Circling to the Algiz door, Sinclair studied the runes engraved upon its surface, contemplating the nature of the challenge that lay ahead. How exactly would courage and protection be tested? More importantly, how had the system designed this particular test? Would he be required to shield someone or something? Perhaps a treasured artifact, a place of importance, or a defenseless individual? The ambiguity was maddening. Sinclair always preferred having a clear picture before diving into any situation. But this mysterious environment seemed to thrive on uncertainty.
With a deep breath, he selected Algiz and crossed the threshold. Instantly, a chilling mountain pass materialized around him. Snow, whipped by fierce gusts, whirled in dizzying eddies before cascading downhill. Tracing its path, he spotted a tranquil village nestled at the mountain's base. Its homes, dwarfed by towering, ink-black trees, seemed especially vulnerable against the backdrop of the imposing mountain range.
A shiver ran down Sinclair's spine, and not just from the cold. An unsettling premonition crept over him, hinting at the forthcoming trial. As he pivoted to survey the narrow mountain passage behind him, a prompt shimmered into existence, demanding his attention.
System Message - Algiz - Path of the Protector
Quest Objective: Stand firm and defend the village against an imminent Draugr onslaught. The village guards are few, and although reinforcements are on their way, they won't arrive in time to prevent the initial attack. Your bravery and resilience are the village's last line of defense.
Rewards: Your endurance will not go unrewarded. The longer you successfully defend the village, the greater your reward will be. Prepare yourself – the Draugr horde approaches, and the fate of the village rests in your hands.
A wave of apprehension swept over Sinclair, as intense and unyielding as a landslide. The weight of responsibility pressed down on him; those people in the village were relying on his protection. The stakes had skyrocketed in a matter of moments, leaving him reeling. Had he chosen the most challenging door? Or were the alternatives equally daunting?
As anxiety threatened to consume him, Sinclair recognized the need to center himself. Seeking a flat patch of ground amidst the pass, he settled down to meditate. He focused on his breathing, letting the cold mountain air fill his lungs, and then slowly exhaled his worries with each breath. Once his mind had stilled, two pertinent questions emerged from the clarity, overshadowing all other panic-induced inquiries.
1. Should I proceed deeper into the pass? Most likely. The narrow path would keep how many creatures could attack me at once. I should use my smaller axes to start with and see if the damage was enough.
2. How long did I have to fight? No time limit was given just that help was coming but was running behind. Conserve stamina and don't take chances.
Standing up he withdrew his two axes from storage and started slowly walking into the pass. One foot in front of the other he slid forward. The path started curving back in on itself leaving him just enough room he could swing up and down but not much more than a forty five degree angle to the sides or he risked hitting the wall. He was fifty feet into the pass and rounded a corner to see his first enemy shambling his way. He quickly cast his analyze skill to see what he was dealing with.
Draugr Lvl 2
Health 75/75
Description: In Norse mythology, the Draugr is a fearsome undead warrior. These reanimated corpses, clad in decaying armor, guard their burial sites with supernatural strength and infinite stamina. Their ghastly form is vulnerable to fire and suffers more damage from blunt force. Draugrs, with eyes glowing like dying embers of blue flames, are known for their malevolence often wielding elemental powers of cold and death.
Before Sinclair stood a creature reminiscent of the undead, its appearance heightened in its eeriness by armor that cloaked its decaying form. But what truly sent a shiver down Sinclair's spine were its piercing blue eyes, which glinted with an unnatural luminescence. Steeling himself, he flexed his shoulders, preparing to engage this abomination.
Sinclair glided into position, carefully gauging the distance. Then, harnessing all his might, he swung his right arm down, targeting the creature's skull. The impact was resonant, the sound of bone shattering echoed as the axe embedded itself from the cheekbone to the top of the skull, disfiguring half its face. Gratefully, his axe didn't lodge itself as it sometimes frustratingly did with the tenacious wood of a hickory stump. Taking a step back to assess the damage, Sinclair scrutinized the Draugr, searching for an indication of the inflicted harm.
This particular adversary, though menacing in appearance, moved with a ponderous, almost clumsy gait. Sinclair nimbly dodged its feeble attempts at retaliation, all the while delivering decisive blows with his axe. The axe was definitely not the weapon to fight the undead with he thought.
If he could hit like that again he would kill the monster. He noticed that the overpowered swing like that had caused him to lose fourteen points of stamina. There was no risk of him running out anytime soon but this was going to be a battle of attrition if the prompt was anything to go by. Stepping back up he slammed his offhand axe into the other side of the creatures head for an additional 20 damage. He wasn’t as strong on that side so it made sense he didn’t cause as much damage. Quickly following back up with his right hand he finally dropped the Draugr into a pile at his feet. Watching the light fade in its eyes he noticed more orbs of blue in his periphery sliding open. Killing one must have been a dinner bell to the others behind it.
With a newfound confidence lighting up his eyes, Sinclair strode forward, eager to unleash chaos in the narrow mountain pass. While the reality of the villagers behind him remained uncertain—whether they were tangible beings or mere constructs of the system—it mattered little. He felt compelled to protect them. His heart, ever the guide, left no room for any other course of action.
Sinclair's proficiency with the axe was, admittedly, rudimentary at best. His expertise lay in chopping firewood and taking playful swings at imagined adversaries back on his farm. But for the present moment, that rudimentary skill was all he had, and it would have to suffice until he had the opportunity for further training.
After twenty minutes of relentless combat, Sinclair began to feel the exertion. His heart pounded vigorously, and his breaths grew heavy. The Draugr, despite their slow, almost clumsy approach, maintained their persistent advance, seemingly unfazed by their fallen comrades. And although Sinclair had managed to hold his ground, their sheer numbers slowly forced him to retreat.
The tight confines of the pass meant his swings needed room, and the creeping realization dawned upon him: if he were pushed back to the starting point, he'd be vulnerable to their overwhelming numbers. Time was of the essence. With each swing, he hoped not only to fend them off but to earn the invaluable experience that would undoubtedly be his reward post-battle.
As Sinclair engaged with the Draugr, he noted their levels varied slightly, ranging from 2 to 4. Gradually, he encountered fewer of the level 2 creatures. Their health points fluctuated around seventy-five, with some variation of ten to fifteen points either way. Despite the ongoing battle, Sinclair's stamina remained at three-quarters, and the single scratch he had sustained was already healing.
However, the increasing density of the advancing Draugr soon posed a significant challenge. Their tightly packed formations and sheer mass began to push him out from the narrow confines of the pass and into an expansive open area. The situation grew more complex as he faced two of these formidable creatures at once. Though their movements were clumsy and sometimes counterproductive, hindering each other, Sinclair was forced to adapt. He switched from the potent, decisive strikes he preferred to quicker, more measured attacks, ensuring he kept the upper hand while adjusting to the evolving dynamics of the battlefield.
Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed a flurry of activity in the village. Figures darted about, their actions blurred by distance, rendering it impossible for him to discern their intentions. An earnest plea for reinforcements bubbled up within him, but he also harbored a selfish desire: a substantial reward awaited his relentless efforts. And so, with a wry smirk, he hoped those reinforcements would take their time—just not too long.
He was up to three and four Draugr at a time now. They had also increased to all level 3 with some level 5 dotting the rows. He fought faster and faster. Swinging harder and harder. His stamina was dropping point by point. If it wasn’t for his traits and stat training he would be incredibly worse off right now. He silently thanked the system for that annoying stone challenge and the constant damage he had to endure from the little canids there. He was starting to sport some gashes on his hands where they were not covered. His jacket had seen better days at this point. It protected him from their sharp fingers but the damage was starting to get through the leather. He could feel the blood dripping from some of the deeper wounds.
The distant blare of a horn resonated through the chilling air, igniting a flicker of hope within Sinclair. It appeared the villagers had rallied and were now en route to his aid. He could only pray their timing was impeccable. His stamina was depleted to a precarious thirty percent, and wounds had shaved his health to half. A pattern was emerging in these trials: they tested not just his skills, but also pushed him to his utmost limits. Though he had only faced two such trials, he was convinced this grueling rigor would be a recurring motif.
An hour of relentless combat had left its mark on Sinclair. Now, during this brief respite, the eerie glow of more eyes lingered in the shadows. They hesitated, perhaps calculating their next move in the murky gloom. Making use of this momentary lull, Sinclair propped his axes against his thighs, ravenously devoured a trail bar, and quenched his thirst. Hastily, he rinsed the obscuring blood from his eyes. A nick to his scalp, notorious for its copious bleeding, had almost blinded him during an earlier skirmish—a misstep that could've proven fatal.
A distinct pair of eyes, placed noticeably higher than the rest, began approaching. Their elevation increased as the distance closed. Sinclair surmised, "Must be a boss battle." The timing felt appropriate, and this encounter promised to be uniquely challenging. He steeled himself. There was a village to defend, treasures to uncover, and a reputation to uphold. Adrenaline surged, numbing him to the bone-chilling wind. As the moonlight draped over him, his silhouette appeared almost ethereal amidst the fallen, a lone figure standing resolute, covered in gore—looking every bit the menacing guardian of the pass. If any villagers chanced upon this sight, they might believe they were witnessing a daemon warding off the darkness.
Gathering himself, Sinclair hoisted his axes and deftly maneuvered through the maze of fallen adversaries, making his way to the entrance of the pass. Opting for more heft, he traded his twin weapons for his sizable felling axe. A sentiment arose: for a towering enemy, a mightier axe was requisite. As the beast neared, unsettling details came into focus, eliciting a foreboding dread within Sinclair. Most disconcerting was the creature's blade, signaling a foe adept in combat. Yet, the real shock was when it halted a mere fifteen feet away and, in a gravelly yet hushed tone, began to converse.
"Who dares obstruct us?" the creature rasped. "How did you discern our approach? Speak swiftly, lest my patience wanes. Step aside, or face your demise."
Sinclair stood rooted, baffled. It was as if he was witnessing a feline discourse in human tongue. Paralyzed by this anomaly, he could only stare agape as the monstrous being continued its soliloquy.
"The hoard is imminent, sealing your fate," the creature intoned. "Your valor today was commendable. It’s tragic to squander such prowess. Relinquish your stance, allow us to seize this village, and you will be granted a prestigious rank within our legions. Defy me, and I promise an end so brutal, your remains will languish, forgotten, in this forsaken ground."
Sinclair's initial shock ebbed, replaced by a bubbling fury. The audacity of this grotesque, undead behemoth to demand submission! He wasn't some feeble pushover, a mere pebble in this creature's path. While new to this realm and its challenges, he felt a profound duty towards those he vowed to protect. The blurry line distinguishing reality from simulation blurred further; it ceased to matter. Sinclair wasn’t about to be cowed or demeaned by this monster's overtures. His resolve, now unshakable, was clear: he would not falter. "If you want them come and claim them!"
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While he had been talking he had moved his large axe to his left hand and equipped his smaller axe to the right hand. On the last word of his declaration he whipped that axe as hard as he could directly at the monsters face. Charging in right behind the axe with his felling axe raised up and ready he fired off a analyze real quick
Draugr Captain lvl 9
Health 315\315
Mana 150\150
Description: The Draugr Captain, a menacing presence among the undead, is distinguished by its tattered, ancient armor and a ghostly aura of authority. More intelligent and strategic than ordinary Draugr, it coordinates attacks with chilling efficiency. Its eyes glow with a sinister light, signaling a heightened awareness. Unlike its erratic kin, the Captain moves deliberately, posing a formidable challenge with its enhanced strength and resilience. Vulnerable to fire and blunt force, this undead tactician symbolizes the undying grip of past warriors, commanding its legion with eerie, silent authority.
Sinclair's axe, hurled with the power of his enhanced strength, spun in the cold air, its trajectory almost perfectly aimed at the Draugr. Though it nearly missed, the Draugr's delayed reaction meant that the axe, instead of going astray, buried itself deep into the creature's shoulder joint. While it didn't sever the limb, it was clear the arm would be rendered useless. Riding the momentum, Sinclair darted forward, unleashing a powerful swing from his felling axe. The blow felt as though he had struck an ironwood tree, causing a painful reverberation up his arms. He hastily tried to follow up, but was caught off-guard. The Draugr, displaying uncanny speed—likely due to some latent skill—lunged at Sinclair, smashing into him with its uninjured shoulder.
Sinclair tumbled across the ground, disoriented and gasping for breath. The menacing sound of the Draugr's advance filled his ears. With a powerful thrust against the ground, Sinclair launched himself into the air, narrowly avoiding the blade that sought to cleave him in two. Seizing the momentary advantage, he brought his axe down with ferocity, finally severing the Draugr's wounded arm. Yet, the creature's surprise attack had exacted a heavy toll, robbing Sinclair of a significant portion of his health. Unable to rely on rapid moves he lacked, Sinclair steadied himself, recalling the battle cry of a beloved comic hero: "Maximum Effort."
He had to immobilize this monster. Who knows how long it had been using a sword and was guaranteed to be a better skilled fighter than him. So, luck and abnormally high stats were going to be his crutch. Thanks to his skills the pain was minimal or he was sure that tumble would have left him unable to get up which would have meant a critical strike for the Draugr. He still didn’t have any mana skills so magic wasn’t going to be able to help him here it looked like.
The Draugr advanced, sword held across its body in a diagonal line. Ready to deflect an incoming strike leaving the best angles for a riposte. Firing off another analyze Sinclair could see the Draugr was down over half its health points. Another problem was becoming apparent. The other smaller Draugr were starting to come out of the pass opening now too. He had to end this quickly or he was going to be drowned in enemies. He seriously doubted that these zombies intended for any of this to be an honorable duel.
He was pretty sure he had heard in a movie somewhere that the best defense was a good offense. Better start swinging then he thought. Those reinforcements better get here soon. Stepping in toward the Captain be prepped his swing for a horizontal slash. The Captain raised its sword to block and had to turn its body some to provide better leverage. This provided a small window where Sinclair turned the axe head slightly and tilted the base of the handle letting the axe head rock back towards himself and right by the sword blade. Doing this allowed him to choke up on the axe as it passed the sword and lunging forward he drove the blade into the neck of the Draugr Captain. The Captain stumbled off to the side but not before taking a swipe at Sinclair's backside as he flew past him.
Sinclair had thought he knew pain from the Boneheads hitting him over and over. A sword across his back was a different thing entirely. It took a second for his skill Pain Tolerance to kick in and mute the pain a little. It still felt like someone had poured boiling hot water down his back. He stumbled forward without a weapon in his hands only to rebound off the wall of Draugr before him. He pushed back from them taking a few injuries as he turned equipping his last small axe. As quickly as he could he stumbled over to the Captain who was bent over on one knee trying to get up. In the last second as he walked up the Captain looked up at Sinclair with a bright hatred on his face. Before he could utter one word Sinclair fell forward with all his might behind the one axe he could find shattering the Captains skull.
He overbalanced in the heat of battle, tumbling down to land heavily atop the fallen Draugr Captain. Each breath was a panting wince of pain. He knew he had to stand up; more Draugr were coming. He vaguely recalled the sound of a distant horn, but it seemed far away. With effort, he dragged himself to his feet, confronting the small horde of Draugr with their haunting blue eyes. A sense of despair washed over him. Could he really overcome this overwhelming challenge? It looked like he might fail.
Gritting his teeth, Sinclair tightened his grip on his axe, standing tall despite his weariness. "If I fall, I fall," he thought determinedly, "but not without giving everything I have." His mind was calm amid the storm of battle. As he took a step forward, so did the Draugr. Letting out a battle cry, he charged, swinging his axe with all his might, cleaving two skulls in his initial onslaught.
Carrying the rock had been tough, but this fight was a relentless nightmare of grunts, curses, and the shrill screams of pain from wounds inflicted. The Draugr were unarmed, yet their sharp claws and teeth were weapons in their own right. Sinclair found himself increasingly encircled, the sheer number of enemies slowly forcing him to his knees.
"NO!" The defiant shout echoed only within Sinclair's mind, a relentless mantra. "I WILL NOT FAIL THESE PEOPLE!" That now-familiar fire surged within his chest, an intense energy seeking release. He felt its path down his arm, pooling in his clenched fist before bouncing back, desperate for an outlet. In his peril, an idea sparked: perhaps he could channel this newfound power. In the chaos, as an undead warrior's fist struck his head and he stumbled over a fallen Draugr, Sinclair willed the force outwards, guiding it down his arm and through his axe.
The response was immediate and overwhelming. His axe seemed to absorb the energy, its blade igniting with a vibrant, glowing red. It didn't stop there; the blade's luminosity expanded, extending far beyond its physical confines and creating a radiant arc that swiped around him. Draugrs in close proximity simply collapsed, as if an unseen force had severed their very lifelines.
From his position on the ground, gazing upward in wonder, Sinclair was struck by a realization: he had just executed his inaugural spell. And not just any spell, but one reminiscent of the cleave ability he had often admired in his favorite RPG games.
Yet, for all the exhilaration of his newfound ability, he was surrounded by a menacing circle of more than ten Draugr. Unified in intent, they lunged towards him. But Sinclair, his teeth stained with his own blood, grinned defiantly. He fought back with a ferocity he never knew he possessed, every punch, kick, and skull-crushing blow reminiscent of a barbarian warrior from ancient tales. Even in the face of overwhelming odds, he found a fierce joy he had never experienced before.
*****
“What happened here? There are so many bodies.”
“Do you think he did this all by himself?”
“The gods still watch out for us it seems. They sent us one of their champions to protect our village while our warriors gathered”
…… He could hear people muttering and talking back and forth but he hurt really bad all over and did not want to open his eyes. The groan he let out probably gave him away though.
“Get back he is waking up. Get the Jarl over here and any healer we have.”
Opening his eyes he could see smoke off to his right a little ways. Around him ranged several humans dressed in armour all staring at him like he was a talking bear. One of them stepped forward offering him a hand up. He gratefully took it knowing that he did not have the motivation to get up right now. His literal everything hurt. This tutorial thing was no joke. When were introductions supposed to be so painful?
“Ah, back on your feet I see. I don’t know where you come from stranger but you saved my village and family. We are in your debt warrior. My name is Jarl Hrondir. Drink some water and take food while you rest. My men need to clean up the rest of these bodies. They will be over here for you to collect your loot.”
Slowly, Sinclair nodded his head reaching for the water and taking a sip before trying to speak, “Thank you. It looks like you got here in time. I wasn’t sure how long it was going to take before reinforcements got here. The system messages didn’t tell me just that I got to choose how long to fight here.”
“The Gods really did send you then? Praise to the All Father. We got here right after whatever that blast of red magic was. We were just coming over the last hill and fell on them from behind.”
“I am glad you did. The Draugr Captain really kicked my ass. I barely got him down only for his stragglers to catch me when I was injured” Internally Sinclair was having a field day now. He was having a casual conversation about fighting off Draugr with what appeared to be a Viking. Trying to remain calm and not seem like a fangirl he looked around for his gear. Looking where he had fallen he couldn’t see any of his axes. He had one left but the twin to it and the felling axe were nowhere to be seen.
The Jarl noticing him searching went ahead and let him know the bad news. “If you are looking for your axes I have some bad news. The felling axe broke its’s handle and chipped the blade pretty badly. The smaller hand axe had it’s handle warped and the blade itself was ruined beyond repair. I am not sure how that happened since it would take a lot of force to outright destroy an axe head.”
Seeing the crestfallen look on Sinclair's face the Jarl made him an offer. “If you will leave us the pieces from your axes including that one in your hand I will replace them from my own store of personal weapons.” Not believing his luck. Those weapons were store bought. Yea, they did a job decently enough. But, that last fight showed him he was going to be going through quite a bit of equipment fighting up front like this. What else could he do but graciously agree.
“Thank you, Jarl. That would be most kind. I have many more places to go before the Gods let me rest”
What he was really thinking was without replacements he would have had to finish this test and teleport home for twenty four Earth hours, gather more weapons, and then come back to continue on to the next door. He had only been part of the system just under 5 days from his point of view.
He could go back to the staging area and sit to meditate while looking over his notifications and stat window there. He didn’t really want everyone looking at him like he was crazy when he started mumbling at things midair that no one else could see. He wondered if these people had window access like him but did not know how to ask.
The Jarl come over from supervising his men carrying a bundle under one arm. Handing them over he stated “I brought my extra weapons with me since I like to fight with axes too when not using the sword and shield. You can have this even though it is a poor repayment for doing what you did.”
Taking the bundle from the Jarl he unwrapped them to find two axes that looked like oversized tomahawks. They both had beautiful scrollwork down the handles and bronze inlay on the blades that looked like a wolf with its mouth opening, spitting out the blade. The larger axe beneath them was even more monstrous than he expected. It was four feet long with a leather wrapped handle and the same scrollwork the smaller axes had. The blade on this one was shaped like one of the bearded axes he saw at the ren faire a few months ago. Brimming with excitement he graciously accepted them. He was going to identify them as soon as he got back in the staging area.
“Jarl Hrondir you honor me with this gift. I am glad I could be of service to you and your people. I must return to my world now so don’t be alarmed when I disappear. The Gods are calling me home now. Good luck to you and your men”
“Safe travels young warrior. If you ever come this way again don’t hesitate to find us.” Jarl Hrondir turned to get back to work as the traveler faded from view. He could have sworn there was a small chest at the feet of that strangely dressed warrior before he disappeared. It was very quick so he couldn’t be sure, he loved those weapons but he loved his family even more. Hopefully the weapons he offered would make a difference in someone else’s lives.
***
Heroti/Kafor
Looking through the logs Kafor and Heroti had noticed strings of mana being played out from one of the stronger remaining nodes that were still "operational". If one could call those power levels operational. Every time there was a change in their tutorial a pulse emanated from that location. It was shielded so they could not see into the area. But, something was there and it was messing with their experiment. They had launched the other nodes already and they had just landed in their spots digging down to below the crust of the planet. It would take a few more days before they would be in place and start mapping their pathways out. One of the node replacements was going in not far from the anomaly they had spotted.
Apparently this planet had beings on it that resided in the mana. It looked like perhaps there was a war here at some point that damaged or destroyed the nodes and lay lines enough they started leaking and were no longer able to repair themselves. This planet was getting more and more interesting.
They watched as Sinclair finished the second door of the Tutorial. There was no record they could find of someone gaining stats and skills this fast on a newly seeded planet. It was normally a slow build as mana was saturating the area. This human they found was truly capable of some amazing feats. Excited to see what else he had coming up they got back to reading logs and trying to circumvent the shielding that was hiding the beings responsible for their Tutorial changes.