System integration beginning.
Calculating comparative traits…error. Historic data missing.
Collecting data from short term memory…Complete.
Integration of average historic physical and mental state complete. Permanence assigned.
Status:
Ancestry: Human (unevolved)
Level: 1
Class: None
Titles: God-touched
Attribute allocation:
Strength: 7
Agility: 5
Endurance: 9
Perception: 9
Cognition: 8
Available attributes: 0
Skills: None
I blinked and refocused, looking back to Jorge as he complained bitterly to the other two about “useless kids”.
“What the hell was all that?” I asked Jorge with more heat than he probably deserved.
He turned back to me and ushered his two companions through the heavy door they had shunted open, presumably while I stared at nothing with a slack jaw upon discovering my status. “I’ll explain as we go – move!”
He shoved me forwards in front of him, closing the door behind himself and shoving an old metal candle stick between the handle and the door frame. He shoved me again as he turned and I started stumbling up the rough stone corridor after Nathlan. Vera was already gone from sight, doing god knows what.
“The essence of it is that an unknown amount of time ago, the gods – not sure which ones or why – got together and created a system to govern our world. The going theory is that its a way to raise strong warriors to join them in some heavenly battle against each other but we have no confirmation. Every adult has a status, gains skills and attributes and generally grows stronger through levelling. What’s your endurance?”
The question caught me by surprise as I was trying fit this new knowledge into my existing framework of how the world worked. It wasn’t going well, and many of my foundational beliefs about reality were making it very difficult for this particular kernel of knowledge to fit. “eerrr 9 I think?”
Jorge whistled in response. “That’s pretty high for level 1. Good, you’ll need it for the next few bells. We’ll be moving without rest for a while.” The tunnel was at a slight angle and the floor was rough and unpaved, with occasional depressions which made keeping my footing in the low light difficult as we strode ever upwards.
We trudged on in silence for an indeterminable amount of time. I kept opening my mouth to ask various questions burning in my mind but stopped myself each time. I couldn’t process this all, couldn’t think what I wanted answered first. I kept turning over my recent memories, trying to pinpoint the last thing I remembered before waking up in that chapel below.
It was…hazy. I still knew who I was, had a biographical narrative of my life up to this point, knew my name, my family, my friends and my loves and hates and everything in between that made me, well me…but it felt disconnected somehow, and every attempt I made to focus on those memories was like dipping my hand into a pond and trying to hold the water. I could view them, experience the richness of that life for a few seconds but inevitably the sensations and feeling slipped through the gaps in my mind and I returned to the present.
I caught my foot on a stray rock for what must have been the fiftieth time during our short hike, shooting my leading leg out to catch my balance and continuing on without breaking stride. My spiralling thoughts were interrupted by a ringing inside my head, demanding my attention.
Skill gained – Sure-footed. Open skill slots available, skill integrated.
The mere act of questioning what this meant encouraged a torrent of new information to present itself to me.
Current skills:
Sure-footed: Level 1.
Open skill slot
Open skill slot
Open skill slot
Open skill slot
Open skill slot
Open skill slot
Open skill slot
I focused on the new skill itself and received further knowledge direct to my mind without the need to read or listen or comprehend actively in any way.
Sure-footed – Passive. You have a strong sense of balance when moving, able to keep your centre of gravity stable and keep to your feet over rough terrain without thought. Further levels improve upon this unconscious feel for your body and can guide your foot placement without thought.
I instantly felt myself gain confidence as I strode, finding more advantageous footing. It was only a mild increase – I had always been good on my feet from a childhood spent playing in the hills – but now that I was laser focused in on my footwork, I could feel the difference this skill granted. I tried to examine exactly how the skill was influencing me, but I couldn’t distinguish between the instincts granted by the skill or by my own experience.
My musings were interrupted by a door up ahead, which Nathlan ducked through quickly. I followed, stooping low to avoid banging my head on the low roof as I emerged into a wooden tunnel, the smell of burning hanging in the air like a thousand matches lit nearby only minutes before. Vera stood by the door, nodding again to Jorge as he entered last.
“This tunnel leads to the main hall we entered before, emerging a few meters up the wall I’d guess. Should be a few minutes, maybe double that with Nathlan and the runt.”
“Good. And the smell?” He replied in his gruff, no-nonsense manner.
“Cobwebs – seems to be a disused storage tunnel, and nobody has cleaned for a while. Chock full of them but nothing serious. I burnt most of them away but had to leave a few ‘wise air would get tight.” Jorge nodded at that and gestured her forwards, Nathlan peeling off after her. I looked to him before heading out at a jog behind the wizard, hearing the strangely comforting sound of footfalls behind me from solid leather boots.
I found it surprisingly difficult to keep to a steady jog while slightly stooped, a problem I noticed Jorge didn’t share when I looked back. His head didn’t reach the ceiling, and for the first time I realised he must be a fair bit shorter than me. Both Nathlan and Vera were taller, and Vera out-massed me by a fair bit too, not even accounting for the difference between her heavily muscled frame and my somewhat softer appearance. A lifetime of exercise in the great outdoors had left me with a relatively broad frame and a decent amount of muscle and power, as my strength and endurance stats could apparently attest to, but my sedentary lifestyle had ensured I couldn’t even be compared to the woman leading us through the twisting corridor ahead.
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After what I assumed to be around 10 minutes, from the lack of burning in my legs but slight ache in my neck from constant ducking, we slowed to a halt as Vera fiddled with a small hatch. After a few more moments and some quiet cursing, she took a step back and kicked forwards. The wooden hatch exploded outwards, slivers of wood raining to the floor several meters below.
Vera shimmied through the newly created gap and dropped to the floor without hesitation, while Nathlan slipped down onto his belly before lowering himself down to drop the last meter to the floor. I copied his motion and looked up as I fell to see Jorge step casually over me, landing further into the hall with barely a bend in his knees.
I dusted away the stray cobwebs sticking to the back of my cloak and hurried along after the three as they strode through the grand hallway and to a large pair of double doors at the end of the hall. Levering one open, Jorge beckoned us through, and we slipped past, emerging onto the side of a mountain.
No great pillars of stone lined the entrance, and no detailed stonework was present to awe visitors, but that was perhaps a wise choice, for nothing wrought by human hands could complete with the grand view before us.
A small goat-track cut through the slope of steep rocky scree below us, and zig-zagged down towards a wide valley. This valley jutted straight towards the flat plains in the distance, but my sense of scale was thrown by everything before me. The ridges that lined the valley appeared far more jagged than I would expect from a simple ridgeline, and the snow capping the odd peak suggested they were far higher than I had originally thought.
I also couldn’t make out any trees that lined the small river weaving its way towards the plains. The valley basin was covered in a dense forest of green, but I couldn’t discern any detail from this height. I spied a waterfall off a few hundred meters to my right, and traced its path down towards the valley, losing it as it flowed into the tree-line. The scale of the valley before me truly hit me then.
The small stream flowing though the valley’s centre was in fact a great river, dozens if not hundreds of meters wide. The valley itself must have been a few miles wide at the base at the least, and I couldn’t begin to guess at how high the ridges on either side must have been, but I felt thousands of meters was being conservative.
I glanced at Jorge in wonder and asked with trepidation; “Where are we?”
He turned to me, taking in the awe on my face before shaking his head “Not sure why the low hills have got your heart in a vice, but there ain’t no accounting for taste I suppose.” He chuckled as my face twitched when he described the deep mountain vista before me as ‘the low hills’, but answered my question all the same.
“Near the base of the Unclaimed Peaks. The plains are a few hundred miles that way.” He pointed down the titanic valley, gesturing as if I could see anything beyond the haze of ridgelines and valleys below. “About a week’s hard march at our pace – likely to take you a few if you were alone. The terrain can be tricky and there are a few powerful predators in the area. As I said, no problem for us but you’d have to keep a solid watch unless you want a nasty surprise at night.”
Vera snorted at that, but didn’t expand upon what she found funny about his statement. Jorge took on a lecturing tone as he pointed out a few landmarks to me as we stood before that beautiful vista.
“Y’see that peak halfway down the ridgeline on the right? Shaped like a great hoof?” I squinted and shook my head uncertainly.
“Ah, ain’t got the eyes for it yet have you? No matter. Well anyhow that’s Cloven Rock – marks the point at which the central river spreads into a thousand tributaries, turning the valley floor into Marshes up ahead. It’s a subtle transition, and one you’re unlikely to notice until you get a day or so in, as the trees don’t start changing immediately. Cloven Rock is our sign to get higher onto the valley slopes. There should be a few solid trails for us to follow for the next few days till we ascend to the ridgeline itself.”
“We’re aiming for The Gap I think its called? It’s a point not far from the flatlands, can’t see that either with your perception I suppose, but its there none the less. A breach in the ridgeline, only a thousand or so meters up from the valley floor. Happens to be the least contested entrance from one valley to the next, and it’s a constant battleground. Not quite sure what the scholar’s explanation is for it – ask Nathlan if you’re interested – but for some reason there’s always conflict there between denizens of the next valley over, and this one here. Might be a territorial thing? Not sure where the buggers come from as there must be a few dozen killings every day but hey, not our problem.”
I was struggling to keep track of what he was saying, but the directions – if you could call them that – were simple and so I committed to memorising them as best I could.
“So we descend from the ridgeline just before The Gap, either clear a path through or just skirt around, then it’s a day’s travel along the riverbank before you hit the closest trading post. We’ll stop there for a night or two and restock before heading on to Storm’s Harbour.”
He clapped me on the back in what was no doubt meant as a comforting gesture, but he nearly knocked me off the ledge we stood on and straight down to the path below. Only my steady feet, no doubt enhanced by Sure-footed, managed to save me from another painful fall.
Almost at the same moment, Nathlan swore. “My outer ward just went dark.”
Jorge whipped his head towards the wizard and a rapid-fire exchange occurred between the three companions. “What do we know?”
“Nothing, whoever it was left no trace or feedback at all - they know what they’re doing.”
“And your secondary?”
“Still holding for now at least.” Nathlan replied, and Jorge hummed in acknowledgement.
A moment later, the scholar spoke again, his tone strained; “Wait, its gone too.”
Jorge cursed then as well. “Fuck! That gives us what, half a bell?”
“Yes I believe so, assuming that’s their full pace and they’ve not slowed to throw us off. We need to leave.” Jorge nodded at that and turned to Vera. “Trap it, you’ve got as long as it takes me to sort out the runt here then we’re leaving. Nathlan, head out now – we’ll catch you up. Head for the left-hand ridge.”
Nathlan set off at a run, and I realised that while he may be the slowest of the three, that did not mean I was his equal. He took off down the thin winding goat-track faster than I could match at a dead sprint, and his gate and easy breathing seemed to suggest he planned to keep that up for at least the next few miles till he reached the ridge line on our left.
Vera meanwhile strode back inside the entrance hall we had just emerged from while pulling a chisel and small hammer from the various pouches strapped about her armour. I was curious about what she was doing but had no time to investigate before I felt Jorge’s hand clap down onto my shoulder again and twirl me round to face him.
I nearly backed-up at the grim visage before me. Gone were the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes and the cheery tilt to his lips that I had never consciously noticed until they were missing, and now I keenly felt their absence. Whereas before I had always got the impression of being in on a joke and completely at ease – which now that I thought about it was a bit worrying considering I knew nothing of the man – now I felt like I was truly seeing him for the stranger he was. This was a dangerous man, and he was completely focused on me.
A light tap to my cheek brought my focus back to him. “Listen lad, this is gonna get ugly. Someone is coming for us, and while they might not be looking for you explicitly, your presence will raise some questions which they will be forced to investigate further. Once they do, you’ll be dragged away in irons if you’re lucky, and killed outright if you’re not. Even in the lucky version, you don’t come out smelling like roses if you catch my meaning.”
A slow breath out and he continued, “Good news is I reckon we can take ‘em. Tenacious bastards they may be, but I like our chances. I don’t like our chances trying to keep you safe while we lose ‘em though. Best plan I can think of right now is to leave you here and draw them far enough away that you’re out the picture by the time we sort ‘em out, right?”
“Bad news is that leaves you alone. Out here at the foot of the mountains, you’re as good as dead. The creatures that live here are far too powerful for you right now, and so you’re gonna have to run like the fucking wind down towards that trading post – the closer to the plans you get, the less danger you’ll be in. You got a solid memory of those landmarks I mentioned yeah?”
At my nod, he continued. “Then listen, we’ll take you down the track to that ridgeline on your right, then we’re dropping you and you head straight down to the col, then down to the valley. Get into the trees and stay near the river till you reach the Cloven Rock. I wish I had more time to prepare you for something like this but life ain’t fair is it?”
Into one hand he pressed a small pebble. It was entirely smooth except for a delicately engraved looping mark scratched into one side, and it fit snugly into the palm of my hand. “Rune of fire-lighting, courtesy of Vera. Not much power to it but should be enough to get a small fire going if you’re smart about it.” Into my other hand he pressed the handle of a short, unadorned knife. “This won’t do you much good as a weapon but it’s better than nothing right? I’d use that to cut your meat up but who fucking knows – this is up to you now lad.”
He looked at me seriously again before calling over his shoulder to Vera. He then turned back to give me a grim nod. “Get yourself to that trading outpost in one piece, we’ll meet you there. It won’t be fun, and I’m sorry to drop you in this, but sink or swim, right?”
The older man then reached out and hauled me over one shoulder like I weighed no more than a bag of flour. Vera slipped through the door and came up alongside him, and before I could begin to protest that it couldn’t possibly be faster to fireman’s carry me down a god-damned mountain, they were off.
The breath left my lungs at his first step, as his shoulder slammed into my diaphragm like a speeding train. The next few minutes were some of the most uncomfortable of my life, and I was sure to have bruises forming all along my side. My ribs felt battered and delicate as I was unceremoniously dumped to the floor.
Jorge looked apologetic and I was gearing myself up for tirade of complaints when I looked past him and towards the mountain path we had just flown down. It was distant and I couldn’t even make out the entrance to the cavernous hall, despite its front door being at least 3 meters in height and double that in width.
I begrudgingly admitted to myself that they may have been correct to carry me, but I was still feeling too sore and squishy to say anything to that affect. Vera gave me that surprisingly tender look again which told me she knew exactly how I was feeling, but then the steel returned to her gaze, and she turned away. Jorge gave me a hand up and looked me in the eyes one last time.
“If you can hit level 15, then you’ve got a better chance. Visualise your progress and create a representation of it – past and future – In your mind. Until then, work on your skills, and don’t fucking die.”
And with those final, encouraging words, the two warriors sped off back up the track, retracing their steps and heading to the opposite ridge to lead away an unknown enemy.