Gemlek trudged his way down the stone steps, sighing to himself in frustration. Ever since the tribe had arrived at their new, hopefully permanent, tribal land four rests ago, the Big High Chief had ran them all ragged. "Cut tall-woods for burning," he would yell in his shrill voice, "Hunt the three-legs and take here for choppin' up. The matas need food for making more strong Chaka! We needs more numbers after the big fight!" The mans were unprepared and their pathetic soldiers had fallen to the superior force of the fledgling Scarsnout Tribe. Even without the system's blessing - even after their kind was reduced to mere monsters in the eyes of the mans - the chaka could still prove their strength against the tribes of man. And now that they had conquered new land, this town would become the seat of the Scarsnout as tradition dictated. Life was better, but not perfect. Their tribe was new, weak, and they would have to grow fast lest they fall under the thumb of a larger and more settled tribe. They had dared to draw so close to the lands of man specifically to avoid paying tribute to the stronger tribes. It was a risky gamble, but it had paid off in full.
Despite his class being suited towards locating animals as he hunted, Gemlek had earned himself a handful of kills with his meat slicer and ascended to level three, gaining him his second Class Skill. It was strange to him that the system would claim them monsters yet still allow them to take classes like the tribes of man. But what did he know? He was just a [Tracker]. Now, he could not only track that which he hunted, as any tracker learned upon taking the class, but foraging came easier to him too. He was turning into quite the survivalist. If the Big High Chief demanded anything more of Gemlek, well, he might just go off on his own and see where life took him. There was a big world outside of a run-down, small village on the outskirts of Rhaem where the Big High Chief wouldn't even give the loot to those who could make use of it. Gemlek mean, really, who need bow most if it not a HUNTER? And if he really begged, he was sure that one of the bigger clans would take him in and he could live an easy life. All chaka needed food, after all. That made Gemlek useful to any clan - not just the Scarsnout. Although... he'd always bear their mark. Maybe he could get it healed - take another clan's mark. A chaka with two clan-marks was untrusted at best and dead at worst.
As a [Tracker], Gemlek had been busy with the other hunters slaughtering the 'three-legs'... although he'd been relegated to finding them and asking a hunter who'd actually been given a ranged weapon to borrow theirs. And what did the Big High Chief smugly demand of him when he returned with his latest catch? "Very good. You go make sure no mans be hiding in their holy place, Gemlek. It the only building left. You go alone. Is quieter." He growled to himself as he practically broke the rotting door down, squinting as he stared into the darkness of the under-place. There was a glow in the room ahead. It was faint, but definitely...
Something grabbed his ankle hard enough to bruise. He yelped, kicking his foot but it - a bony thing - wouldn't let go! He opened his mouth to scream when more bone wrapped around his throat, constricting his airflow. His eyes bulged as he caught sight of the aggressor, reaching for his knife only to grasp at air, hearing the faint clatter as it was tossed carelessly onto a nearby stone slab to slide out of reach. A bony man was strangling him... and it had taken his weapon. A hundred half-formed thoughts and emotions ran through his head at once. Anger at the Big High Chief for sending him alone, fear at the bony-man's strength and his impending doom, sorrow that this was how he would die when his life was finally beginning.
The bony-man squeezed harder, hefting Gemlek off of his feet and slamming him roughly against the stone wall. He saw nothing but darkness in those cold, empty sockets and frantically tried to beg for his life, yet no sound came out. The bony-man simply watched him, unmoving, as it choked the life out of him. He had to escape!
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The Master watched as the strange, red creature struggled in her grip. It was intriguing, the way it fought against her as if she hadn't already caught it. Surely it was just a waste of energy to continue fighting? Why didn't it just accept its loss and give in? A sudden, dull pain in her ribs caught her attention as she looked down to see that the creature had began to kick at her wildly as it made strangled noises. She watched, curiously, noting that the creature fought less and less with time. Finally, the creature went limp... and her bones surged with power.
You have slain Chaka Tracker, Lv. 3
3 Anima was absorbed. Excess Anima has dispersed. Experience has been acquired. Skeletal Hand has gained experience.
New pattern revealed. Progress towards unlocking pattern - Chaka: 5%
You have reached [Skeleton] Level 2.
Skill selection is now available! [1]
It had died. The Master was confused. Why had it been so weak that it died simply from being held? All she had done was pick it up. Perhaps she had been too rough? Ah... perhaps it couldn't breathe. Not that it mattered any more. This 'skill selection' could wait for now. Staring at the limp body in her grasp, she examined the creature further. It was humanoid, yet only a little over half the height of her seven foot frame. On its head were two small, almost beady eyes, two large and floppy ears, a stubby snout that bore a straight scar and a sharp-toothed mouth. She inspected the inside of the corpse's mouth, finding nothing of interest beyond a tongue and the confirmation that this creature had both molars and sharp fangs. It had two, nubby bone-white horns. Its shoulder-length, shaggy hair was a deeper, darker crimson color while its eyes were a deep blue with yellow irises. The creature - a chaka, the box had said - had clawed hands and feet and was clad in padded hide armor with a furred collar. A smooth, hairless red tail sprouted from the back of its pelvis, hanging limply. The Master felt a pang of disappointment. It was an interesting creature and she had killed it by accident. Now, how would she learn from it? How frustrating. She would have to find another and capture it. But first, she had to prepare. It might not have been alone...
Your study of the chaka has further increased progress toward pattern unlock.
Progress towards unlocking pattern - Chaka: 10%
Ah! a whole kill's worth of progress simply from studying the dead thing. She would gladly take that. This corpse was important. It was far more interesting than a mere rat, though she'd likely study the next rat corpse she found as well, and so she would not will it away just yet. Instead, she laid it out upon one of the many sarcophagi and searched the floor for its knife. Now that she thought about it, each time that she'd gained experience had been when she had been the one to kill her foe. This time it had been shared between her and the hand that had attacked the chaka. She would have to test this hypothesis, but if she was correct then that meant that the killer of an entity would gain the lion's share of experience while those who assisted would gain a portion of it. As for why the rat had given her some experience and none to the hands, her working theory was that it had only a small amount of experience to give. That way, it only made sense that she would be the one to gain it if she was the killer. She picked the weapon off of the floor, glancing over its primitive construction.
Flint Knife
Quality: Crude
Composition
- {Crude} Flint Blade ~
- {Crude} Unknown Leather Wrap
A weapon. Not a great weapon, but it was something that she could use instead of her hands. She would keep it for now. The knife's status implied that this weapon was shoddily made but offered little else in terms of information, a revelation that she'd had many times so far. She wasn't sure what the symbol next to the blade was supposed to mean. Just another needlessly obscure thing that, as far as the text boxes were concerned, she should already know.
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Something that had occurred to her, as she inspected the body, was that it had a class. She didn't know what that meant, but it seemed important. Something told her that she would certainly benefit from a real class. With that out of her grasp for now, she decided to see how gaining a level had impacted her status. What did it mean for her?
Unnamed 'The Master' - Level 2 Race: {Highborn} Skeleton Type: {Intelligent} Undead Class: Skeleton 2/10 Affinities: None Titles: [Dungeon Master] Body Integrity: 97% Soul Integrity: 100% Anima: 10/10
The risen skeleton of a highborn. She appears to have awoken recently.
Interestingly, she was not raised by necromantic magic.
This skeleton is not bound to any master.
Current Effects: N/A
Oh! Her anima capacity had doubled. That explained how she could afford the next expansion! How had she gained this level, though? Was it connected to the amount of anima that she had absorbed? No. It was more than likely that this was the purpose of experience. This required further study. For now, though, she had plans. While the explorer in her wanted to see what laid above her, The Master had to expect a potential fight. There was safety in numbers and she wasn't certain that a group of prepared 'Chaka' couldn't defeat her if she was alone. With that being the case, it only made sense to even the odds. She purchased the spawner and watched it intently. Soon, a skeletal human climbed its way out of the sarcophagus, its eyes glowing a soft teal light.
Spawner claimed - Skeleton. Spawner activated.
Skeleton pattern unlocked.
Skeleton Capacity: 0/5
Spawn Paragon [5 Anima]
The Master thought for a moment, watching her minion as it sat nearby and rapped its fingerbones against the slab it sat on mindlessly. A small part of her was frustrated at the purchase. She could tell, just by looking at it, that it wasn't like her. It was at least a foot shorter, almost certainly more, and showed no sign of intelligence despite its very humanlike behavior. It hadn't even paid her any mind as it passed her. Examining it soon showed why.
Unnamed - Level 1 Race: {Human} Skeleton Type: Undead Class: Skeleton 1/10 Affinities: None Titles: None Body Integrity: 100% Soul Integrity: 100%
The skeleton of a human that has been created in simulacrum through the use of a dungeon's anima.
It obeys the dungeon master's commands but has no will of its own.
This skeleton is bound to an unnamed dungeon.
Current Effects: N/A
Annoying that they were not intelligent as she was, but convenient to know that they would not complain when following orders. After a moment's thought, she used the rest of her anima to spawn a paragon. She found herself curious as to what the difference was. Taking a seat next to the corpse of her accidental victim, she watched as another skeleton clawed its way out of the coffin. This one regarded her with understanding, primitive as it was in comparison to her own. It was closer to sapient, if not fully there, at the very least. She could at the very least say that it possessed the ability to think.
Unnamed - Level 1 Race: {Human} Skeleton Type: Undead Class: Skeleton 1/10 Affinities: None Titles: None Body Integrity: 100% Soul Integrity: 100%
The skeleton of a human that has been raised by a dungeon, weaving its anima into his long-dead bones.
He is fiercely loyal to the dungeon master and capable of both learning and commanding other minions.
This skeleton is bound to an unnamed dungeon.
Current Effects: N/A
Much better. The Skeleton nodded to her paragon, readying herself to speak. Only, whatever she had tried to say came out as a quiet, raspy wheezing sound. The Paragon mimicked her motion, hissing in response and raising his fist into the air. This skeleton was closer to her height, though still came at least half a foot short of herself. With her voice seemingly lost, something that she hadn't even considered until she needed it, she sighed gently and shifted to her feet. A mental command would have to suffice.
I must deliberate on my first skill. You will guard this place and command my minions - both the hands and your lesser brethren. I will return soon. If you are able, then I also want you to send minions - only the skeletal hands, as they are small and less likely to draw attention - to explore the rest of this building above us. Do not send them outside of the building, though, and ensure that they are not seen. I do not know how safe it is outside and I do not wish to bring attention to this place. Oh, and make sure that nothing touches this corpse. I wish to study it later.
Her paragon nodded and she turned towards her tomb, then hesitated. She handed him the chaka's knife before returning to where she had awoken, a heavy grinding noise sounding as she pulled the door shut behind her and sealed herself off inside of her hidden sanctum. It was time to lay down and read. Laying atop the slab that had sealed her in only recently, she grew still. Her mind wandered. It was time to mull over her decision.
Level 2 achieved in the Skeleton {Rank 1} Class!
You may select one skill.
False Death - {Undead} - An ambush tactic used by many undead. You may position yourself and use this skill to temporarily appear dead, your anima signature significantly reducing in strength and any signs of life appearing to cease. This is unlikely to fool a sensing skill of a higher level.
Osteobolt - {Bone Magic} - Your nature as a skeletal Highborn , a race with an innate capacity for great magic, has opened the path to simple spells far earlier than most. Osteobolt is a spell that allows you to conjure a bone projectile and launch it at an enemy. It will disintegrate upon heavy impact after being fired.
Dense Bones - {Skeleton} - Your bones have grown denser, passively providing durability and a lower risk of breakage. You also have an increased weight and your unarmed attacks are slightly more forceful.
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A paragon.
He was a paragon. The first of many champions to defend this dungeon's walls from invaders. Not only that, but the very first commander of the dungeon's forces. It was a heavy burden to place on a newly risen skeleton yet he found himself prideful and excited in place of trepidation. The Master had chosen him for this honor and he refused to disappoint. As she rested, he began his work. The small, stealthy hands would scout the rest of the surroundings whilst he ordered the skeletons as they spawned. The paragon brandished the sharpened flint - a weapon entrusted by The Master herself - and began practicing his knifework in the darkness. The moves came to him with greater ease than he expected - perhaps being a paragon simply put him on a level above others. He would outgrow this weapon - he preferred something weightier - but for now, it would serve him as he served Her. With little else to do, he commanded the skeletons to take ambush positions within the room. If any invaders came, they would be ready.
He would be ready.