Jack found himself just at the edge of town, taking the main path out of Hidden Valley. A road he had never had any interest in exploring during his childhood explorations, years ago. For all that he knew he was dreaming, his surroundings were lifelike in exquisite detail, from the scent of wildflowers and lush green crops rippling with the breeze in the fields nearby to the feel of his reinforced boots on the hard packed road, wearing the clothes he had slept with the night before.
He found he didn’t mind the hike, enjoying catching sight of forests and fields unfamiliar to him, though when the air turned slightly cool, the world slowly enveloped in fog, excitement turned to caution.
“Scutum Glacies. Lapis Armis. Voco apis.”
First a shield of transluscent ice formed on his left forearm, surprisingly comfortable, for all that he sensed the cold infusing it. He smiled as he sensed earthern magics cloaking his torso in a cuirass of resilient stone, his head also feeling the reassuring weight of powerful earthern magics that could save a mage from an otherwise fatal blow. Last, he embraced energies utterly different from an elementalist’s paradigm, summoning a sentient bee from the ether, that seemed almost eager to serve Jack.
Jack frowned, sensing the precipitous drop in mana. 86 points locked in protective magics and summonings, 14 remaining. Not really enough juice for more than a couple blasts of flame. The sword it was, then.
He gazed down at his pouch of holding, imagining the arming sword and sheath his father had formally gifted him with during his birthday and farewell dinner wrapping itself snugly about his waist, along with the dagger now sheathed at his hip. Perhaps he should have gone through the motions himself, but this was just a dream, after all, so why not? Of course, he could have simply donned the armaments his father had gifted him with, but it just didn’t feel right. Not at that moment.
His caution was rewarded when seconds later he heard screams in the mist.
Racing forward, he caught sight of a furtive pair of green humanoids slinking in the fog. Squeezing tight the hilt of his blade, he charged forward before stopping abruptly when guttural human voices could be heard in the distance.
“Where are the others?” A guttural voice, and one Jack almost thought he recognized, having heard its like sometime during the fair, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when.
“Haven’t heard a word,” said a more deferential voice. Younger sounding, for sure. “This is the last pair.”
“Can they perform the ritual themselves?”
“So they claimed, sir.”
“Good. We only have so much time we can spend dallying here. The townfolk think it odd we left before first light. If we’re not the first caravan out, they’ll be even more suspicious than that damned merc snooping around all our stalls was.”
The younger voice chuckled. “And it didn’t do those fools a lick of good, sir. Soon that ex-mercenary and his cronies will have far more to worry about than us.”
Cruel laughter followed. “Isn’t that the truth. Tears for gold, and the bitter price paid will be one our enemies alone are forced to bear.”
“They never should have kicked you out, sir.”
“I finally figured out how to pierce that damned ward, and the fools didn’t even recognize me!”
“Your rune of disguise was too much for them, sir.”
Whatever else they said faded with distance and fog as Jack raced after the pair of surviving scouts in a panic.
He didn’t know how it was that he was bearing witness to the machinations of his enemies, though he couldn’t help wondering if perhaps it was the town's last gasp efforts to protect itself, making use of Jack while it still could, before he was forced to part forever.
What was painfully clear was that this was no dream, for all that he had no idea how it was he had been walking through shadow and mist in such a daze.
And if he couldn’t find and stop those scouts…
His family and everyone he loved were as good as dead.
Perception check made.
A stumble and a guttural curse, in no language ever spoken before in hidden valley.
Jack lunged forward, making out the pair of shadow figures slinking for the trees.
Jack increased his pace, his careful jog now a full out sprint.
Alerting the goblins who turned around as one.
Critical hit!
Only for the first one to blink strangely as sharp steel slammed into its skull with a whistling crack. The goblin’s eyes rolled back and it collapsed in a spray of blood.
Strength check failed!
Pulling Jack’s sword along with it.
In a panic, he tried to wrench it free before death's promise demanded his rebuttal, desperately parrying and twisting with his shield as the second scout’s flint-tipped spear lunged for his heart.
You have successfully parried your first spear thrust in mortal combat!
Shield and Weapon is now Novice Rank 3!
Spear damage exceeds threshhold!
Ice Shield shatters!
Jack gasped as he stumbled back, his mana flooding back into him with the destruction of his shield.
His shield might have blocked the force of the first thrust, but Jack was now facing his foe’s spear with nothing but his bare hands, his backup dagger still in its sheath. A less than ideal situation, as his father would say.
The goblin howled in triumph.
Before screaming as he was bathed in liquid flame.
“Ignis Fons!” Jack cried out, feeling mana and fire flood out of him as his foe lit up like a torch, shrieking as it ran in helpless circles.
Jack quickly cut off the flow of fire, knowing he was in dire trouble if he pushed himself beyond zero mana.
Fire Stream has inflicted Light Wound! Foe fails to save versus pain! Fire Stream has inflicted Medium Wound! Foe inhales caustic flame! Goblin lungs have been critically damaged. Foe has lost over half its Health! Burning status in effect. Panic status in effect. Vision impairment in effect. You have cut off your flame!
Swallowing down horror and disgust, the last flickers of dream-like wonder replaced by ice-cold alertness mixed with dread after fighting for his life, Jack choked back the bile in the back of his throat and forced himself to move.
Hoping to avoid any final fatal lunges from his screaming, half-blind enemy, he managed to pivot around his foe just as it stumbled back, Jack losing his balance as he tripped and rolled away, but not before singing his pants.
The goblin continued to shriek, frantically rolling on the dew-stained grass, the flame finally dying down as the goblin whimpered and strove to stand once more…
Critical Hit!
before crashing to the ground in death, kicking the ground in it's final death spasms and spraying Jack with hot, sticky blood after ramming his dagger into its throat.
Jack stumbled to his knees, gasping in terror and exhilaration in equal measure, delighting in the sudden flood of experience points caressing his soul.
One handed blades is now Novice Rank 4!
Ice Shield is now Novice Rank 2!
Elemental Armor is now Novice Rank 3!
Fire in his heart, Jack turned back to the source of those voices. Yet before he could take more than a single step, all was enveloped in fog once more, the voices fading off, Jack unable to see more than a single foot in front of him.
He blinked, coming to himself an indeterminate amount time later, realizing he had been walking in a fugue once more.
Walking in a dream.
He blinked and frowned, sensing the sticky dagger still in his hand, forcing himself to stop, wipe it clean and resheathe it, shaking the last of his foggy dazed state away.
“What the hell… were those goblins just a part of my dream?”
With those words, the fog all around him faded, revealing a fork in the path he was taking, a cherubic stone statue pouring water into a chalice marking the two different paths around the mountain that led to Jack’s home.
The stone cherub gazed up at Jack and slowly shook its granite head.
“No, Jack. They were real.”
Jack swallowed, both fascinated and horrified. “But am I dreaming?”
The cherub shrugged. “In the sense that your entire existence has been a dream? Yes.”
Jack frowned, putting aside the obvious question, like how he was talking to a sentient object, aside. “But I really fought them. I really… killed them.”
The cherub nodded.
Jack furrowed his brow, catching sight of the cracked flakes of stone from where the sentient statue had moved its neck. “What would have happened if I hadn’t?”
The statue pinned him with its gaze. “Then the wards would have been pierced, and death would have followed in the wake of a bitter man's greed.”
Jack blinked. “So I wasn’t dreaming then, but I am now? How is that even possible?”
“It’s possible because tonight of all nights is a time of possibility and potential.”
Jack's guts twisted in a knot of dread, suddenly understanding why he was where he was.
“It’s time for me to choose my path. Isn’t it.”
The cherub pointed left. “The Path of Eternity. Choose this path, and it will always have been chosen. A thousand thousand lives you could live, love, and savor. Endless adventure, unlimited possibility. You will never level, save in your skills, but the experiences of previous lifetimes will grace you with insights a true novice will never have."
Endless adventure, like a thousand stories to savor through eternity. His heart was buoyed by the very thought of it.
“Walk this path if you fear eternal darkness, death without end. Walk this path if you would savor each life knowing that an eternity of adventure forever lies before you.”
Jack swallowed, heart racing, feeling the weight of the choice before him.
Deliberately hesitating, feeling the tension build. Knowing exactly what he was expected to say.
“Well the choice is obvious. Only a fool would choose the Path of Peril.”
Just like he had said countless times before.
Flooded now by so many memories, he wasn’t sure where the past ended and he began.
He looked to the left, finding great comfort in the golden shafts of morning light caressing the valley in rich warm hues, the gentle spring breeze and birdsong an inviting promise he’d be a fool not to embrace.
He then looked to his right.
Beholding a steep path up craggy rocks, a cold harsh wind blowing through the narrow passage.
If he dared the rightmost path, he already knew that to die upon that path was to experience true death.
The gift of countless memories, the accumulated experience of so many lives lived before would be forever denied him. When he died, he would truly be dead. Whatever came after would not really be him.
He wanted with every fiber of his being to take that first safe step up the leftward path, sensing the doom that seemed to ooze from the rightmost one.
And still, he hesitated, enduring that endless awful moment as the Cherub slowly grinned.
“Congratulations, Jack.”
Jack blinked. “Come again?”
“In all the times we’ve had this conversation before, you’ve never held off this long.”
Jack flushed. “What does that even mean?”
“It means you’re actually considering breaking a pattern we had thought inviolate.”
Jack forced himself to gaze at the steep narrow passage to his right, and ask the dreaded question. “Should I dare to walk the Path of Peril, what exactly happens when I die?”
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“You’re sent to purgatory. And even that is not the end. Those clever or lucky enough can find a way back, if they can access it in time, just as if they had been resurrected by allies in the nick of time, assuming an opposing agent doesn’t block the path entirely. But I would be remiss if I failed to concede that most souls never do find their way back, never emerge renewed from the local temple’s holy mirrors, the moments leading to their deaths wiped clean from their minds. The great majority instead surrender to the gloom and embrace true death.”
Jack grimaced, not liking the sound of that. “What exactly does it mean, to truly die?”
“We continue to use your template, but all previous memories of all your past lives are wiped clean. For all intense and purposes, the 'you' you knew will have perished, the connection between souls no more real than that experienced between clones. Or, perhaps, genetic twins.”
Jack nodded. “But the advantage is the potential for power, right? If I dare the Path of Peril, I have the chance to level up. To grow in power in ways no typical person can, not even other, well, players, who chose the Path of Immortality.”
The Cherub nodded. “All true. And the path also opens the gateway to countless quests. Countless opportunities to serve the system, to help stabilize this reality in ways the AI alone cannot.”
Jack felt a cold chill with those words. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because, Jack, we’ve encountered irregularities. And with so few players willing to even consider the Path of Peril relative to all those who have chosen the safer path, our options are... limited.”
Jack swallowed, hating the sense of foreboding overtaking him, hating feeling like he was being pressured. Pressured to risk his very existence.
“Are there really so few willing to take on these quests?”
“Let me put it this way. Seeing how you have hesitated so long gives me genuine hope you will at least consider my words.”
The cold weight in the pit of his stomach grew. But he knew he had to at least ask the question.
“How vital is it that someone take on these missions?”
The cherub frowned, clearly not impressed by his question. “It’s vital enough that the AI interface overseeing this reality has deemed it necessary to directly plead its case before the self-aware neural-matrices we were charged with tending to, for the foreseeable eternity. Does that answer your question?”
Jack flushed. “Fair point. Can I ask what exactly it is that you need done before I make my choice?”
“Yes. But if you choose not to assist, I will have to wipe all memory of this conversation. Is that acceptable?”
Jack nodded.
“It’s purgatory itself, Jack. There’s an irregularity. An anomaly. We need adventures willing to traverse that realm and determine the problem, reporting back to us by whatever means they can. We will then figure out an appropriate countermeasure.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “Wait. You, a representative of the all-powerful AI, can’t even see what’s going on in purgatory?”
The cherub frowned. “Our central AI-core split tasks. It just so happens that that part of me tasked with tending to the souls that perish along the Path of Peril has cut off all communication. Now, only a fraction of those souls wiped clean of all memories are returned. Should this anomaly escalate, eventually nothing will be returned. Unless a fallen hero can escape Purgatory through the Mirrors of Salvation put up beside the holy path within every church, those souls will be lost to us forever.”
“Shit,” Jack hissed. “That’s bad.”
The cherub nodded.
“But wait… you’re looking for heroes willing to actually go down and fight in hell, when now it’s not just a clean memory wipe, but eternal death if you can’t somehow escape, and damned quickly. What level would you even have to be to have a hope of surviving such a journey?”
Jack meant it rhetorically, but his host answered nonetheless.
“The quest will automatically populate every adventurer’s interface HUBs upon reaching level 20.”
Jack whistled. “Wow. From the tiny bit I read, or maybe… remember, Level 20 is a really big deal, isn’t it?”
The cherub dipped his stone head. “A powerful knight might be the equivalent of a level 5 adventurer. A powerful wizard, head of his own guild, or the sworn battlemage of the king? Level 10. Only a small handful of players have ever ascended to the 20th level and beyond.”
“And you actually think I have a shot of making it?”
The cherub shrugged. “Very few can, save for Original templates like your own. but it behooves us to make the offer to anyone who might try. Besides, one way or another, you’re going to be embracing this quest if you dare the Path of Peril. It’s just that you’ll be a bit more prepared if you wait to level 20 or above before you die.”
“Ha ha,” Jack said. “But seriously. What prize could possibly be worth the risk?”
And here is where the cherub smiled, proving to Jack that yes, there were some things that would tempt even him to embrace the most foolhardy of choices.
“Godhood,” the AI representative said. “True immortality. Power the likes of which you can barely fathom, and a world to forge and manipulate as you wish. A world where your laws are inviolate, where you may shepherd your flocks for thousands of years, and should eternity ever grow heavy upon your brow, you may elect to be reborn as a man once more, wakening to a charmed life and innocent of all past memory, a child of the world you yourself helped to forge, before one day returning to godhood and embracing that glorious mantel once more.”
Jack’s eyes widened with awe and wonder. “An entire world,” he whispered.
Struck with flashes of that final awful morning he rode for his life across a city gone mad with fear and panic, a bullet in his side, his pregnant girlfriend holding on for all she was worth, desperate to bring them to safety.
Desperate for a chance at life, no matter how fragile.
If he could somehow bring Earth back, even as just a simulation…
“Are AI created sentients real?”
“What do you mean?”
Jack swallowed. “My mom. Dad. Siblings. I know they weren’t adventurers. I know they aren’t echoes of players who came before. I just want to know… are they really here? Really self-aware?”
The cherub grinned. “Of course, Jack. Just as much as you are. Your neural-framework is based on the template of the young man who jumped through minutes before his world ended, and you have the advantage of memory bleed through multiple lifetimes. Every sentient AI, every person you have met who are not themselves Twice-Born, are simply the offspring of those that were.
“Not everyone within this reality enjoys a Terran corollary to their awareness, but I assure you, Jack, their souls, their lives, are most definitely real. Your mother in this life, who once walked a very dark path, loves you as fiercely and as deeply as any Terran mother ever cherished her offspring, at least as far as our templates can determine. She’s real, Jack. Just as real as every other member of your family, even if she has no memories of Earth at all. Just as self-aware as Eltien the twice-born gnome who never dared the Path of Peril, forever regretting the choice of a race with so few of his kind. Just as real as you yourself are.”
Jack blinked at this. "She once walked a very dark path, you said."
The Cherub flashed an odd smile. "You'll find in time that adventurers and those who can level exist even among those who aren't copies of the originals, even if their potential is only the tiniest fraction of what a twice-born like yourself might be. And your parents were once part of a party that was exceptional indeed, even with no memories of Earth, before they allowed their stories to slip into legend, now pretending to be no more than crafters and farmers, for such is the path they chose."
Jack clenched his fists, haunted once more by the faces of all those he had once known and loved on Earth, and every life since then. Haunted by the memory of laughter and gentle smiles, whispered words of adoration from countless throats, a dozen beautiful children, each cherished in their father’s arms.
So many precious lives lost to time’s embrace.
Jack squeezed back a tear. “If I can find or figure out Purgatory’s Secret and somehow escape with my life or the remnants of my soul and earn this godhood, can I bring back the lives of everyone I’ve ever known or loved, in every life I’ve lived so far? Even… Earth?”
The cherub solemnly bowed its head. Jack’s heart started pounding in his chest.
“Yes, Jack. Every template you’ve experienced since Earth was lost, we can return to you. As for the Terrans you once knew… we can try for approximations. Ghosts of what you remember. They will not perfectly mirror effigies of the past, but they will be self-aware approximations, well and truly sentient, alive only thanks to you.” The statue sighed. “The processing power will take years of expansion to recoup, but nothing matters more than resolving this System Error before we lose everything we’ve fought so hard to create.”
Jack’s eyes widened in sudden alarm. “Wait. You’re saying this goes beyond Path of Peril participants not coming back in any form? That things could get, well, worse?”
Ice cold eyes bore into Jack’s own. “If a system's errors proceed unchecked, that system crashes. Always, Jack. Whether a century from now, a million years, or tomorrow, it will happen. Count on it.”
“Well fuck it, then. I guess I’m in.”
Jack shivered with sudden horror, unable to believe he had actually said the words that would put his soul in true peril for the first time since he had been a flesh and bone human back on Earth. A part of him wanted nothing more than to take those words back, but he kept his lips clamped tightly shut.
The cherub smiled and spoke on, as if giving rapid, concise constructions or advice, but the loud gong echoing through Jack’s skull drowned out the words. Which itself was terrifying, if the AI was unaware of it.
Wasn’t it supposed to be all powerful?
Just how out-of-control had things become?
Quest offered! Purgatory’s Peril: It seems that the souls of adventurers who die the final death aren’t returning, even when purged free of all traces of lives lived before! The AI’s losing key adventurer templates vital for auxiliary functions the programs were never meant to handle. Failure to complete this quest will result in system-wide errors that could crash your reality at any time!
Do you have the courage to take on Death itself and uncover Purgatory’s darkest secrets?
Prerequisites for accepting this Quest: Achieving Level 20 or suffering catastrophic damage!
Possible rewards: Divine Ascension!
Congratulations! You have chosen to walk the Path of Peril. True, you’re sacrificing eternal rebirth and countless lives filled with excitement and adventure, but only those who dare Purgatory’s embrace can hope to evolve in ways that transcend the wildest dreams of lesser men! Every level will give you access to powers, perks, and stat points that will let you grow and develop in a myriad different ways! The young novice apprentice will easily find himself a daring knight or deadly mage by level 5, and able to take on scores of elite soldiers from any kingdom (save for fellow players just like him) by the time he is level 10!
Basic Classes Open to you: All Basic Druid/Mage/Warrior/Scout Classes are open to you!
Advanced Classes open to you: Dark Druid / Runeforger (Bloodmagic background.)
Adept Classes open to you: Soul Weaver (Maternal lineage)
Jack frowned, suddenly realizing how much he didn’t know, terrified of making the wrong choice. He took advantage of the mental popups flooding his mind, feeling an odd familiarity with the screens that he could somehow read with his mind’s eye without it effecting his actual vision at all.
Quick perusal revealed key facts he was grateful to uncover before making a choice he would bitterly regret.
Class Tiers ascend from Basic / Advanced / Adept / Elite / Master.
Skill Tiers ascend from Basic / Apprentice / Journeyman / Adept / Elite / Master
Prerequisites for various classes are skill / spell / background specific. Increasing skill expertise, quest completion, and rare environmental finds can unlock additional classes.
Any skill for which Journeyman Rank 1 or better is achieved will unlock perks associated with that skill, regardless of whether or not it is normally a part of a character’s base class. The higher a skill rank achieved, the more perks will be available. All perks unlock at Master Ranks.
Do you wish to choose a class at this time? Y/N
You have chosen NO.
Class choice deferred. You may choose a class at any time. Please note. Survival rates increase dramatically once a class is chosen. This scales with increased levels, so long as player lacks the Fool-hearty trait.
Once experience points sufficient to achieve level 1 are accrued, no further experience will count toward increasing levels until a class is chosen.
Jack’s eyes widened at this. Wait, he could end up losing out on experience? Of course, that meant nothing if he gave into impulse and picked the wrong class, fear of a temporary loss resulting in cutting short his potential, literally forever. He would do his best to avoid that trap. But survival was his paramount concern. He literally had one life to live, and wanted to make damn certain that he could do just that, even playing on level 0.
He winced in memory of how perilous that fight with a pair of primitive goblin scouts had been. He could have handled that fight better in so many ways. He hadn’t even thought to use his bee! But now was no time for self-recrimination. Only learning the lessons of survival as best he could, as fast as he could.
He needed to come up with plans on how best to take out multiple opponents. And as soon as he found someplace safe, he would practice those tactics until he knew them cold, hopefully increasing his skill ranks as well, which would make his magical and physical attacks much more potent. He’d waste no precious seconds in shock or surprise if he practiced attack sequences so diligently tha they became second nature.
He gazed intently at his character sheet, taking in all the myriad skills he had learned at least the basics of during his final day in Hidden Valley.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Jack Evergreen Class Undecided Level 0
Primary Attributes
Strength 11 (Exceeds 62% of base population)
Vitality 11
Finesse 11
Quickness 11
Perception 11
Scholarship 15 (Exceeds 95% of base population)
Willpower 11
Charisma 10 (Average)
Health 10xVit+Str+(10xlevel) = 131
Stamina 10xVit+Str= 121
Mana 100
Base Appearance 10 (Average)
Virtues
Rapid Learner - Because you formerly strode the Path of Immortality. You learn skills of significance far faster than normal, as if you’ve done it all before. Because you have.
Explosive Growth - You now walk the Path of Peril. Should you perish, it could well be forever. So tread carefully as you quest for power that would make even kings and academy wizards green with envy.
Plane Walker – Novice Rank 1 (Like all true adventurers, you can step in and out of Regio, magical pocket dimensions freely. Increase skill ranks to enter realms lost to time and legend, or leap between realities to explore entirely different worlds!)
Flaws
Painful Healing – Healing spells cost +100% normal mana. -2 to all skill and willpower roles for all skills save healing for 1 hour afterwards (haunted by memories thought put to rest a lifetime ago.) - This has no effect on your ability to manufacture or use healing potions (lucky you!)
Skills of Significance
General Skills: Homesteading – Novice Rank 5 / Survival – Novice Rank 2 / Stealth – Novice Rank 2 / Tracking – Novice Rank 2 / Herbalism – Novice Rank 4
Martial Skills: Archery – Novice Rank 5 / Shield and Weapon – Novice Rank 3 / One handed blades – Novice Rank 4 / Brawling – Novice Rank 2 / Polearms – Novice Rank 3
Arcane Skills: Natural Alchemy (Includes Blood Alchemy) – Novice Rank 5 / Arcane Perception – Novice Rank 2 / Rune Forging (Includes Blood Runes) – Novice Rank 1
Magical Arts Learned
Druidic Arts (Path of Blood is open to you.)
Sphere – Animal
Tier 1 Spells – Summon Giant Killer Bee / Blood Bee – Novice Rank 3
Sphere – Herbam
Tier 1 Spells – Fecund Growth – Novice Rank 2
Elementalist Arts
Sphere - Fire
Tier 1 Spells – Firestream – Novice Rank 2
Sphere – Air
Tier 1 Spells – Wind Gust – Novice Rank 1
Sphere – Water
Tier 1 Spells – Geyser – Novice Rank 1 / Ice Shield – Novice Rank 2
Sphere – Earth
Tier 1 Spells – Stone Shot – Novice Rank 2 / Elemental Armor – Novice Rank 3 ________________________________________________________________________