That night was spent in restful slumber. Wrapped up in his new hide cloak, warm.
Warm.
He'd not slept well before. Sure, his Vitality meant he was not physiologically affected by the mild temperate. Neither had it yet rained, but there was something, something, about curling up into a warm coat and drifting off to Morpheus. Some phycological impulse - a feeling of home - stopping his rest from merely being the result of a broken, overworked body.
He woke that morning not to the fearsome image of a coiled snake, nor the fear of any other deadly, malicious beast, but to peace. He woke to sunlight, to joy, and the twitter of birds announcing that day had finally come.
Fear, he knew, gripped him no more.
His spear slipped into his grip; the cloak draped across his back. His now natural observations saw nothing - not of interest, at least - before he leveraged himself to the floor, and trudged off to a yet unexplored distance.
The system - as he had quickly taken to calling it - had given him very little information at all. Vague murmurings of a tutorial he knew he likely now existed in, followed by ominously threatening descriptions of oblivion, should he not fulfil their cryptic requirements.
The Tribe of the Lost Orcs.
Frustratingly vague. Giving neither direction nor description of what exactly it was that he was meant to pursue. Dungeon he understood, childhood memories of brief gaming stints quickly given up on, never really scratching the itch he felt buried in his mind.
Dungeon. Would it be a location defined by an official boundary and recognised as such by the system? The use of capitalisation in the original notification suggested as such, but in truth, Alex held no confidence in his understanding of this new agent of destiny.
He pattered along, following trails he did not recognise from earlier travels for a better part of the morning. He had not encountered much at all, the occasional foolish woodland animal, barely capable of withstanding a single, light strike before crumpling in defeat. As the sun raised above his head, gentle beams of light shining upon the vegetation surrounding him, he knew he had gone further from his camp - his original placement - than ever before. He gave a rue smile; prepared himself.
Karma, after all, dictated that such a thus far pleasant day could only go astray.
Nothing. He stood there, spear shaft gripped tightly as his eyes dug into the greenery, searching for what he knew would be there. Lurking in the bushes, ready to lunge at any shown weakness
Nothing.
He relaxed, tension leaving strained shoulders as his pale knuckles gained back their colour, softening his grip around the wooden shaft.
He took two steps forward, and a series of dings lit up in his mind, one far more prevalent than the others.
Danger Sense, once again saving him from what had been an inevitable death.
He threw himself to the ground, dirt flying around him as his violent descent ended in a sudden, flailing stop.
A figure threw itself over him; the size of a large dog, launching itself from the greenery that Alex had - only moments ago - been sure contained some nefarious presence, yet had not bothered to check.
Lazy.
Arrogant.
All manners of stupidity, but he hadn't the time to berate himself, not yet.
He lunged forwards, only one hand gripping the spear, thrusting it forward as he sought to unbowel his assailant; his left hand flailing outwards, desperately seeking the balance needed for a killing blow.
His spear was barely halfway to his foe before the weight on his back sent him crashing to the floor, vicious claws attempting to rip through his innards, only turned away by the Warlord's Cloak now adorning his back.
Fuck.
There were two adversaries - at least -and Alex had little hope if they managed to keep him between them, dividing his attention and exploiting whatever blind spots would inevitably appear.
Alex twisted away, sweeping his spear against the newest creature, not in hopes to kill, nor even injure it, but instead pushing himself away, framing his body to the side, desperately seeking to place both beasts in his line of sight.
He took this brief moment - as the creatures re-adjusted their position, shifting their weight forward to prepare for another attack - to evaluate the new threats, and quickly skim through the notifications he had been ignoring in favour of survival.
You have entered the Dungeon: Den of Wolves. Due to the average level of inhabiting combatants, it is suggested that you immediately seek exit.
Great. I'm in over my head.
A second thought quickly followed.
This isn't even the right Dungeon, either.
Congratulations, for a series of astute observations, you have gained the Skill: Identify 1.
Identify 1 - Commonly earnt by children, in pursuit of edible perishables, this skill allows you to Identify basic fauna; the basic descriptions of most encountered combatants, and the levels of any under your own.
Hunting Wolf - Level 11.
Bringing back the majority of food needed for the sustenance of the larger pack, the Hunting Wolf plays a necessary part in the larger ecosystem.
Hunting Wolf - Level 12.
Bringing back the majority of food needed for the sustenance of the larger pack, the Hunting Wolf plays a necessary part in the larger ecosystem.
They were higher levelled than he was, but both wolves were significantly weaker than the wolf he had faced just the day before. The issue then, lay in their multiplicity. Being unable to focus on one foe without intervention from the other would decrease the number of significant strikes he could land, for many of them required commitment, which he could not afford to spend without presenting his back to the jaws of the other wolf.
Fast strikes, shallow and quick, never committing to a blow that could throw off his balance or hamper his mobility. Alex would play a game of attrition and hope he could land enough blood-letting strikes before they could catch him with a significantly larger one, tying him down.
He snapped his spear forward - again one-handed - catching the frontmost wolf mid-air, leaving a shallow slice that, were this to be the only wound the wolf was to receive the entire battle, would leave no permanent impact but a slight scar on its cheek.
What it successfully managed, however, was to throw the wolf's head upwards, diverging a fearsome lunge into an ineffective leap. Alex struck again, two shallow blows onto the apparent stomach of the now belly-up beast before he was forced to disengage, tip-toeing away as its partner unleashed its attack.
This time alerted by a short, deep growl, Alex braced himself, digging the spear shaft into the dirt till it would go no further in, and allowing the wolf and his already determined flight path to skewer itself upon a foot of spear.
The notification rang, and Alex was forced to push the wolf's warm, bloody carcass of the spearhead before throwing himself forward. Straight beneath the wounded, airborne creature still alive. Carving his spear through the wolf's intestines, and ripping from its stomach lining. Allowing organs to slip through the wide wound.
Alex withdrew his spear, pushed into relaxed, gentle breath by the notification - announcing his dead foe's departure - and cleaned his blood-covered spear off in the leaves of a nearby tree.
He checked the surrounding bushes - after all, it would not do to be ambushed again - before ascending the tallest tree in the local vicinity; crouching in the shade of its wide, flat leaves.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Congratulations, you have killed a Level 11 Hunting Wolf. For killing a Beast above your level, you have gained bonus experience.
Congratulations, you have killed a Level 12 Hunting Wolf. For killing a Beast above your level, you have gained bonus experience.
You have levelled up.
You are now Level 10.
Congratulations, for reaching Level 10, you have gained the ability to start developing your Core. Consisting of condensed Mana, your core allows you to perform free-form magic, not needing the pre-made structures provided in the acquisition of Skills. Dependent on your control, this may be far more inefficient than simply channelling your Mana through officially formulated spells.
To begin the development of your Core, you must align condensed Mana in your foundation to an Identity. The closer the match your Core's Identity is to your internal alignment, the greater your Affinities for relevant Elements become.
Good luck, Alex.
He shoved all free-points into Agility and raced back to his base tree. He would not take the risk of beginning what was very likely to be a long, arduous and possibly dangerous procedure whilst in the middle of hostile territory, barely covered, and easily revealed should he make the slightest of noises in the presence of another wolf.
You have left the Dungeon: Den of Wolves.
He scampered to the top of his tree, gave his usual perfunctory look for danger and settled in to think.
Status Name: Alexander Aeotos Level: 10 (+1) Health: 242/310 Stamina: 198/535 Mana: 340/340 Strength: 49 Agility: 58 (+6) Vitality: 31 Intelligence: 34 Wisdom: 23 Charisma: 24 General Skills: Danger Sense 1: Level 4 (+1) - Creates a small possibility to detect imminent or possible danger, even when otherwise unknowable. Possibility will both increase and grow more accurate with levels. Primary Class: None Primary Class Skills: Secondary Class: None Secondary Class Skills: Tertiary Class: None Tertiary Class Skills: Traits: Fates Favour - Chance-based events are slightly more likely to go in your favour. Whether that be increased Rewards, or a lesser chance to pull the wrong card at a Blackjack table, it matters not. Titles: Forerunner 2: Gained only by those at the epoch of their race, they strive forwards, as masters of their destiny. +5 All Attributes. Free Points: 0 Core: Unformed
Actual magic then.
He had hoped - assumed even - that something along the lines of magic existed. The existence of Mana in his Status suggested as such. Yet to hear it aloud, to know that his access to the arcane was only a matter of time and effort away. That was different.
He's hoped once - in the way all children not-so-secretly do - that magic would one day come to him. He'd spent years reading badly-written fantasy books; daydreaming of it being him, but he'd known that in truth, it was never to be.
That had now changed.
Core: Unformed. The system had spoken of an Identity. What that was, he had no idea.
What he did notice however, as he sat - cross-legged, eyes closed - trying to feel for whatever Mana it was that he needed to condense, was a series of strange, almost unnoticeable twitches across his body. Tingles of what he could only assume - and desperately hope - was Mana.
He spent the next few hours, as morning settled to noon, attempting to awkwardly grab such tingles. Haphazardly pull them together and force them to his stomach.
Congratulations, through long, concentrated effort, you have learnt to affect the Mana possessing your body. You have gained the Skill: Mana Manipulation.
Mana Manipulation: Improves your ability to control internally control Mana. Speed and precision will improve with Levels.
Alex smiled softly. He knew he was, at the very least, making strides in the right direction.
XOX
He now knew how - if barely - to force the Mana together, entwining the strands into one, and slipping them downwards to his stomach.
Next, assigning an Identity.
Identity. An object? An idea? Or even just a concept?
He began with what was the most common idea in all of magical literature. Fire.
An hour was spent sitting, desperately holding entwined Mana strings as he dwelled on its concept. Repeating everything he knew of it, from physics to chemistry and all in between.
Heat. Combustion. The consumption of oxygen.
Another hour of fruitless time passed, before he thought of something else. Philosophical Ideas. Poetry. Symbolism.
Legends.
He thought of fire, brought to man as a gift. Clever, gentle Prometheus, who brought them a chance at life in the darkest of times, at the expense of himself. He thought of sacrifice and pain.
Alex thought of hope.
Congratulations. You have grasped the Identity of Fire. Alignment: Mediocre. Do you wish to accept this Identity?
Warning - Once an Identity is selected, it cannot be changed.
Alex frowned. If such as thing was permanent, as the prompt suggested then he did not want to settle for what the system itself described as a mediocre alignment. It was likely that magic would be a major source of his strength, and he did not want to lessen his chances of survival with a bad match.
He turned it down.
XOX
The day passed, and he'd tried nearly everything. From the basic physical elements to the philosophical abstractions of light and dark. The best match he'd had thus far was Air - Strong, and something about that just seemed... lacking. It was close, but just not quite enough.
So, Alex thought, perhaps an abstraction. A sidewards shift, rather than a whole new idea.
He tried Gas - Low, and Mist - Mediocre. Before trying every gaseous element from the periodic table, and constantly coming up short.
He frowned, he was beginning to slow, he knew less and less about every abstraction, and they constantly took longer to materialise; before inevitably showing failure.
He stood, muscles aching from a long period of sedentary, leaning from his shelter, swaying in the warm summer wind.
Wind.
He sat immediately. Ignoring aching bones as his drop made a loud, sudden thud as he slammed against the wood.
Wind. Ever moving, never stationary. The constant transference of energy as it constantly shifter position and temperature. Fluidity. Change.
Congratulations. You have grasped the Identity of the Wind. Alignment: Very Strong. Do you wish to accept this Identity?
Warning - Once an Identity is selected, it cannot be changed.
Alex sighed. Closer. Yet even now he felt like he held in his hands, only half of the greater whole.
He lay down, after all, tomorrow was another day.
XOX
He woke to rain. The first time since his miraculous arrival, and it was no gentle event.
Soaking everything for a hundred miles, as fierce winds bellowed through the trees, and distant thunder struck the ground, ravaging all it touched.
A storm of epic proportions, brutalising all it touched. Fierce and erratic, always in a state of flux, never stagnant. Existing in a constant war with all it touched. A force of nature, never to be touched, but merely gazed at from afar. It was creation and death; change and an ever eternal beauty.
It was lightning, wind, and wrath.
Congratulations. You have grasped the Identity of the Storm. Alignment: Perfect. Do you wish to accept this Identity?
Warning - Once an Identity is selected, it cannot be changed.
The notification shocked Alex from his distant awe. He read the notification. Read it again; gave a rue smile.
Lightning and Wind and Wrath.
The Storm.
He accepted, and all else was but dust in the wind.
Status Name: Alexander Aeotos Level: 10 Health: 310/310 Stamina: 530/535 Mana: 82/340 Strength: 49 Agility: 58 Vitality: 31 Intelligence: 34 Wisdom: 23 Charisma: 24 General Skills: Danger Sense I: Level 4 - Creates a small possibility to detect imminent or possible danger, even when otherwise unknowable. Possibility will both increase and grow more accurate with levels. Mana Manipulation: Level 4 (+4) - Improves your ability to control internally control Mana. Speed and precision will improve with Levels. Primary Class: None Primary Class Skills: Secondary Class: None Secondary Class Skills: Tertiary Class: None Tertiary Class Skills: Traits: Fates Favour - Chance-based events are slightly more likely to go in your favour. Whether that be increased Rewards, or a lesser chance to pull the wrong card at a Blackjack table, it matters not. Titles: Forerunner II: Gained only by those at the epoch of their race, they strive forwards, as masters of their destiny. +5 All Attributes. Free Points: 0 Core Identity: Storm Core Stage: Formation I Elemental Alignments: Lightning - 97