Sinclair materialized in a room that exuded an almost clinical sterility. Its pristine walls and immaculate floor were devoid of any embellishment, creating an ambiance that was both calming and unnervingly impersonal.
In front of him stood a simple table, atop which rested a podium. Perched on the podium, a sleek tablet caught his eye. As he reached out and picked up the tablet, it dissolved into a mist of pixels, seamlessly integrating into his interface. Instantly, his Training tab updated, revealing a new array of options and controls. Toggling over to the notification he started browsing the updated information.
He was presented with various levels of control over the training scenarios he could engage in. Each option was meticulously categorized, allowing him to tailor his training experience to his specific needs. The possibilities seemed endless, offering him a chance to refine his skills and learn new techniques in a controlled environment.
Sinclair paused, taking a moment to absorb the potential this training world held. It was a unique opportunity to push his abilities to new heights, and he was determined to make the most of it.
He can set up the training rooms for others to access. But they would not experience time dialation like he does. Sinclair would get 8v1 standard time and anyone else would get 2v1. The time dialation that the system was capable of still boggled his mind. He loved the extra time this was going to give him but knew that he would probably never understand how it worked.
In the training world, Sinclair discovered he had the authority to set permissions on access levels. This feature provided an added layer of customization, ensuring that his training experience would be both challenging and safe. He could allow individuals and groups up to 5 at a time access. They were allowed to pick from skills he made available though. He wondered why he would want to limit any skills though. Was there a down side to learning too many skills he wondered to himself.
A key distinction presented itself between some of the skills. There was a tab for non-lethal and lethal training rooms. To enter a lethal training room, specific permissions were required, emphasizing the potential risks involved. These rooms were designed for advanced and high-stakes training scenarios, where the realism of combat could be experienced. The downfall was that you could actually die in those rooms. He immediately marked those rooms as off limits to everyone else until he could get a better working idea on how it all worked.
"This must mean that those skills are more rare or higher class starting out." he muttered to himself. He realized he was getting into a habit of muttering when contemplating things about the system.
The non-lethal rooms, on the other hand, were ideal for developing new skills. They allowed a skill to be nurtured through its initial five levels, providing a safe yet effective training environment for beginners or for mastering new techniques. These skills it seemed only covered things like running, athletics, throwing masteries, and 1-handed weapons to name a few. It was starting to sound like the equivalent of a medieval training yard. Or what he would have thought one acted.
Sinclair was astounded by the sheer number of skills listed on the tablet. The catalogue was extensive, running into the hundreds, each skill meticulously detailed and categorized. To undertake these skills, certain proficiencies and stat thresholds had to be met, ensuring that only those adequately prepared could engage with them.
Interestingly, some skills were race-locked, available only to specific races within the System. However, as he scrolled through the list, Sinclair realized that all skills had been unlocked for his use alone. He noticed that he could even use the skills for other races.
He took a deep breath, absorbing the enormity of the opportunity before him. With these resources at his disposal, the potential for growth was immense. Sinclair felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of exploring this vast array of skills, each holding the promise of new strength and abilities.
As Sinclair selects the Echoes of Elvandar skill from the non-lethal training pages, the environment of the training room begins to shift around him. He watches, fascinated, as the room seamlessly transforms into a vast, lush forest, emulating an Elvish habitat. The trees that materialize are enormous, with trunks as wide as his truck, reaching skyward. Their branches interlock high above, creating a natural cathedral of leaves and light.
Sinclair notices the intricate ladders leading up to quaint houses nestled in the treetops - unmistakably the dwellings of wood elves. He realizes he is about to immerse himself in a skill deeply rooted in Elvish culture and movement.
An elder Elf, with an air of serene authority, is instructing a group of younger Elves in the center of a clearing. The elder's movements are fluid and graceful, almost dance-like, demonstrating the Echoes of Elvandar skill. Sinclair, feeling slightly out of place with his non-Elvish physique, finds a spot at the back of the group, keen not to intrude yet eager to learn.
He watches intently as the elder Elf demonstrates the foundational stances of the skill. Each movement is precise and deliberate, embodying a harmony between the body and the surrounding nature. Sinclair begins to mimic these movements, finding the rhythm and flow of the Elvish style. He focuses on his breathing, attempting to synchronize it with his movements, as the Elves do.
Sinclair realizes that this skill is more than mere physical movement; it's a way of connecting with the environment. He learns to shift his weight seamlessly, to move with a quietness that mirrors the stillness of the forest. Every step, turn, and gesture is an exercise in efficiency and grace.
The process is not just physical but also mental. Sinclair finds himself tuning into a more subtle perception of the world around him. He becomes acutely aware of the rustle of leaves, the soft tread of feet on the forest floor, and the gentle sway of the trees.
After about three hours of continuous practice, Sinclair starts to feel a change. The initial awkwardness of his movements begins to give way to a smoother, more natural flow. He feels lighter on his feet, more agile. The skill of Echoes of Elvandar is slowly but surely integrating into his muscle memory and reflexes.
Echoes of Elvandar (Uncommon) - This elegant skill weaves the ancient Elven art of movement with the natural world, granting you an uncanny grace and stealth. It allows you to glide through environments with the silence of falling leaves and the agility of a darting deer. As you master Echoes of Elvandar, your movements will become a blur to enemies, making it harder for them to predict and react to your actions. In addition, this skill enhances your ability to learn and perform complex maneuvers, making you as elusive as the Elves of legend.
As the session comes to a close, Sinclair realizes he has begun to scratch the surface of this elegant Elvish skill. He feels a sense of accomplishment, knowing that he has taken the first steps in mastering a movement style that is not just about fighting, but about existing in harmony with the natural world – a cornerstone of Elvish philosophy and prowess.
Looking at his system screen he notes that he has also spent over 3 hours doing that one skill and getting one level in it. This was a handy tool but it was definitely time intensive. He was eyeballing the list of lethal skills wondering what he could get when he pulled the skill he just learned back up on the tablet. It now showed locked and there was a timer. It read 5 days 23 hours and 58 minutes.
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So, if you learned a skill it locked it's usage for almost a week. That was harsh but he figured there had to be a downside. You couldn't just load this thing full of elves and all of them come out with shiny new skills every minute. That would be way too powerful.
Turning his attention to one of the lethal skills he started browsing. With his stats he wasn't worried about getting killed too much, depending on how the System scaled the difficulty, but he definitely wanted to give it a try. Locating a human skill called Shadow's Veil (Rare) he selected it watching as the room faded into a black square.
Shadow's Veil (Rare) - A rare skill revered among human assassins and spies. It grants the user the ability to blend almost seamlessly into shadows, becoming nearly invisible to the naked eye. More than just a skill of concealment, it enhances the user’s movements, allowing them to traverse silently and undetected, even in plain sight. Additionally, the skill augments the lethality of attacks from stealth, making the first strike from the shadows almost always fatal. Shadow's Veil is a testament to the human mastery of subterfuge and silent elimination.
As Sinclair selected the Shadow's Veil skill, the stark outlines of the current room dissipated into an abyssal void. The training room shrank to a confined space, 30 feet in every direction, stripped of all detail save for the shifting shadows that gave the illusion of depth and motion.
A whisper, ethereal and resonant, filled the void: "Are you ready to meld with the darkness?" It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, disorienting Sinclair as he spun to locate the source. Before he could orient himself, pain lanced through his shoulder—a knife materializing as if conjured by the very shadows he sought to master.
With no assailant in sight, Sinclair realized the challenge was more cerebral than physical. The shadows floated through the room, their movements capricious, taunting him with their elusive dance. Again and again, unseen blades found their mark, prompting Sinclair to reassess his approach.
Drawing upon his knowledge, Sinclair began to circulate mana within his body, attempting to attune his essence to the pervasive darkness. He moved deliberately, mirroring the flowing movements he had observed in the Elven training but adapting them to the sinister ballet of shadows around him.
Passing his hands through the darkness, Sinclair sought not just to move with stealth but to become stealth. As he continued, his perception began to shift; the room's odd dimensions started to make sense, the shadows revealing their patterns. With each step, each breath, he felt the boundary between himself and the darkness blur.
The skill was elusive, a secret written in a language of whispers and subtlety. But Sinclair was a quick study, and as he embraced the concept of oneness with the shadow, he felt a shift. It was a minor change, a mere flicker in his mana flow, but it was enough. The shadows hesitated, then welcomed him, accepting his presence as one of their own.
Silence fell, the whispers ceased, and the knives vanished. Sinclair stood alone, yet surrounded, enshrouded in the Shadow's Veil. He had become a part of the darkness, a whisper among whispers. The skill had taken root within him, and though mastery was still a distant peak, the path forward was clear. He was ready to walk it—silent, unseen, like a shadow passing over the heart of the night.
Sinclair, still in the sterile room, pondered over his half-depleted health bar, a stark reminder of the intense training he had just undergone. The daggers in the training simulation had been relentless, and he couldn't help but feel a tinge of pride at having survived, albeit barely. He glanced again at the tablet, noting the locked skill, now unavailable for another 22 days. It was a clear indication of the system's stringent controls over skill acquisition.
Reflecting on the training world's potential, Sinclair realized the need for careful management. The risk of giving out powerful skills indiscriminately was too high. He considered appointing a trustworthy person to oversee the training worlds, ensuring a balanced and strategic approach to skill development. Additionally, the idea of an entry fee to the training worlds appealed to him as a means to generate revenue for the town's development.
Focusing on the tablet again, Sinclair explored the settings menu, accessed through the three horizontal lines in the top right corner.
* Allocate Curator
* Place Access Portal
Sinclair scrutinized each option on the drop-down menu carefully, his mind working through the possibilities. The Curator role caught his attention, its potential immediately apparent to him. Appointing someone to manage the training worlds would significantly ease his burden. Turgrin, with his astute intelligence and meticulous nature, seemed like an ideal candidate for the role. Sinclair made a mental note to discuss this with Turgrin at the earliest opportunity.
The process of placing an access portal was straightforward. Sinclair only needed to choose a location for a portal stone. However, he wanted more than just a stone; envisioning a dedicated building to house the portal, he thought about coordinating with the town council to bring this idea to fruition. A proper facility would give the training worlds a physical and central presence in Wolf's Run, making them more accessible and organized.
Despite the pressing urge in his chest, urging him to pursue whatever Earth's representation wanted him to find, Sinclair's curiosity about the training worlds remained. It was a constant tug-of-war between duty and the allure of potential skills. He scanned the skill list once more, searching for anything that might be of immediate use or benefit. The comprehensive list offered a myriad of possibilities, each skill promising to enhance his abilities in some way.
As he browsed through the list, Sinclair felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. Each choice he made now could have far-reaching implications for both himself and the town. With a deep breath, he focused on the task at hand, determined to make the best decisions for the future of Wolf's Run.
Sinclair examined his list of preferred skills and decisively selected Sand Viper Strike. Instantly, the room around him metamorphosed into a desolate, sun-scorched landscape. Charred trees stood like sentinels amidst patches of glassy, molten sand, hinting at a cataclysmic event. His senses on high alert, Sinclair knew this lethal training session demanded vigilance.
In the shimmering heat, a mirage-like distortion in the distance gradually coalesced into distinct figures. Approaching rapidly, they resolved into five lizard-like beings, their appearance strikingly reptilian. Adorned in loosely draped clothing that fluttered in the arid wind, they bore metal armor that glinted harshly under the unforgiving sun. Each one was armed with a long, menacing spear, their lengthy tails whipping behind them with each stride. Their visages were sharply angular, eyes narrow slits, and their mouths filled with needle-like teeth.
Halting abruptly before Sinclair, the leader, scales glistening with an oily sheen, inquired in a sibilant tone, "Are you here to master the Sand Viper Strike?"
Affirming with a nod, Sinclair felt a surge of anticipation. "Yes, I am."
"Excellent. Follow us to the next valley," the lizardman instructed, his voice resonating with an ancient timbre. "There, you will face the great sand dragon. In the dance of battle, you will learn the intricate motions of Sand Viper Strike. Watch our every move; survival hinges on understanding the subtleties."
Intrigued by the skill's enigmatic name, Sinclair readied himself for the task ahead.
"Let's proceed," he said confidently. One lizardman tossed him a robust spear, its metal shaft unexpectedly weighty, its head adorned with large, wing-like flanges designed to prevent their quarry from advancing down the shaft. Sinclair caught the weapon deftly, its heft a testament to its lethality.
The lizardmen's expressions registered surprise, their smiles an alien mimicry of human emotion, as they recognized his strength. Armed and alert, Sinclair followed them, the Sand Viper Strike beckoning him into the unknown.
As Sinclair followed the lizardmen towards the valley, the anticipation within him grew. The faint outline of something massive stirred beyond the sand dunes, sending a thrill of excitement down his spine. A deep, guttural roar reverberated through the air, stirring a primal energy within him. This was where he belonged, amid the raw exhilaration of battle.
Approaching the sand dragon, Sinclair couldn't help but feel awed. The creature, towering over fifteen feet at the shoulder, was a formidable sight. Its pebbled, dark brown skin blended with the sandy terrain, while its massive head and razor-sharp teeth gleamed menacingly in the surreal sunlight.
He observed the lizardmen as they engaged in combat, their movements fluid and coordinated, a dance of deadly precision. When they signaled him to join, positioning him near the creature's flank, Sinclair felt a rush of adrenaline. This wasn't just a test of skill but a trial by fire, demanding all his combat experience and instinct.
Melding his movements with the lizardmen, Sinclair found his rhythm in the chaos of battle. Each precise step and well-timed strike seemed to resonate with an inner magic, guiding him towards a crescendo of power. His spear began to radiate a brilliant white heat, becoming an extension of his own fierce determination.
At the height of the battle, with the Sand Dragon's heart exposed, Sinclair seized the moment. With a surge of energy, he lunged forward, his spear piercing the dragon's heart with unerring accuracy. The massive beast shuddered, its colossal form beginning a slow, inevitable descent to the ground.
As the dragon collapsed, the only sound Sinclair heard was the satisfying 'ding' of a new skill acquired, followed by a wave of euphoria. Task completed, skill mastered – he had conquered the Sand Viper Strike.
Sand Viper Strike (Rare) - This skill enables the user to mimic the swift, penetrating strike of a desert viper, applicable to any weapon. When activated, the user's weapon gains the ability to pierce through armor or scales with enhanced velocity and precision. The skill involves a rapid lunging motion, where the user focuses their strength and speed into a single, devastating blow, aiming for weak points in the enemy's defense. The technique is especially effective against larger foes, allowing the user to exploit their size and slower movements.
Turning to thank the Lizard men he found them already moving on to their next destination. He stood there and watched them for a minute marveling at the realistic nature of these training events.
The walls faded back in and Sinclair found himself back in the white room from the beginning as expected. Pulling up his screen to check how long he had been in here he noticed that 4 hours had passed in that latest test. Between the three new skills he had went through obtaining he had stayed in here a little over 10 hours according to his clock.
Scrolling down on the screen he found a button that would teleport him out. He needed to talk to Turgrin and see if he would take over as Curator. He also had to let the council know what he needed in regards to a building for the portal access. With a new sigh for his expanding needs he pressed the button and teleported back to Wolf's Run.