Gans groaned as he woke up on the hard wood floor of the hut, the harsh grain digging ridges into his face. Daylight streamed from the small shed window and he turned his head to look away from it. He moaned again as he took a whiff from the air, the smell of puke and piss assailing him as he realized he was still covered slightly in puke from the other day and there was a chafing wetness to his pants.

Overcoming his misery he finally pushed himself up off the floor into a squat and rubbed his forehead. He felt light headed and dizzy, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead even as he felt extremely hot. Standing up slowly, he felt the room sway a little as he fought to regain his balance.

“Fucking shit” he swore, and stood there for awhile as he felt another wave of nausea pass him.

Holding his stomach with a hand, he slowly limped over towards the chair he was sitting in the previous night and sat down roughly, gritting his teeth as he felt the urge to puke rising again. If he didn’t know any better, it felt like he was hung over.

He eyed the old man across the table from him, his head still tucked into the crook of his arm from where he fell asleep the last night. Why didn’t the old man react when he had fallen onto the floor last night, kicking and screaming? He took another look at the old man, and noticed that he was paler than yesterday. Gans he felt himself sniffing the air as well. He hadn’t noticed before, with the smell of puke following him around, but there was a copper blood smell to the air.

Slowly reaching his hand out he put a clawed finger to Albert's neck. He didn’t need to feel the pulse, as the moment he touched his skin he could tell Albert was dead. The old man was cool to the touch.

Standing up and walking around the table Alex pulled the old man back up into a sitting position and saw the huge blood stain on the man’s stomach. Old crusted over blood was pooled underneath his chair as well.

Gans looked thoughtfully back in the direction of the house Albert talked about last night. He must have come back to the shed wounded and knowing he was going to bleed out when Alex discovered him.

Gans noticed something else was bothering him. His own entire body felt somehow wrong to him. The feet hurt inside of his boot as if each of his toes were pressed up against something, and his fingers itched him.

He took a moment to look away from Albert, eyes finally focusing on his hands that were supporting the body up. He released Albert, the old man’s body collapsing back onto the table as Alex looked at his hands with shock.

His hands were green.

Alex stood there for a moment quietly, his exhaustion over the day’s event smothering the shock as he turned over his hands slowly. Most of his arm hair was missing, and his skin was dyed a dark green. Purple veins ran across his arms and running a hand across his arm the skin felt tougher than before. He quickly looked around the room for a reflective surface but didn't see anything usable.

“Status” he said out loud, in a quiet monotone voice.

Name: Gans

Race: Green skin hybrid

Level 11

Fame: 0

Health: 15

Mana: ???

Stamina: ???

Strength:10

Endurance:10

Dexterity:10

Intelligence:5

Wisdom:10

Luck:1

Charisma:5

Skills:

Pistol: Amateur

Club: Beginner

Traits:

Book worm

Nature affinity

Chaos affinity

Titles:

Cockroach

44 Stat points unused

10 skill points unused

Dumbly he reached up and touched the race screen bringing another pop up into view.

Green Skin Hybrid: The green skin hybrid is considered to be an unpredictable creature at best. Gifted with characteristics of unknown heritage the green skin hybrid can develop erratically. Like most green skins, they are most closely tied to the powers of nature and chaos but their unique parentage can cause this to shift. Green skin hybrids are hated by almost all of the races, seen as a bastardization of their own race and possessing features of their own racial enemies.

“Fucking great.” He said with a sigh. After everything else that had happened and the few times he had nearly been killed already, this was just another thing to pile onto his run of bad luck.

Shaking his head, he reached over to the rest of his notifications queued up on the right side of his vision, waiting there from the previous night. He cringed a little as he popped open the first. It was fairly benign, just a standard kill confirmation.

“exp….exp…kill…” he kept swiping until his face lit up.

Please allocate your skill points.

Yes ma’am he grinned. His inner nerd coming out at the prospect of finally being be able to access anything in this world. It had pissed him off when the soldiers were giving him shit about it. It wasn't like it was his fault that he couldn't access this shit before!

He groaned as a gigantic and confusing skill tree popped up. He sat back down in his chair, for some reason the smell and dead person removed from his mind as he tapped at the different configurations. Alex had never been a patient person. He had read stories of Russians stuck in video games who would spend hours fine tuning everything with an overall plan that came together at high levels. That sounded terrible.

He didn’t even like the fact that he had to allocate his stat points himself to begin with. What if he made a mistake? He hated self-doubt. One of the reasons why he never finished many of his games was because he kept abandoning his characters to start anew with a slightly altered build. It really pissed him off over the years until he figured to just chill out and go with what he wanted.

He wasn’t the guy who could pull out a calculator and diligently create some rare phantom build that no one else had ever thought of. He mashed buttons, and chose things that sounded cool, and that tended to work out just fine.

There were three main branches in the skill tree and those three branched out to a further two, and even that eventually branched out again several times. He scrolled down the list and felt his head spin again. Was there even a max level to this game? It looked as if the skill tree was nearly infinite. How the hell was he supposed to pick a build in this game? He shook his head, and cursed, remembering his golden rule.

Interestingly enough, when the tried to examine any of the skills below the first level it was only marked as “???” It looked like in order to actually know what the next skill was going to be you had to unlock the prerequisite choices. He felt some relief at that, at least he wouldn’t have to compete with a Russian with a calculator.

He look another look at the top of each skill tree, examining simple gold text above each.

Path of the Warrior

“Why rely on others when I can do it myself?”

Path of the Warlord

“Why do it myself when I can rely on others?”

Path of the Warlock

“Why not blast them to pieces and use others as walking meat puppets?”

He grinned at the descriptions before selecting Warlord and putting 5 points into the skill box, maxing it out. The description of the skill was pretty vague, each point was supposed to increase the loyalty of his creatures, but it didn't specify how much. Probably for the same reason he couldn't see his health, mana or stamina either. After being handicapped for so long now, he wasn't going to complain.

Two other skill choices were unlocked after he put a point into warlord.

Training:

Each point of training raises the awareness of summoned creatures.

Efficiency:

Each point of efficiency reduces the cost of summoned creatures.

Gans sat there for a moment scratching his head, frustration slowly building in him. He hated it when games did this to him, he wanted both! On one path he ended up with better summons, and another path he ended up with more of them. He felt himself growl as he looked over the options before finally picking “Training” and putting the max five points into it He didn’t want to be stuck with a glassy eyed summon that gained awareness and intelligence over time like his animals had.

Gans looked up at that thought and winced. He had forgotten about his summoned animals. Thinking back to when the goblins were swarming him he realized they must have all died at the ambush.

Wanting to confirm it, he probed the mana pool he felt in his gut and realized there was no draining feeling like when he had previously maintained a summon.

Alex reached out to the floor with his hand.

“Summon Small animal” he felt the mana push through his hands and then dissipate out towards the floor. Nothing happened.

Alex frowned. “Summon Small animal!!!” he yelled this time, pushing more power into it, his raw magic leapt from his hands and…fizzled out on the floor again.

Error: Spell not learned

“What the hell?”

He sat there a moment confused before remembering his summoning book. Pulling it out of his backpack he slammed it down on the table and flipped to the first page. The text was different than he remembered

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Hello there. I'm William the Warlock. I used to live on planet one and I have to tell you that whoever you are, you are one unlucky son of a bitch. Thankfully, Gans, you've got my help, and kid I gotta say that you are really going to need it.

Conjuration is a dangerous magical art, and like many other things, its great power is countered by the level or risk involved. Remember the golden rule regarding all conjuration: Never summon anything more powerful than yourself.

What the hell was with the relaxed language? It was almost a carbon copy of the first time he read the book but now he was reading from some guy named “William the Warlock?” Why the hell is everything so casual around me when I keep nearly dying?

Gritting his teeth back and forth he felt his teeth bite into his cheek. “OW” he yelled, putting a finger against his jaw before his eyes widened. Running his finger along his teeth he could feel a small set of lower and upper canines in his mouth, with the lower ones jutting outwards slightly.

“Great” he sighed again, “I’ve got wolf teeth…awesome… well, at least I don’t have a lisp” he spoke slowly, making sure he didn’t accidentally bite himself while talking.

Looking back at the book he started reading again and sure enough like before he found the first spell of his new...conjuration? book. I guess it changed with my race he thought

Intro to conjuration spells

Everything detailed seemed the same to him as he read, with different twists and variations to the form of the spell. Conjuration seemed almost the same to him as summoning, the only difference was the practice of it. There were always more sigils and hand waving with conjuration, while summoning just needed words of power. It took him a bit longer though as it seemed to delve further into the subject than the summoning book. It seemed as though there were a lot more forms to memorize compared to last time and they eventually coalesced into three primary hand gestures as finishing configurations. Thankfully it was so similar to summoning that it didn’t take him nearly the same amount of time to complete.

Conjure runt goblin [unlocked]

Runt Goblin:

Physically weaker than humans, goblins typically grow to the size of a large child. Runt goblins are the lowest able-bodied of their society. Their less than average strength earning them the lowest rank of goblin society as a whole and as such they normally come equipped with only the bare minimum of arms and armor.

Conjure goblin skirmisher [unlocked]

The “typical” goblin foot soldier. The goblin skirmisher comes skilled in various weapons that delay an enemy charge, temporarily holding the line for goblin archers to pick off opponents. They wear various grades of leather armor and emphasize using light shields and longer weapons to hold of large opponents.

Conjure goblin archer [unlocked]

Due to their small size, goblins emphasize ranged combat, and are extremely effective at hitting their targets. In order to make up for their lack of strength and range they typically wait in hiding and use low grade poisons on their arrows.

He slammed the book shut and put it back into his pack while he stood up. His tolerance for leveling up, spell craft and stats were being strangled by how dirty he felt. Nothing like having half dried piss pants and goblin blood mixed with vomit to really make you feel like shit. Not to mention he was hanging out in a shed with a dead guy.

Looking over at Albert he felt apathetic. Maybe it was the race change, or maybe it was the amount of dead people he had seen over the past few days, but he didn’t feel too bad about the old man. In fact, thinking about it, he reached over and searched the man’s pockets. Pocketing the man’s pipe and loose tobacco. Stuffing the pipe into one of his vests many loops and the tobacco into his back pack. He checked the shotgun as well and grimaced, only one shell left.

He looked at the old man, and imagined if he had never showed up to the shed to meet the old man. Would old man Albert have blown his own head off?

He picked up the shotgun, glad to have a familiar weapon in his hands. He had little to no practice with pistols and rifles, but plenty of time with shotguns. Running his hands over the grip he smiled, this was a relatively modern one, with shock absorbers running inside the stock at an angle. Hopefully he could find more ammunition, he wasn’t too worried however as 12 gauge were pretty common. The shogun would have to be for emergencies. He needed a more reliable weapon.

He looked around the shed at the walls filled with tools and smiled as his eyes came upon a small hatchet and a fire axe in the corner of the shed. Mentally blessing whoever the owner of this shed was, he grabbed the small hatchet, fitting it into one of his vest loops near his back and then picked up the fire axe with both hands, taking a few experimental swings. He smiled as he felt himself swing the axe around.

Laying the axe on the table temporarily Gans focused a bit of his magical pool into his finger, then knelt over and drew a circle into the ground. He could feel a connection to the circle on the ground and focused on it, pulling on what felt like a void in the floor. He felt another connection made and a small green goblin head poked out from the ground. The goblin runt pulled itself up from the earth and looked at him with a vicious grin, its yellow eyes flashing with excitement before it stepped aside and another goblin runt pulled itself out of the ground.

Alex continued to pull from the circle until he felt he reached his limit and then imagined mentally cinching off the void, the circle shrinking and then vanishing from sight. Five goblin runts looked at Alex expectantly. Unlike his first animal summons, each had a slight look about its eyes that betrayed a degree of awareness and independence. It seemed like his “Training” skill had worked.

Alex viciously smiled back at them, his new canines on full display. It didn’t bother him that these were the same green skinned vipers, albeit smaller, that had been chasing him around the past couple of days. These were his little green skinned vipers, and part of him felt excited to use them against the same exact things that had been tormenting him. Fight fire with fire.

He hadn’t dared to summon the ambusher or skirmisher types yet, as he remembered the first time his summons had attacked him. He knew intuitively that he could trust his goblin minions far less than his previous animals.

He inspected the goblin runts in front of him, each looked like the size of a 12 year old kid to him, and they had little or no clothing besides a loincloth. Most of them carried daggers, and one of them carried a familiar looking club that he had bashed him over the head. Taking a look along the walls, he didn’t see any other weapons that he could give them, so what they had would have to do.

Alex looked back at the black windowed house that the old man had warned him off. Normally he wouldn’t take the risk, but he was getting tired of walking around with dirty, soiled clothing. Maybe even the water was still working inside the house? He wanted to gamble on it. The old man had said that others went into the house with him, maybe whatever was inside was weakened?

“Hey” he barked quickly to get the attention of the goblins in front of him. Their attention had been waning as he was thinking, each one shuffling their feet and looking around themselves. One of the 5, a goblin with blue whorl dye on its face, was eyeing the tool wall as well, and jumped suddenly as Gans called out to it. He imagined it, but there might have been a slight glimmer of defiance in its eyes. He mentally noted to keep an eye on that one.

“Follow me” he turned and made out for the door reaching out for it. He stopped as he put his free hand on the door. Looking at it, he couldn't shake the feeling that the door seemed to large to him. Shrugging, he opened it and walked outside.

Daylight flooded his senses and he had to move a free hand to his face, hissing slightly while he took in his surroundings. The goblins filed in behind him, each voicing displeasure as they were temporarily blinded by the sun as well. After awhile Gans looked around him. It was actually incredibly peaceful in a way. He couldn't see anything over the fence and the distance gunfire rounds were even less frequent than before. A cool breeze whipped through the backyard he was in and the smell of himself lessened somewhat.

He eyed the house. It didn't seem like anything special, a one floor colonial style house sitting in a suburban neighborhood filled with them. The only eerie thing were all of the blackened windows that he couldn't see through. Other than that, it looked OK.

He hesitated slightly and considered picking up the patrol path instead. The only problem was, there was no way for him to even find them. That assumed they were even still alive.

He stood there a moment thinking back to the fighting and really couldn't tell whether they would have even been able to get away. They seemed resourceful though, for some reason he couldn't imagine Mick or even Donnie dying out there.

Donnie was a thoroughbred warrior that could punch through armor if he wanted, and Mick seemed like kind of guy who knew when to get out when the shit hits the fan. His dumb-ass was the one who decided to fight close to the house and then fight them off instead off falling back.

Without knowing better, it seemed risky to try and rejoin the patrol, or at least make his own way to the army base. At least not until he figured out what he could do with his new conjurations. That and he starting to feel more and more like shit, standing there with piss soaked pants and a shirt covered in puke and blood. He had been stabbed, bashed, knocked to the ground, and chased for a few miles by a troll. He could use a little break inside a secured instanced home. Assuming he could clear it anyway.

Gans took a moment to consider the house before pointing at the blue tattoo goblin. “Hey. You” He pointed at it. The other goblins shrunk away as it looked for support from the others.

After a moment it replied, hands wringing together slightly, “boss?”

Gans smiled and pointed a thumb at the back door of the house. “Go inside and find out whats in there.”

The little goblin runt with the face tattoos stared at him in horror, looking back and forth between the house and Gans.

“b...but boss?”

“No buts. Don't think I didn't see you eyeing those tools back in the shed you little shit. The last thing I need is for you to stab me in the back with an ice pick. Now get inside there. Or else.” Gans raised his axe a little, and then pointed it towards the house.

Like one of the condemned, the goblin slouched a little bit and shuffled over to the door, opening it and then disappearing through the entrance way. The other goblins seemed to delight in this, and were smiling to each other as they watched the lone goblin get sucked through the dark portal of the doorway. Their celebration cut short when Gans gave them a glare.

Trait gained:

Tough boss

Decreased chance your subordinates will work against you while you are around them.

He clicked his tongue and he closed the window, sneering a little at it and clenching his fist. He was starting to hate this game world with a passion, despite how much of a gamer he was. Why did everything have to be measured? If he got a pop up notification for everything he did and the associated boosts for it he would go crazy.

After what felt like a few minutes Gans pointed to another goblin at random. It looked like the littlest of the group. The others sighed in relief as they noticed him point that one out.

“You. Pop inside, tell me what you see, and then pop back outside. Don't die.”

Unlike the blue tattooed goblin, this smaller one looked like it was getting ready to run away from him. Sensing it, he quickly reached over and grabbed it by the neck, lifting it into the air and then carrying it over to the black portal of the doorway.

“wow boss is cool” he heard whispering behind him from the other goblins, and he rolled his eyes at the flattery as he walked.

“remember,” he said, looking at the small goblin in his hand, “I just need you to tell me what you see when you get inside. Take a look, and then come back out. Got it?” He looked the small runt goblin in its frightened red eyes and it nodded furiously.

“Good.” Then he chucked it into the portal as well.

Within seconds the goblin popped back out, shaking furiously in fright.

“j..j..just dead humans boss. It..it...looked like they had been fighting each other.”

Gans stood there a moment debating in his head before turning to the goblins behind him. “Alright everyone inside!” He yelled at them.

Hesitantly, they complied, each looking like the first goblin as they marched in, faces betraying their fear. After they were all inside, Gans took a deep breath before a smile grew on his face. He couldn't explain it himself, but for some reason the idea of getting into a fight made him excited. He surged through the portal, axed raised in a ready position.

Popping into the house he looked around quickly. Beside the human bodies on the ground and the covering group of four goblins with their weapons at the ready he didn't see anything hostile. The house was fairly open, with the kitchen on his right, and the family room in front of him. The front foyer and front door were visible as well.

Taking hesitant steps forward he ignored the human bodies and turned to look at a small hallway leading towards bedrooms. He felt his adrenaline continuing to rise and his hands twitched nervously in excitement. Knowing better than to walk down the hallway Gans backed up into the kitchen and banged the back of his axe head against the kitchen table. The glasses and silverware along the counter top shook with the vibrations of his axe head bashing against it. A few glasses fell off the counter top and shattered on the floor.

Alex placed his axe back in both hands again and looked at the hallway, getting ready for whatever charged out. Surprisingly the other goblins with him were starting to look eager as well.

“COME ON! GET ME!” he roared down the hallway. His blood was surging now and he tasted blood on his lip from where one of his canines had jutted out from his lower lip.

Nothing came.

Still high on a surge of blood lust Gans stepped forward, choking close to the handle of the large axe as he entered the hallway. Throwing the first door open he saw a nursery with bloodstains coming from the crib. Pass. The next room, an immaculate office. Pass. Next room, a kids room, stupid posters handing from the wall. He cursed. Next room. The family bathroom, a tub filled with water.

Finally he reached the last door of the hallway and bashed the door open with his foot, the flimsy door handle quickly giving way before he charged into the room, axe at the ready looking around for his target. No one inside here either. The only thing of note were the two bodies laying side by side on the bed, hands held together. Gans snorted, and turned away.

SNEAK ATTACK CRITICAL DAMAGE.

BLEED AFFLICTION

He looked down at the grinning face of his blue tattoo faced goblin and drooped his axe in shock, the burst of energy whooshing out of him. The goblins outstretched arm led to a large knife handle that was sunk down into his gut. Blue tattoo face snickered a bit as he released the hilt before shrieking in victory and pumping his small arms.

In disbelief, Gans slowly grasped the knife handle and pulled the large blade out of him, the serrations rubbing against his insides as he started to pull. In a fit of excruciating pain and anger he felt himself rip it out and fall back against the back of the bed, his stomach bleeding profusely. Some part of him idly wondered if he should have just left it in

Looking back up at the celebrating goblin Gans smiled.

“Kill him,” he said horsely, looking behind the blue face goblin where the other four goblins had followed him in.

The four looked between him and the blue faced goblin who was now weaponless. Bluffing his strength Ghans gritted his teeth and managed to grip onto the handle of his axe again. On seeing that the four turned on the blue faced goblin, small daggers out as they fell upon the now defenseless traitor. Alex savored the screaming while it lasted, the other goblins were just as savage as he remembered, only this time they were attacking their own kind.

After watching the short lived fight, he sighed slightly, bringing the axe to his chest with weak fingers. When it was done, he pointed back towards the hallway.

“Search the house.” he said weakly, looking at the four blood stained grinning goblins.

The four grinned even more, thrilled at the prospect of finding something else to kill or steal and knuckled their foreheads

“Boss” one of them said, before turning with the others and heading back down the hall way. Loud crashes sounded as the goblins carelessly started to rip apart the house in their search.

Alex sighed again and waited there. Resisting the temptation to close his eyes. The four may have helped him there, but he was unwilling to fall asleep while looking weak in front of them. Pressing his hands against his wound he waited, and waited, until the blood flow finally stopped.

Sitting there as he regained his strength a thought came to mind and his eyes widened.

“SHIT!”

“STATUS” he shouted and the familiar menu popped open in front of him. Tapping quickly he added five points into strength and five points into endurance. With a whoosh, he felt his body swell and the weakness he felt from his blood loss lessened somewhat.

Slowly, on shaking feet he felt himself rise back off the ground and walk down the hall way. Making it to the couch of the family room before falling down into it in a sitting position.

In the center of the room there was a small pile of miscellaneous shiny items. One of the goblins emptying drawers in the kitchen walked over and pitched the silverware into the pile. Gans looked over the pile, frowning slightly. The goblins didn't seem to have very good taste for looting. Half of whatever was piled onto the floor was junk. He noted the silver necklace sitting on top of a shiny toaster as an exemplar of their loot philosophy.

Tearing his eyes away from the every growing pile of shiny items looked at the human bodies scarred across the family room. Thankfully the goblins hadn't moved any of them.

There were about a dozen of them laying in different positions. He noticed that most of them had larger wounds that what the goblins would inflict. Groaning, he stood up and shuffled over towards them, taking in more details the closer he got. Standing among them he started to get a picture of what happened.

Most of them looked a lot like the man he had met in the shed, ragged and tired people fleeing from whatever kind of apocalypse this world was falling under. However, others were dressed with full body armor, and not the modern kind either. One of them was even wearing what looked to him to be a vest of leather scale armor. The two groups were facing each other and the wounds on either side clearly matched up with each other.

Were these adventures that came across a group of survivors? He scratched his head. It didn't seem to make any sense to him, but it was indisputable that the two groups had fought. The only survivor being the old man who had made his way to the shed after getting stabbed in the gut.

One of his goblins walked around him carrying an ornate silver platter with a big smile on his face and he turned to it them go about its business looting. It looked like it would take awhile, there weren't being very efficient about it, and he wasn't sure how they planned on carrying it all after all was said and done.

Shaking his head from the absurdity of it all, Gans walked into the bathroom and stripped down. Tossing his soiled clothes back into the hallway. He eyed the filled bathtub with a gleam in his eye. It would be a giant waste of water, but all the blood and piss and puke on him was starting to wear his patience thin.

He slowly lowered himself into the cold water of the bathtub, sighing in relief as he felt himself relax.