There was a moment of readjustment, of things moving and jostling and creaking in protest. I hung, paralyzed, and then… snap. Like a puzzle, the last piece slotted into place as vision returned to me.
Soul incompatible with host body.
Host body and soul meshing…
...
Soul has overwhelmed host body, body changing to fit new soul…
What? That thought raced through my mind, clear against a backdrop of confusion and fear, as I opened eyes – my eyes – and saw strange words. They floated in a not place, there but not really, as if I had only ever dreamed them. And then, I felt a horrible pain race through my bones, and everything went black.
If I die again, I swear to god…
~~~
For the second time this week, I awoke to biting cold.
My eyes fluttered open to a blue sky and the familiar sight of a snowy cliff-face far above me. The pain was gone now, although it’s lingering ache still left me feeling weak and shaky. With some effort, I managed to put my thought in order. Right. Petting the wyvern, getting sucked in, those words… wait a minute. Words floating in midair? Where have I heard this before? I have a status now, don’t I?
I shook my head and sat up – that could wait. Right now, I was naked in a frozen wasteland with no shelter in sight. Once I tried to get up and caught sight of my own hands, however, I finally realized what had been meant by host body and soul meshing. I was, essentially, a kobold.
Not a very pretty one either. I was small, perhaps four foot six, and covered in a haphazard arrangement of red scales and purple skin, with prominent ribs visible through my stomach. Strangely, my face was still human in proportions, with lips and a nose, and I had some – ahem – lady bits that clearly had no place being on a reptile. Not that I was complaining. I was still bipedal, thankfully, and had humanoid limbs to boot. But where there should have been nails, I now had claws. I stared for a moment, wiggling them experimentally. I could also feel a tail and two wings on my back, which was an exceedingly strange sensation – changed anatomy was one thing, but I had no idea what to do with new limbs. Though, they were both far too small to do much of anything right now, so that was a quandary that could be saved for later.
I was snapped out of my self-examination by a burst of wind that threw snow right into my face. It sent me scrambling backward, and I almost immediately tripped over my unfamiliar legs. I quickly scrambled up, and the freezing snow that now covered me made me realize a sensation I had almost forgotten – touch. I could feel things again. And right now, I was feeling really fucking cold.
My eyes were inexorably drawn to the two elves splattered in their own viscera. The corpses themselves were cold – whatever change I had undergone had put me out for some time it seemed – but the clothes were all intact. Too large? Yes. Bloody? Yes. Made for men? Yes. But here, it might very well be the difference between life and death.
Slowly, I approached them, taking care to step around blood-splatters and other… less mentionable things. If I had anything in my stomach, it probably would have vacated itself by now, but thankfully I had not eaten since waking up. Not like I had any food anyway. A minute or so later, I was looking down on one of the elves, the shorter one. He was lying face down, obscuring the gaping hole in his stomach I knew him to have. Knew him to have because his entrails were… leaking. The body didn’t smell, thank god, but I still had no intention of tarrying. I quickly pulled off his cloak, grunting with the effort of lifting it. I was beginning to suspect I was a hell of a lot weaker in this body than I was used to. The cloak itself was a thick construction of brown leather and fabric, which I swiftly wrapped around myself. It wasn’t much, and honestly, I had no idea how they had survived here with so little, but it blocked the wind. However, wind or no, I definitely wasn’t going to undress him for ill-fitting pants and boots. I eyed the corpse for a moment, and after a flicker of indecision grabbed a long dagger off of his belt before turning away. Who knew when it could come in handy?
I must have looked ridiculous wrapped up in the cloak meant for a six-foot-something elf, but I still managed a chuckle at the mental image. And then the wind blew once more, reminding me of my circumstances, and I frowned. Before, in spectral form, nothing about my situation had quite seemed real. I couldn’t feel, after all. But now, the weight of the cloth on my back and the piercing frost surrounding me were much more present, and much more pressing. I knew I couldn’t stay out here – even if I somehow managed a shelter out of the broken wood of the wagon in time for nightfall, I had seen the predators that stalked these lands. It wouldn’t be enough. I needed a house, or a cave, or just someplace warm to hole up and hunker down. Once again, my eyes were drawn to the cliff.
Cliffs have caves, right?
Mind set on a goal and a means, I began trekking out into the snow, moving perpendicular to the wall of stone that rose on my right. Which turned out to be rather more difficult than I had anticipated. My feet sunk into the snow with each step, and I continually regretted not taking a set of boots with me, no matter how oversized or covered in blood they may have been. Thankfully my appendages were some of the more heavily scaled parts of me, but my feet still felt like blocks of ice and I shivered uncontrollably. Frostbite and hypothermia were both very real concerns of mine, but not something I could do anything about until I found a place to stay.
As I walked across the snow, cursing the cold, I decided to finally test my theory of this being a world with a system. It was surprisingly easy to get my status to display, and soon I was gazing at four screens in my mind’s eye in between scanning the cliff-face.
Name: Eve Kirinell
Race: [Lesser Red Wyvernling]
Health: 39/40
Level: 5
Refined Essence: 0
~
Traits:
[Lesser Red Wyvern Venom]: You are capable of producing a venom that can numb, relax muscles, and even paralyze targets in high dosages. Provides minor poison resistance, and complete immunity to your own venom.
[Envenomed Claws]: Venom coats your claws.
[Envenomed Fangs]: Venom coats your teeth, and you have fangs especially useful for injecting it.
Abilities:
none
Skills:
[Phase] 1: You may use mana to temporarily phase yourself out of existence, becoming invisible and invulnerable to most things as well as being able to pass through physical objects.
~
Strength: 7
Fortitude: 4
Dexterity: 5
Perception: 9
Wyrd: 2
~
Paths:
[Freak of Nature]: 0/25
Titles:
[Orpheus Ascendant]: You have gone to the land of the dead and came back unscathed, if not unchanged. If you do not suffer a deciding deathblow, you may survive with up to a negative version of your maximum health.
Huh, so not a kobold then. And also, freak of nature, really? As if that’s my fault.
I snorted derisively at the words in front of me, before considering the rest of my status. The fact that I had one at all was interesting – while I had already consigned myself to fantasy, I couldn’t imagine what a society would actually look like when anyone could learn magic or pump up stats to ridiculous levels. The confirmation that I was no longer human was a bit disheartening, even if I already knew it. Not like I had to act like a “Wyvernling”, anyway, whatever that was. At least it kept my name. Other than that, a lot of the status simply didn’t make sense. Why was I level 5? It might be counting my time as a ghost, I had hardly checked to see if I had a status then, but I hadn’t done anything I would consider level up worthy. And furthermore, what is essence and wyrd? Was there an examine function in this system?
Wyrd: Your capacity for mana and its regeneration.
Ah. I’ll take that as a yes.
Immediately, I dived into examining every part of my status in detail.
[Lesser Red Wyvernling]: Not a demihuman, but rather a humanoid monster, wyvernlings are a unique race that posses the soul of a human but the body of a wyvern. They inherit something from both. The lesser red variants have a weak poison and are little stronger than the other lesser humanoid monsters, such as goblins or kobolds. You are currently the only member of this species.
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Strength: Physical power.
Fortitude: Resilience, against both weaponry and the elements.
Dexterity: Fine motor control.
Perception: How well you perceive the world around you.
I have to say, these stats are weird. How can they encompass everything about me? Where is reaction time, willpower, and all those other things? My race is strange too, although I guess it makes sense that a displaced soul wouldn’t be common. It would be worrying if I wasn’t the only member of this species, come to think of it.
Refined Essence: The essence of yourself, refined into usable form.
And that was decidedly unhelpful. You can’t use a word to define itself, system!
Paths: The paths you walk, paved in essence.
Titles: The results of great achievement, recognized by the magic of the world itself.
Whats with this thing? One second it’s all utilitarian language, the next it’s a damn poet.
At least I finally had a use for essence, even if I still didn’t know what it was or how to get it.
I smiled at the thought of once more being able to phase through things – honestly, that had been awesome. But my eyes stuck on the “use mana” portion of the skill. I knew I didn’t have a whole lot of that to go around, with wyrd being my lowest stat. And a skill like that would use up a lot of mana, if I had to guess. The title too, seemed like it could be a lifesaver. But I was hardly going to try and put it into use, so for now, I dismissed it along with the rest of my status and returned my attention to the cliff-face.
I shivered in the confines of my cloak, regretting my lack of clothing with every step. I had changed my mind about this place – it wasn’t beautiful. It was a frozen hell. Every foot-fall led me to sink a good foot into the snow, making the trek exhausting, and every gust of air cut into me like a dagger of frost. Worse still, I realized I was hungry. I technically hadn’t eaten anything in the entire life of this body, and was rapidly coming to regret it. Still, there was nowhere to go but forward, and forward I went.
~~~
It was nearly two hours of walking before I finally found what I was looking for. A craggy opening in the cliff-face, barely large enough to squeeze through, but right now I didn’t care. The ominous entrance lead into a dark cave that seemed to be more made of ice than rock. I quickly ducked inside, stumbling over frozen feet and wincing as my tiny wings were squashed into my back. I was grateful for any shelter, no matter how meager – I knew I couldn’t have lasted much longer out there. If the bluish tint my skin had taken on wasn’t evidence enough, my health had dropped to nearly half. My muscles were absolutely exhausted, and perhaps most worryingly, I had stopped really feeling the cold 20 or so minutes ago. With staggering steps, I moved into the cave, swayed drunkenly, and collapsed, my dagger still clutched in a frozen grip.
God, it was hard to think. My thoughts were hazy and unfocused. This might have been shelter, but I was still so cold. There was no fire. There was no warmth. I saw a demon looming over me, the familiar dark fur blending into the shadows, warm breath on my neck. Come to take me away, back to hell, back to the dark waters that chilled my very soul.
Wait. Dark fur… that’s not a demon.
My eyes widened, and I rolled out of the way just in time to avoid a bite heading straight for my throat. Fueled by adrenaline, I staggered to my feet, and spotted a snake where I had just lay, as long and thick as my arm. it hissed at me angrily. My heart began to beat wildly and I clutched the dagger I had somehow kept ahold of through this whole thing tighter.
Well, I say snake. And while it was shaped like one, it looked nothing like what I knew of those reptiles. Instead of scales, it had fine, dark blue fur, and pupilless eyes that smoldered – literally. Like, with fire.
“G-good snaky… Why don’t you just stay over there?”
My voice came out as high pitched and fearful, distorted by fangs and a too long, pointed tongue. I was trapped. Going back would be death. Fighting the snake would be death. Hell, once this adrenaline rush wore off, I would probably just collapse again. I was barely on my feet as it was.
The choice, however, was made for me when the snake lunged, mouth wide and fangs gleaming in the low light. I let out a girlish scream, and my muscles locked tight, terror filling my mind like cold poison. There was no way I could dodge, it was just too fast. Almost on instinct, I pulled on the one thing I could use.
My skill, a holdover from my time as a ghost activated, and the world seemed to blur for a moment. An energy I hadn’t even realized I had was expended in a single brief flare, and I saw the snake pass through me as if I wasn’t even there.
A wave of exhaustion rolled over me, and I stumbled, returning to reality. But it was enough. The snake was just behind me, hissing angrily and shaking its head at the unexpected miss. I whirled around to face it, seeing a single fang missing from its mouth from where it had crashed into the wall.
Terror once again welled up within me, but this time I managed to keep it at bay. Barely, just barely, but it was enough. I knew I had one chance to end this, one chance to live. I lunged forward and opened my mouth, screaming out my frustrations at the beast, hatred and anger and stress all swirling within me and bubbling to the surface in that single moment. The blow landed by some miracle of luck, penetrating its fur with a splurt of blood.
It struggled for a moment on the end of my blade, writhing and spitting. My impromptu vocalizations had prompted another surge of adrenaline, and still riding the high, I grabbed it by the head and tugged downwards. It’s guts spilled onto the floor and my feet. I panted for a moment longer, and then the struggles stopped. I could scarcely believe it, but it was over. I might still be trapped in fantasy, but this particular nightmare was gone.
You have slain [Northern Slithering Coal-belly], level 7.
Laughing unsteadily, I pulled the body into a hug dagger and all. It was warm, steaming in the cold air, and right now I just wanted something to clutch no matter how morbid. I probably looked insane, but who cares? There wasn’t anybody around to see me.
It was perhaps thirty minutes of intermittent crying and warming myself in the grossest of ways before I had the presence of mind too asses the outcome of the fight. Fortunately, I was no longer shivering and could think much more clearly. Unfortunately, It appeared my skill had some side effects. The cloak I was still wrapped up in had several giant holes burned through it that still smoldered with ghostly fire, and my dagger looked… droopy. Usable, but droopy.
Shaking my head in resignation, I decided to check my status. Maybe I had leveled up? If that was even a thing here.
As it turned out, I hadn’t. But I did have several important changes to my status. First off, I had a notification to look at.
Intentionally slaying a foe with no or minimal training has granted you the [Fighter (Wild)] path.
If that wasn’t good enough, the warmth had done wonders for my health, and it sat only a few points away from full. Furthermore, either the trek here or the fight itself had increased my fortitude and strength by one each. And to top it all off, I had essence! Seven of the stuff, apparently. It had to be something like experience points, right? It just made sense. Now that I was aware of it, I could even feel the essence as a sort of sharp sensation spread throughout my body. Not painful, but very clearly there. For a second I considered spending it directly on the fighter path, but I held off. If I wanted to survive, I needed to know everything I could about my status and how it worked. I wanted to see if it had other uses. However, I had no idea how to do anything else with it. Batting at the status screen proved completely ineffectual, as did shouting variations on “Level up!” and “Increase skill!”. Eventually, I decided to try a different tack.
I could vaguely remember what the mana had felt like when I had used [Phase], building up in my core and then being consumed in one brilliant flash of energy. I drew the essence in, attempting to emulate that feeling. Slowly, it built up, the sharpness traveling through my arms and feet before concentrating right next to my heart. I sat like this for several minutes, almost in a trance as I worked. And then, something clicked, a nearly half of the stuff vanished.
[Phase] advances from 1 to 2.
Well, that was something. Not quite what I wanted, but definitely something. It also proved that paths weren’t the only thing essence could be spent on. But there had to be more to it. With a deep breath, I drew the feeling in once again. But where previously I had focused only on a single point, now I tried to spread it, permeating the area around my core and forcing it to sink in. Once again, there was a clicking sensation as if the last piece of a puzzle had fallen into place, before a much smaller amount disappeared – less than a point.
Wyrd increases by 1 to 3.
The feeling of wyrd increasing was indefinable - a clanking and settling of something that wasn't really there. Shaking my head of the strange sensation, I reconsidered my status. I only had 3 essence left, and if possible I wanted to increase my fortitude over anything else. For where I was, it was just the most useful thing to have. The problem was I had been getting by on luck and guesswork so far, and had no idea of how to actually increase that stat. So, I was going to have to gamble on the one thing that seemed designed to take essence – my path.
Buzzing with excitement and curiosity, I sent a single point towards it. Unlike increasing my skills or stats, this was instinctual, much in the same way as using [Phase] was. I could also feel that it took exactly one point, whereas everything else had only taken rough amounts that I had no way of properly measuring. The essence gathered almost of its own accord, and then went racing towards my core. It stayed there for a second or two, and then exploded outwards, following strange paths and patterns on its journey throughout my body. I felt something shift, and then it abruptly disappeared into my muscles and scales and skin.
[Fighter (Wild)]: 1/10
Fortitude increases by 1 to 6.
I grinned toothily. That was exactly what I was hoping would happen. And now, I knew how to do it myself. I spent several minutes in intense concentration, carefully drawing the essence in the patterns I had seen the path take it on. Once I had it there, I pushed it into myself just like what the path had done. I frowned, feeling that my own efforts were far less efficient, the increase taking more than a point. With a start, I realized that I had gathered all of my essence, and the last of it vanished into fortitude. I was fairly certain the first increase hadn't taken half of my current pool, so it must cost more each time. Grimacing - the path would have been more efficient - I shrugged my shoulders in a resigned manner. That stuff was fused to my bones now, there was no way I was going to try to pull it out. Regardless, this was enough to push my health to a much safer 77/80, and my level up to 6; leading me to believe level was a function of stats instead of the other way around. Almost doubling my fortitude made a noticeable difference in how I felt as well. I could still feel the cold, as ever-present as always, but it was more distant – icy pins against my skin instead of daggers.
It had been a long day, and finally, my exhaustion caught up with me. I was warm, if gore-drenched, and safe, if relatively. Snuggling my snake-pillow a little closer as the sun drooped over the horizon, I closed my eyes to let sleep take me, content in the knowledge that I was just a little harder to kill than before. I dreamt of cold winters and warm fires back on earth, and although the occasional monster stalked my nightmares, this my first time actually sleeping since I had died. No shadows could keep me from making the most of it.
~~~
Several hours from where Eve slept, within another cave in the cliff-face, stood a massive crystal of ice. Surrounding this crystal was smooth rock patterned with blood and salt in intricate circles of swirling lines, spread throughout the entirety of the room. A ritual, and it was only missing a few pieces.
Pieces that should have been here hours ago, thought the woman trapped inside the ice. The Elverin brothers were expensive, yes, but they were nothing if not reliable. She had been working for years to free herself from this prison for YEARS, and they had not failed her once. Except, on this last shipment, they were late.
Most people could not have even survived the crystal she was trapped in, devoid of heat and air. But her undead flesh had long given up such paltry concerns. Although she was no longer among the living, it could not be said that she was some gangly zombie, however. Her form was voluptuous, almost motherly, with milk-white skin covered in flowing blue robes. The image was only marred by her face, frozen in an expression of shock.
Shock that, for a moment, mirrored her real emotions as she felt a ping from the long-forgotten wards around her laboratory. Someone had just stumbled right into the antechamber of her workplace.