system gave him both good and terrible news,
Congratulations on the first steps in Dawn of the Nexus! You’ll be sent to the tutorial zone in 2 minutes. You have to reach the tutorial’s soul well to continue preparing for your journey. You’ll learn the basics of combat and defeat your first dungeon boss with the help of your champion. Remember, failure is part of the learning curve. Each time you die, the dungeon will reset, and you’ll lose 5000 Essence until a minimum of 5000. Good luck!
New Quest received:
First steps – part I
Objective: Defeat the first boss of the tutorial dungeon.
Bonus objective: Defeat all boss minions before the final fight.
Bonus objective II: Defeat the boss without dying once.
Failure condition: Die – will result in a dungeon reset and loss of 5000 Essence.
Reward: Access to the civilization store, unlocking of the second part of the tutorial dungeon,
Bonus objective reward: 4000 essence
Bonus objective II reward: hidden
“Well sh…” Horn started to say when a flash of light teleported them away.
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As the brightness dissipated, Horn took a look at his surroundings. The endless fields of nothingness were gone. Instead, he was in a small room made of stone, a nondescriptive gray mass, with a single torch hanging next to a plain wooden door.
Ingrid stood next to him, in her farmer’s gear. The only difference was a pitchfork in her hands. It didn’t look anything special, a wooden handle with three metal teeth at the end. Taking a look at himself, he noticed a bronze studded wooden club at his belt and a small wooden buckler strapped to his left arm.
“At least they gave us newbie gear. Great.” Horn sighed,
“Ladie, stop whining like a small girl. It could be worse. At least you have me to guide you!” Ingrid said while patting him on the back.
“Eh, let’s get done with that,” Horn replied, grabbing the club.
Opening the door revealed a short corridor, ending in another much bigger room. It was sparsely lit with a few torches here and there, but it was enough for him to see clearly like on a sunny day. The round cavern in front of him was mostly empty, with a single wood chest in the middle. At the far end was another door. Taking a few cautious steps, he entered the room. Ingrid was behind him whistling some lively tune. He was about to tell her to shut up when he heard a squeak. Focusing on the direction it came from, he noticed several holes at one side, and for a moment, he saw a snout with whiskers poking out of one of them.
“Rats!” He shouted, only to facepalm when Ingrid said, “Sweety, it's not so bad, I agree it's not the most pleasant environment, but it might have been much worse.”
“Rats, like enemies, be ready.” He explained as the room burst in a flurry of activity. From the holes, a swarm of rats came out. At least a score or two, but the worst thing, each of them was the size of a poodle, with a set of long sharp teeth, and they all rushed towards them.
Horn took a step forward, taking what he thought was a combat position – lifting his buckler a little, bending his knees a bit and raised his club for a strike. However, as soon as he had done that, something didn’t feel right. His body wanted to adjust his pose a bit, spread his legs for greater stability, lower the buckler a few inches, and change the angle of the club. He became confused for a moment, which cost him as the first rat launched in the air targeting his throat.
In a panic, Horn backpaddled, almost dropping on his ass. A wild swing nicked the rat in the air changing his trajectory just enough to miss. His body wanted to react, adjusting his stance as the rest of the swarm was quickly closing in. This time he listened to the instincts, and taking a few steps backward, he prepared—two more vermin launched in the air, only to meet the wide swing of his weapon. With a sickly wet thump, they went flying to the sides. Another one trying the same thing bounced off the buckler. A maniacal smile spread on Horn’s face as he fought like a movie star, splattering the vermin left and right.
But all good comes to an end. Finally, four rats managed to approach him at once, two were quickly dispatched, and the third one blocked, but the final rat weaved through his defenses and bit deep into his thigh. Pain exploded from the wound, paralyzing Horn for a moment. A moment of hesitation was all it took to another pair of vermin to bypass his shield and attack. One left a long scratch on his ankle that immediately started burning, while the second one started climbing on his chest, heading for the throat.
Another bout of panic spread through Horn, paralyzing him. The pain felt so real, the wounds burned, and tears appeared in the corner of his eyes. But as he was to collapse, he felt a tug of his subconscious. Almost without thinking, he shouted, “Radiant blast!”. A wave of light erupted from his chest, tearing off the rats hanging from him. They squealed in pain and were thrown off a few feet away, disoriented and blinded.
These few seconds of a pause were enough for Horn to gather his senses. He was lightly bleeding from a few deep gashes. The wounds stung, but not as much as just a moment before. Horn allowed himself to take a peek around. Only then, he noticed three bars in the bottom of his vision, red for health – hovering roughly at two-thirds, green for stamina – a quarter down, and a blue one for mana with around half missing.
Ingrid was standing in the corner, keeping a few rats in the distance with her pitchfork. Two rats were impaled on the teeth, clearly dead. Another five vermin were circling Horn, waiting for their four kin to regain their senses. A dozen or so lay dead around them. Taking a deep breath, Horn charged. Waiting would only result in a repeat of what just happened. Two steps brought him within striking distance of one of the blinded rats, and with a wet squash, it became a paste. Another step and his feet connected with one and launched him into the nearby wall. The remaining rats stopped fiddling around and rushed Horn. It became a blur of punching, swinging, and kicking, even biting into one that managed to latch onto his face, but not a minute later - It was over.
Panting, Horn slumped to his knees. Blood was still seeping from multiple minor scratches and gashes on his body. Despite the fight taking only a few minutes, he was exhausted. The level of concentration and adrenaline pumping through his body took everything out of him. He saw Ingrid taking off a rat's corpse from her pitchfork with a snort, then she tweaked her hat and started walking towards him. The room was reeking of blood and, who knows what, making Horn nauseous.
“Oy, pumpkin. You don’t look so good; you ate something bad? The dwarf shouldn’t be so green. I’m almost mistaken you for a goblin.” Ingrid said, chuckling. Not receiving any reply, she snorted and added, “We’re checking the chest, or you wanna keep mopping?”
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Horn ate curses coming to his lips. The lady was crazy! Didn’t she see he almost died here? What was wrong with the old geezer? He launched into the tirade in his mind when a thought made him stop. He was in a damn game. It wasn’t real. So what if he died? It’d only cost him some points. Even the pain, despite feeling real it was only his imagination. Somehow this simple realization changed everything. He hefted himself up, checked the bars, frowned a bit as they seemed exactly the same as at the end of the fight, with his heal below fifth, stamina at around quarter and half mana.
“Ingrid, what’s with the health and the rest? Why it’s not regenerating?”
Taking a second to probably check something, she replied, “It is, like normal. An hour or two, and you should be back on your feet.”
“An hour?” He exclaimed, diving back to his status. After focusing on his resources, he saw something that made him curse.
Health [Regeneration]: 4 / 24 [19/h]
Stamina [Regeneration]: 9 / 22 [17/h]
Mana [Regeneration]: 10/20 [15/h]
The regeneration rates were absurd for a game, over an hour to regain health? What the hell? Dropping down on his ass, he thought about the implications. Such a slow regen would mean that every hit would be critical. Each small nick could take a warrior out of the fight for a long time. Healers would become kings. Wait, he was a healer. Coming back to the status, he checked his abilities for the first time.
Combat proficiency level 1 – Passive – Gives a basic proficiency in fighting with all weapon types. Grants basic combat instinct.
Cure wounds level 1 – 5 mana, 2-second cast, 10 seconds cooldown – Mind / Spirit – Heals basic wounds, slightly increase natural health regeneration for 5 minutes.
Radiance blast level 1 – 10 mana, instant cast, 1-minute cooldown – Mind / Spirit – Blast the nearby enemies (1 feet range) with a blast of divine energy, damaging and pushing them back. Enemies further away can be disoriented and blinded.
“So that’s what happened. My combat proficiency had to kick in during the fight, adjusting my stance and hits. I’ve launched Radiance blast without even thinking about that. Damn, but does that mean that’s the game is affecting my thinking process? Well, that’s a thought for later. Now it saved m damn life. Let’s try the last ability.”
He focused on the Cure wounds. A short chant came into his mind. It took two seconds to pronounce, just like advertised. His hand began glowing with similar brightness as earlier erupted from his chest, but this one didn’t disappear. Touching a large gash on his tight, he felt a wave of relief spread from the wound. It felt like a cool shower after a long workout. It kept going for a moment, then the feeling faded, but Horn felt much better afterward. His HP grew back to a bit over the half, and most of his wounds - stopped bleeding. The spell healed him for ten hit points. Something worth noting, but he was down to a quarter of his mana.
“You said you didn’t fight, but that,” He pointed at eight rat corpses in the corner where she stood, “Tells me otherwise.”
“Youngling, fighting, and defending yourself are two different things. You think I’m dumb to allow myself being eaten by vermin?”
“Fair point, let’s see the chest then?”
“Finally, you start making some sense.”
The chest was plain-looking, without any lock. Horn raised the lid and smiled. Inside might have been disappointing in any other game, but for him, it was godsent. A thick leather chest piece, with arm and led guards, an iron onehanded axe, and three small vials, each in a color corresponding to his resource bars. Ingrid, on the other hand, just snorted, mumbling something about boar’s crap.
Trying to put the armor on, Horn found out another surprise. There was no equipment window or inventory one. He had to put the armor on manually, which led to some awkward scenes, including donning it back-front and stuck his arms like in a straight jacket. Finally, Ingrid took pity on him and helped to put on the armor, but not before laughing so hard she fell to her ass into one of the vermin corpses and then spent herself ten minutes cleaning her pants from viscera.
They were ready around half an hour later, with armor on, axe in hand, his cudgel dangling from the belt, and three vials secured in small straps on his chest. His bars were looking better, regenerating painfully slowly. The last thing left to do was to assign his attribute points. After a short consult with Ingrid, he decided to put two into Reflex to speed up his movement, a single one into mind and spirit to increase mana pool and its regeneration, and the last into endurance to expand health and stamina pool and their regenerations. Finally, he checked his status,
Name: Horn Skysmith
Race: High dwarf
Allegiance: Lightforge Clan
Level: 1 (23/200 essence) /0/0
Current class: Adept
Previous classes: -
Health [Regeneration]: 19 / 25 [20/h]
Stamina [Regeneration]: 17 / 24 [19/h]
Mana [Regeneration]: 13/22 [17/h]
Attributes: [0 free points]
Might: 12
Reflex: 10
Mind: 9
Endurance: 14
Spirit: 12
Ability: 13
Presence: 10
Skills [ 1 free skill slots]: Combat proficiency level 1, Cure Wounds level 1, Radiance blast level 1
Traits: Chieftain, Dwarven Endurance, Low Magical affinity, Magical Resistance (Minor), Low light vision1
Titles: -
The improvements weren’t dramatic, but every bit helped.
“Why I don’t have all my Essence in here?” Horn asked,
“Pumpkin, what do you mean? A few rats are just worth pennies. I’m amazed we’ve gotten so much out of them. Usually, vermin don’t give anything.”
“No, I’m talking about the Essence for summoning the clan. There’s like thirty thousand of it missing.”
“Oy, you are a slow one. That is a clan resource, not yours. You cannot use it yourself.”
“Yes, that makes some kind of sense,” Horn agreed, while Ingrid just rolled her eyes.
“And what about item statistics? Why cannot I see if that club is better or worse than the axe?”
“Pumpkin, I’m starting to doubt your parents, were they also challenged? Are you a scholar, a scout? Do you have a lore skill, or are you in a shop with an identification aura? Of course, you won’t see the difference.”
Muttering under his breath, Horn just barked, “I’m not from this world, you hag.”
A snort was just a reply. Not wanting to talk with her anymore, he opened the next door.
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Rats, rats, and more damn rats! Horn was sick of the little vermin. They went through almost a dozen rooms so far. In each, more and more small jerks awaited them. His once beautiful leather armor was in scraps, and that was the third set! Each room was quite similar, with a chest in the middle, a single door out, and a few dozen rats. They just grew bigger and meaner in each instance. Now they were almost two feet high. Of course, their claws and teeth grew the same, easily piercing the armor. That was supposed to be a tutorial dungeon? Still, it wasn’t all that bad. The rewards also increased over time. Even now, Ingrid was pulling one of the chests behind them. They ran out of place to carry the loot, so they just stacked it all in a chest. They got half a dozen leather armors, a few axes, war-hammers, swords, and a few dozen vials with potions. Each healed ten points of the corresponding resource.
The most important thing was the essence. After a brief explanation from Ingrid, Horn learned that the essence was both experience points used to level up the class and a resource used in a Soul well. What was somewhat surprising - the leveling up didn’t happen automatically when he reached the required threshold. The essence would keep accumulating, and it was a thoughtful act to spend it. As he didn’t have access to soul well yet and had over four hundred Essence, he spent two hundred to level up once.
Resulting in nice gains,
You’ve reached level 2. You gain: +1 Endurance, +1 Might, +1 Spirit, +1 Might/Endurance/Presence (choose one within 1 hour or it will be randomly assigned), +1 Free attribute point.
Congratulations, you’ve learned skills: Blessed weapons.
Blessed weapons level 1 – 20 mana, 10-second cast, 1-hour cooldown – Mind / Spirit – Imbue up to 5 weapons with divine energy for 10 minutes, giving them bonus damage and ability to harm ether beings.
The ability was expensive, taking almost all of his mana and enchanting several weapons for ten minutes. The effects were remarkable, as rats just disintegrated in a fountain of gore while struck, but it wasn’t worth it yet. He still had too little mana to use it. The pleasant surprise was that a level gave him five points in each health, stamina, and mana, but it didn’t increase the regeneration. He spent his free attribute increasing his endurance to boost regeneration. The downtime between fights was quite irritating, and he didn’t want to use too many vials with potions. They would probably save his life later on. The time was ticking, and he was stuck slashing rats while his competitors probably already cleared the first level with their combat champions. Once again, he cursed his luck.
“No rest for the wicked,” He mumbled and opened another door. However, it led to something else. There was a much larger room in front of him, a ginormous one. It was made of similar gray stone but was lit by a massive crystal hanging from the ceiling. The room itself was at least a hundred fifty yards across and fifty in height, and in the middle, there was a familiar large, thirty feet high, an arch made out of obsidian. Runes shone on the black stone, and a whirlpool of energy spun sluggishly inside the structure. It was a Soul well! It looked just like in the old game. He finally made it!
He was about to jump with glee, but then he saw what the remainder of the room contained. In a circular pattern halfway between walls and the arch, large piles of garbage made out of stone, wood, and pieces of metal marked nests of hundreds of rats, from the smallest one, same as vermin on Earth, to the large two feet long bastards. Even worse, in the middle, just in front of the arch, a massive albino rat slept. He was the size of a pony, with pristine white fur and choppers the size of Horn’s midarm. The vermin ignored them for now, but Horn was sure the moment he stepped into the room, the pandemonium would begin. The last detail of the cavern he noticed were five massive gates at the far wall, spaced the whole length evenly.
His arms sagged, and he said the only thing that came to his mind, “Well, we’re fucked.”