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Metempsychosis
Chapter 12 (Can I polish your rock?)

Chapter 12 (Can I polish your rock?)

Chapter 12

(Can I polish your rock?)

"Ugh…" Jarow moaned as she opened her eyes, finding herself lying face down on the floor this time rather than on her back. As her mind slowly reawakened, she wondered to herself, "Who am I this time?" Her back ached, seemingly from an awkward sleeping position, and her face felt sore from being pressed against the floor. Overall, she was in a considerable amount of discomfort.

Bringing her arms to her sides, she pushed up and lifted her body from the floor, once again finding herself naked and alone in an all too familiar room. "No boobs? Yay, I guess?" Jarow mentally remarked as he brought his body into a sitting position and placing his back against the wall.

His new view in this new body also presented a new perspective, with the door appearing taller than he remembered it being from his last body. Lowering his gaze, he began to take in his new form, but before he even began to look down, his vision was obscured by an impressively full, long, yet strangely soft beard. It was intricately braided; a large braid in the middle looking as though it consisted of three smaller braids woven together, with an additional two, slightly thinner and shorter side braids running along each side of the thick main braid. These side braids featured multiple metal rings woven within them, each containing different-colored jewels attached to the rings, with each ring sitting just below the next to avoid interaction between them.

His beard was definitely impressive but kept him from really seeing who he was underneath, so Jarow decided to let his hands do the seeing for him. He reached upward first, starting with his head, touching the area with his rough fingers, feeling it as a way to discover what he looked like.

He found on top of his head a smooth surface devoid of hair, in fact it felt as smooth as if it had been freshly shaven. The skin there felt thick and weathered and as his hands roamed, he found several creases in the rear along with a sizable mole behind his right ear.

Moving his hands downward from his head to touch his face, he felt large, bushy eyebrows which brought an image to his imagination of large caterpillars. In his mind he saw them sitting above his eyes where their long hairs partially obstructed his vision. It was a silly thought, but it was what his mind conjured to visualize what the bushy brows must look like as they sat, sticking out from over his eyes.

A small smile touched Jarow’s lips at the thought, but he moved on, continuing his finger’s visual tracing of his new form. His knobby fingers continued their journey, taking in the somewhat large, bulbous nose and deeply lined, yet surprisingly thick skin surrounding his eyes.

There wasn’t much other skin exposed on his face; his beard started high on his cheeks and was tightly woven, so he lightly skimmed over the top of it to touch his lips, they felt slightly engorged as his body pumped blood there to assist in healing itself, the pressure of lying face down on them causing the slightest bit of damage. Opening his mouth, he explored his teeth, which felt slightly smaller than he expected to feel but otherwise in good shape.

His hands continued their exploration, feeling the contours and silkiness of the intricate braids of his beard which began to form their weave just under his bottom lip. Then, sliding his hands underneath at neck level, Jarow felt a large, wide, hairy barrel chest beneath the large gray braids; he clearly felt there was a lack of anything resembling an actual neck.

From there, he slid his hands over his sizable gut. Unlike the flabby stomach in his first human body, this one was solid, as if the muscles underneath pressed outward rather than contracting to form tight, structured abdominal muscles like he had in his last body.

Although this body might appear fat from its roundness, it felt almost as hard and muscular as his orc body had been, only in a different, more protruding fashion.

At this point in his touch-visualization of his new body, Jarow stood up, but didn’t feel much taller than he did while sitting. He did this so that he could inspect the lower parts of his body, which were still obscured from his vision due to his massive beard which extended down past his stomach.

He used his small, gnarled hands with their stumpy, rough fingers to feel down his legs and what hung in between. His hands found a girthful but somewhat short appendage attached to two huge stones knocking together between his knees. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to walk properly with those things hanging so low.

Continuing to feel, he leaned over while moving his hands downward and could take in the last part of his legs which were incredibly short and stumpy. He saw and felt along, noticing his legs were also hard and thick like short tree stumps, ending in wide, flat feet with short toes and no space in between them.

Dwarf: the word suddenly echoed through Jarow’s mind. He opened up his character sheet to verify, but before he could, a holographic blue notification window appeared.

Congratulations! You have achieved level 3! You have 5 attribute points to distribute. You have 1 new skill to choose. You have 1 new ability to choose.

Congratulations! You have achieved level 4! You have 5 attribute points to distribute. You have 1 new skill to choose. You have 1 new ability to choose.

A wide grin crossed Jarow’s face. “Two levels, nice! Those bastards must have been worth a lot of XP.” he thought as he dismissed the notification window and opened his character sheet.

Name: Jarow

Level: [- 4 -]

Age: 187 (current)

Race: Dwarf (current)

Gender: Male (current)

Attributes: (current)

Strength [- 7 -] (+1 racial bonus)

Dexterity [- 4 -] (-1 racial disadvantage)

Constitution [- 9 -] (+4 racial bonus)

Intelligence [- 3 -]

Wisdom [- 4 -] (+1 racial bonus)

Charisma [- 5 -]

Available attributes points to distribute [- 10 -]

Skills:

Sneak Intermediate (racial skill *)

Pick Beginner (racial skill *)

Hammer Beginner (racial skill *)

Dagger Beginner

Sword Intermediate

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Abilities:

Berserk Buff +[- 2 -] Increase to Strength +[- 2 -] Increase to Constitution - +20 HP per level added to max HP **

Minor Heal 6 HP 2+4 (Charisma bonus)

Power Blow Increase to hit chance 20% - Increase to damage 20% - Increase to critical hit chance 20%

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Jarow had been correct; he was now in a dwarven body, although he was shocked at his body’s age. This body had lived over two normal human lives but felt like it was still in peak condition.

He actually didn’t know if this was truly peak condition for a dwarf, but his body didn’t hurt and didn’t feel old; which meant peak to him.

He also noticed his two new available slots for skills and abilities. He knew better than to distribute attribute points before choosing new powers, so he decided he needed to wait for Xinpo to appear as he had done last time jarow had died, and discuss the available options with him before moving on. Jarow skimmed through the options while he drummed his fingers on the floor, waiting for Xinpo to appear.

Minutes passed, and still, Xinpo hadn’t returned. Becoming impatient, Jarow decided to investigate the two new racial skills he’d gained. He focused on the star to the right of the skill, and an information window appeared.

Dwarves, by nature, possess an innate understanding of stone, metal, and jewels. This intrinsic knowledge is deeply rooted in their heritage of dwelling underground, often beneath massive mountains. The use of a pick and hammer, fundamental tools for any dwarf, is second nature to them. What sets this knowledge apart is that it has become so ingrained in the dwarven DNA that it is passed down as an inherited trait from generation to generation. This hereditary aspect of their craftsmanship contributes to the dwarves' exceptional skills in working with materials found within the earth, making them masters of stonework, metalcraft, and gem-related endeavors.

He was surprised to see the term "DNA" attributed to a race that he felt was merely a fantastical one. Although, to be fair, he had just died as a female Orc, so fantasy and anything he felt was magical more than logical had flown out that window long ago.

He could sense there was more information available if he wanted to access it, but for now, he was satisfied with the general description and closed the smaller window before going back to exploring his character sheet.

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He had two additional skill slots to fill as well as two ability slots and he wanted to be familiar with his options for when Xinpo arrived, so he focused on the available skills list. As he did so, a menu window appeared with his options listed.

[Please choose from the available skills]

Weapon (general) - Shield - Parry - Dash - Leap - Hide - Aim - Concentration - Equilibrium - Stability - Ambidexterity - Sleight of Hand - Herbology - Geology - Chemistry - Harvesting - Skinning - Animal Handling - Arcana - Medicine - Hacking - Mining - Lumbercraft - Cooking - Pottery - Welding - Juggling - Dancing - Evasion - Meditation - Programming - Multi-tasking

Jarow was a bit overwhelmed by the multitude of available skills. He recognized the first part of the list as being the same as those available from his last level gain. There were plenty of new options available now, though, which seemed to range from basic survival skills to working with computers, which seemed extremely out of place here.

Internally, he knew what the word "computer" meant and what a computer was, but beyond that basic understanding, he had no context or knowledge. He was tempted to choose one of the skills associated with technology just to find out what knowledge would accompany the skill. However, he really had no use for it in this hallway and couldn’t justify using one of the valuable slots just to see what would happen.

There were also skills like cooking and pottery, which also made no sense in this place. Not only was there nothing here he could cook, but he didn’t need to eat or store things either. The fact that they were options did hint to there being places where said skills would come in handy though, which gave him a bit of hope for an eventual escape.

However, a few of them did catch his eye. The more athletic ones, such as "leap" and "dash," could be very valuable, especially when it was time for him to do any more fighting. There were also the "multi-tasking" and "concentration" skills, which made him wonder if they could somehow work in combination.

He really wanted to ask Xinpo some questions and get some ideas from him. He knew it hadn’t taken this long for Xinpo to return after he had died last time, and he was beginning to get worried. To keep his mind occupied and to do something productive rather than worry, he closed the skills menu and moved on to the abilities options to see what new choices awaited him there.

[Please choose from one of the available abilities]

Shield Bash - Power Swing - Combat Reflexes - Resist - Taunt - Backstab - Control - Prestidigitation - Minor Illusion - Mage Hand - Ignite - Throw - Tame - Elemental Resistance - Heal - Identify - Darkvision - Add Elemental Property (simple) - Elementary Specialization - Conjuration (simple) - Psionic (simple) - Necromancy (simple) - Rend - Shield Wall - Multishot - Coup De Gras - Sense Weakness - Quickdraw - Berserk - Pound - Unlock (simple) - Flank - Sense Danger - Extra Perception - Shadowwalk - Acrobatic Strike - Rupture - Stand your Ground

Once again, the large number of options left Jarow feeling overwhelmed. He noticed wha he felt could be the beginnings of becoming a spellcaster. This made his mouth begin tp water, at least figuratively. These were the types of powers he had wanted to see for a while now.

Admittedly, he enjoyed the pure physical strength and prowess that he had felt in his last body, the pure rush of adrenaline and accompanying heat of bloodlust he felt while he fought Boklojif was truly addicting.

Although his main objective since learning about magic was to be a practitioner of it. He had pictured himself wielding a staff, blasting out powers, and defeating great monsters. Granted, in his imagination, he had been more of a withered old human in robes, but then Jarow looked down at his body and thought to himself with a smile. “At least I have the right beard this time.”

He could sense there were explanations and options behind the abilities labeled (simple). They were not the only abilities with added information and uses, though. He focused on Extra Perception.

Extra Perception: This ability allows the user an uncanny ability to see changes in environment and situations. Extra Perception can be useful for spotting obstacles such as traps, as well as finding hidden locations. It can also be used for spotting vulnerabilities whether in diplomatic or combat situations.

Jarow interpreted the ability to be not only a rogue-like skill but also one that could be used by fighters to find the chink in an opponent's armor. It might also be employed by someone like a merchant to identify the best target for a potential customer in making a sale.

The strange words like rogue and merchant came out of him naturally now. When he had woken up in a strange body several days ago, the farthest thing from his mind would be choosing what type of class he would work towards. Yet here he was, understanding and talking about different types of fantastical classes and professions.

He thought about his lives and his journey through his new existence. He certainly hadn’t considered becoming a rogue or fighter when he had woken up the first time in this place, but now as he stared at his character sheet and contemplated his next profound change, he wondered if this was really the way it was supposed to be, if the few things he knew from his old life were actually the oddity rather than the norm.

It felt alien and odd to him, but at the same time, familiar and enjoyable. He had somewhat realized his life here was a game, that he could die and return. He learned how to use a sword, to fight, and had defeated monsters. But at the same time, this fantastical adventure was his actual life, the existence he was truly experiencing.

He began to wonder if leaving this hallway would change what his life now looked like. Would he be in this body for the rest of his life if he left, would he continue to adventure and fight monsters, or would he grow sick of exploring and just want to settle down and have a family?

He shook his head violently, banishing thoughts of the future and "what ifs" from his mind. "I need to focus on the here and now, and how I am actually going to escape and survive, not what might happen in the future," he said aloud; and startled himself.

His voice sounded strange; it was deep and full, too full, sounding like two huge stones rubbing together. There was also a peculiar accent that accompanied it. He spoke aloud once more, “My name is Jarow, and I am a dwarf,” just to hear himself speak again.

While unusual, he had to admit the voice was impressive. Strangely, it didn’t echo at all though, not even within the walls of this cell. He had grown used to hearing everything he said echoing through the hallway, at least as far as the fog allowed, but this deep, gravelly voice stopped shortly after he spoke.

He briefly wondered if that was another of the dwarven racial abilities and considered diving deeper into the UI’s information on Dwarves, but chose not to go looking for answers now because he was getting seriously concerned about Xinpo. He checked his timer. He had been sitting here for over an hour now, and still, his companion hadn’t appeared.

Jarow finally decided that if Xinpo wasn’t going to come to him, then he needed to go to Xinpo. The dagger had dropped out of midair last time he had died and returned, but apparently that wasn’t the case this time. He remembered killing Boklo, and was almost certain that Noruff had finished off Jif, so perhaps that changed the rules here now?

The first thing he needed to do was to cover up his nudity. There was no blanket in this cell, so he stepped into the hall and looked both ways. He checked the door; the pull was on the inside, so he needed to go left in order to find his way to the grand hall.

He knew there were some rooms he had walked by when following Noruff to meet Boklojif, rooms that he hadn’t opened and that should still have the flimsy off-white blankets in them, so he started walking in that direction. He passed room after room, peeking into each to make sure there was nothing inside. None of the rooms held a blanket or anything else.

He remembered; that way back in his first body, he had found a room with a window set high up on the wall. He couldn’t remember seeing that room or any other rooms with a window in them in all his time here, which he thought was peculiar.

As he continued to walk and check the rooms, he wondered how he had missed the room with the window or if maybe he had woken up in a room beyond where the room with the window in it was: so that he would have to had to moved in the alternate direction if he had wanted to find it. He then realized he hadn’t passed the room with his corpse in it either, and began recalling the pattern of the hallway and its rooms.

He had always used the two rooms to get his bearings in this place. The room with his remains gave off a sense of peace that seemed very counterintuitive, but he had enjoyed being able to relax and think about things there.

He stopped and almost turned around, thinking he should return and verify the rooms were still there and that he was walking in the correct direction. Then another thought came to him, and he wondered if Noruff would be walking this way to find him already. He had a suspicion the Quigza was on his way already, so with some trepidation, he continued walking.

Jarow passed more and more doors, enough that he began thinking he should be entering the area of the hallway where the doors were still closed, where he had been unable to search them before. He was growing more certain he hadn’t gone down the hall this far before.

He stopped and checked one of the open doors. The pull-ring was on the inside, so he was indeed going in the correct direction. The handles to the doors were the only way he knew of telling which way was which in this place, so all he could do was trust his information and continue walking.

Farther and farther down the hall, Jarow walked, the doors were always open, and the rooms always empty. When his timer crossed the three-hour mark, he knew for certain something was wrong. It had never taken more than an hour to reach the large room with the huge door that led to the grand hall. Generally, it took less than half an hour of walking before the large room opened up out of the fog. If Noruff were to meet him to take him to the grand hall, he would have done so by now..

Then Jarow recalled why it had been so important that Noruff escape. He was the only one who had the ability to end the endlessness of the hall. Jarow’s shoulders slumped, and he placed his back to the wall and slid down.

“What am I going to do? If Noruff died, will I…” his thought trailed off.

Jarow began desperately calling out, “Norruf!” “Xinpo!” He heard his voice leave his mouth, but it quickly stopped without returning, no echo. He began to contemplate what that meant again. Could his voice travel through the fog? Would it be able to be heard at all more than a couple of meters away?

He called out again, aiming his shouts in different directions. He listened for a response, but there was none. He was unsure what to do. He had nothing in his inventory to help him. Just his soul coin from his original body and some shards of the wall he had chipped off with his sword, chips that Norruf had wanted to gather and keep.

“Could I have broken this place when I chopped the wall?” He vaguely wondered. With little else to do, Jarow pulled a shard from his inventory. The black crack in reality appeared, and he placed his hand inside. He knew it was safe, but seeing his hand disappear within the darkness was still astonishing and a bit unnerving.

He removed his hand with a shard gripped tightly in his fist. He held the shard up and examined it. The light in this place seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, so there was no way he could get a brightness behind it, but something caught his eye nonetheless.

He held the fragment up to the wall he sat against and noticed something, the piece of the wall he had broken was a subtle shade lighter than the wall he sat against. He stared at it in wonder and felt his perception shift as he did. Something deep inside, like his ancestors speaking to his soul from beyond reality, brought a new awareness to his eyes and fingertips.

This fragment of the hall, what he had always felt was too flat to be real, too binary to be anything natural, now told him a different story. The reference to Dwarves having ancient abilities locked within their DNA came back to him, and suddenly Jarow knew what was happening. He knew that if he had been in any other body, he wouldn’t have noticed; this chip of stone, and yes, in his perception, it was actually a piece of stone, was different from the stone of the hallway he was now in.

He pulled another piece from his inventory to verify his finding and held it up to the wall. It was the same lighter shade as the first. He tested all of the shards in his inventory with the same results. “How curious,” he said as he looked down at the shards he held in his open palms.

“Wait, did I just hear something come from these shards?” he asked himself. He wasn’t certain, but he could almost swear he heard his voice reflect off of the shards. He spoke again, quick and loud to confirm his observation. “HO!”

There was indeed a small echo of his voice returning from the shards. The rest of this place absorbed sound, not allowing it to reverberate and reflect. This is why his voice sounded so short-lived. His head began churning with this new information.

"I think I am in a different hall. The stone is different, both in color and in quality. Could killing Boklojif have started a new hallway with an entirely new boss?" he asked himself.

The idea of having to start over without Xinpo and Norruf was frustrating at the very least. Daunting for certain, and virtually impossible in reality.

He spoke aloud, mostly to hear something in this quiet world. “It seemed like everyone found a key before. No, maybe not everyone, but most, according to what Noruff had talked about. Does that mean I should be able to find another key here? Would I be able to use that key to either exit this place or return to the previous hallway?”

He rolled the shards around in his hands as he continued to think aloud. “Could this place be a mirror of the other? Could it be that I need to walk in the other direction? If this is a new hallway, then will there be another Boklojif?”

He continued to ponder and ask questions without answers. His timer continued to count upward. It reached five hours before he had realized he had been sitting for so long. The shards he had been rolling around in his hands had started to smooth out and look shinier.

Jarow looked down at the shards in his hands and realized that somehow his hands had been polishing the stones as he rolled them around. He looked at his fingers; they were covered in the dust from the stones and had taken on the color of the previous hallway.

He wondered if this was another part of the dwarven racial ability with stones and jewels, if their skin was tough enough to polish rock. He had seen and heard many things with his heightened elven senses, which he would have missed in any other body. He had more strength and fighting prowess in his Orc body than he would probably have in any other body.

Both of those bodies had assisted him in different ways due to their racial abilities. It was becoming obvious that the dwarven senses pertaining to stone were something he needed now. He stared down at his rough hand, now gray from the dust of the stones, and a strange idea began to percolate in his mind.

He stood up and placed his hands on the wall. Instead of them both remaining solid, the hand covered in the dust of the shards, pressed into the stone like it was clay, while his other hand remained firmly in place.

He could feel the stone underneath his fingers melt away in front of his hand, but as he closed his fist, the stone closed around, locking his fist in place. He tried, but found he could no longer open his hand, then he began to panic. He began twisting his hand and pulling at it in an attempt to remove it from the wall. In the process he scraped his hand but accomplished nothing; he was stuck.

Jarow knew panicking wouldn’t solve anything, so he closed his eyes and thought about what had just happened. He slowed his breath and concentrated. He slowly relaxed his hand, allowing the fingers to press slowly back out and the stone reluctantly moved with them, finally allowing Jarow to back his hand out of the wall, retracing it through the path it had taken. Once out, he cast Minor Heal and let the liquid-light heal the abrasions.

He looked into the hole his hand had made; he could barely see where the stone had shifted to conform to his moving hand. He looked at his hand again. It had remained the slightly lighter shade of the shards, the dust staying relatively unmoved.

He sat back down to think. A course of action was beginning to form in his mind, but the thought of doing what he was thinking he might have to was frightening and risky. He closed his eyes and allowed his senses to move outward. He could feel the stone beneath and behind him, sensing the difference in the stone from those he now held in his off hand.

Finally, after several long moments of meditation and concentration, Jarow knew how to get out of this hallway. It would take some time, but he was almost certain it would work. He began once again to tumble the shards in his hands. As he rolled the shards and continued to sense his surroundings, becoming more accustomed to the feel of the stone, he hoped Xinpo and Norruf had found their way out, but another part of him hoped they would wait for him.

He had his plan to leave, but it would take time to pull off, and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to push through with it. He kept his eyes closed, sensing what he could about the stone of this hall, but thought to himself, “Am I claustrophobic?”