Hearing a branch moan like it was about to snap he glanced over the direction of the noise. At the tree line this thing stood up leaving its eyes just below the bottom branches. It had to be every bit of 9 feet tall. Muscled shoulders and big extended belly. It walked forward in the moon light sniffing at the air. Dragging a large club behind itself. Sinclair was trying really hard not to piss himself at this point. He identified it just in case it was actually low leveled and he stood a chance.
Monster: Ogre
Lvl: 15
Health: 1300\1300
Description: This particular breed of Ogres is a rare sight under the sun's rays, as they predominantly dwell in shadowed, secluded areas. Characterized by their limited intelligence, these creatures often act on primal instincts and are prone to fits of uncontrollable rage. Their diet is indiscriminate, consisting of almost anything they can overpower and devour.
Ogres in this category are massive, with hulking frames and muscular builds that give them a menacing presence. Their skin is tough and leathery, often covered in scars and marks from their frequent skirmishes. Despite their formidable size and strength, these Ogres are known for their sluggishness and lack of agility, relying more on brute force than finesse in combat.
Seeing the stats of the Ogre answered that questions on whether or not he could take the monster. He was really hoping to grab however many cubs remained and scoot the hell out of there. He had a few spears and javelins from the goblin, no armour, and no clothes. This was not the way to take on a monster higher level than you. Try as he might though there was a piece of him that wanted nothing more than to walk up to the monster and punch it square in the loincloth. The XP alone from something like that would be fairly worth it.
As fate would have it he didn’t get a choice in the matter. The cubs took that moment to make some noises and stick their nose out of the hole keening over their dead parents. The ogres head jerked up aligning with the small opening. Cussing to himself Sinclair prepared himself for a lot of pain. Picking up two of the javelins, he threw them center mass as hard as possible. The javelins scream across the field one after the other punching into the Ogre just past the socket of the blade. This was going to be a tough fight. The ogre must have some really tough skin if the only damage he did was about 8 inches deep.
The ogre taking note of the impacts brushed the front of itself dislodging one and breaking the shaft of the other. At least it has some ongoing bleed damage he thought. Sinclair looked over and made eye contact with the one wolf cub that was peering out of the hole. They made eye contact for only a split second but it was like lightning to his nerves. His chest which was already hotter than he figured was safe suddenly settled down and felt right for a lack of a better description.
This Ogre was going to eat him if he didn’t take care of business. He took one step and the little cub leaned his head back and howled. The sounds washed over Sinclair like a cleansing rain after a hard day's work cutting logs. He felt strong, he felt fast, and he was pissed off.
Picking up his last two javelins while the monster had stopped for a second, he launched those as well one aiming a little higher hoping for something critical and another lower hoping for the super critical prize all males would cry about being hit. Sadly only one of his javelins was super effective. The first javelin hit low in the belly tearing a line across the hip causing the Ogre to lean forward where the other javelin sailed right through the muscle tearing a large hole through the monster making it let out a large bellow of anger. It’s health had only dropped down 450 points at this rate but it was progress.
Picking up the strongest looking spear he could find he leapt towards the ogre like the barbarian in his computer games he played so much as a kid. What they didn’t tell you or show you was that when air borne you were not able to swerve, duck, dodge, or generally anything that kept you from getting hit.
He took a solid hit to his side from the shaft of the weapon. Sailing through the air he could definitely feel the blood building in his chest so he probably broke a rib at the least. This fight was not going well. Hitting the ground and feeling a sharp pain in his chest again, was not a good sign. It didn’t feel like the ends of bone grinding against each other. But, they did feel like they weren't exactly where they were supposed to be. That blow alone had dropped him 320 points of health. No armour and caught while unable to absorb any damage was bound to carry a bad penalty to it. Remembering he did have one skill he could use and the spear he had once he analyzed it showed it was a bladed spear so it should qualify for using Cleave.
Sinclair could see this red haze crowding his vision making it seem like looking down a red tunnel. He could only focus on the Ogre. Rolling to his feet clutching his spear he sprinted at the Ogre, spear swung back like a baseball bat he was prepared to swing like Babe Ruth did knocking down home runs. Thinking he really should have practiced using his Cleave skill before having to do it in the middle of a fight. He could feel the energy inside of him responding to his wishes as it rolled down his arms and started transferring to the spear. Step by thundering step he approached the Ogre fully intent on giving this swing every bit of his energy he could. The spear was starting to glow rapidly brighter and brighter. An Orange so bright it was white in the center of the blade descended on the ogres right shoulder. There was a tearing sensation and snap that sounded like a gun shot. That was last thing he remembered before darkness claimed him.
*****
A wet tongue prodded his cheek, persistent and gentle, as if questioning, "Are you alright in there?" Startled, Sinclair jerked upright, only to immediately collapse back, pain searing from his broken ribs and the latent damage from the explosion. He mentally berated himself for such a hasty move.
Glancing down, he noted the scorched and splintered remnants of the spear shaft clutched in his hand. Cautiously, he cast his gaze towards where he believed the Ogre had been. The aftermath of his attack was evident: the colossal creature appeared almost cleaved in two. The blinking orange of his health bar and his depleted mana gauge didn't escape his attention. But now, with consciousness regained, he felt the familiar sensation of his regenerative abilities kicking in. He made a mental note: when unconscious, either his regeneration abilities were drastically reduced or altogether halted—a tidbit he hoped he wouldn’t need to confirm in future confrontations.
Sinclair chose to recline, allowing his system stats to recharge. However, his reprieve was soon interrupted by an inquisitive presence. Turning his head, he was met with the curious gaze of a wolf cub, their eyes locked in mutual fascination. As a tentative gesture of trust, Sinclair stretched out an arm, inviting the young creature to familiarize itself with his scent. The cub, though appearing somewhat diminutive at first glance, was larger than anticipated. Measuring perhaps two feet at the shoulder, the creature confidently approached, nosing and eventually licking Sinclair's palm before resting its weighty head in his hand. Although its appearance bore youthful traits, its behavior suggested an uncanny intelligence. It seemed to recognize Sinclair as its savior and had approached with a kind of knowing trust.
Sinclair indulged in a gentle exploration of the cub's fur, delighting in its soft texture. This ethereal vision was unlike anything he had experienced; its vividness was unparalleled. From his vantage point, he could see another, leaner cub cautiously peeking from a nearby cave, its sleek form a contrast to its bulkier sibling beside him.
But the serenity of the moment was tempered by a residual warmth emanating from his chest. This sensation wasn't painful per se but felt more like a persistent pressure. As he ran his fingers over the area, he detected subtle ridges reminiscent of aged scars. Reflecting upon the previous night's mysterious afflictions, he felt a twinge of concern. Were these new marks somehow interconnected? Lacking a mirror, he could only speculate.
Pushing these ponderings aside, he determined it was time to venture onward. Perhaps there was a chance to procure some loot from his recent combat, even if it was all just an illusion. Rising gingerly to his feet, mindful of his tender ribs, he was joined by the dark-furred cub that strolled alongside him, their strides syncing harmoniously.
Upon approaching the other cub, he noted it was mostly white with some flecks of bear brown, but with a slender grace. She regarded Sinclair with mild suspicion, neither retreating nor advancing. Crouching slowly, he beckoned the shy creature with a soothing tone. As it timidly stepped closer, it suddenly lunged, playfully knocking him off balance. Sinclair landed with a thud, pain flaring in his ribs. As he regained his posture, he caught the impish gleam in the cub's eyes, realizing he'd been utterly bamboozled by the mischievous creature.
Chuckling at the playful antics of the young wolf, Sinclair remarked with a hint of jest, "You little rascal," as he tenderly scratched her behind the ear. He pushed himself upright, every movement causing a fresh wave of pain.
The melancholy scene of the deceased adult wolves brought a sobering mood. Their still forms lay undisturbed as their young ones circled them, their snouts brushing against the cold fur, seeking warmth that was no longer there. Sinclair approached the makeshift den, a slight depression formed by the uprooted base of a colossal tree, most likely toppled during a fierce storm. The earth around it had the damp scent of recent rain, mixed with the metallic tang of blood from the earlier skirmish.
Speaking in hushed, comforting tones to the wolf cubs, Sinclair gently arranged the fallen wolves within the den, paying his final respects. Although he lacked the proper tools, the remaining spear's sharp edge served as a makeshift spade. With deliberate care, he dragged damp, clay-rich soil over the entrance, forming a protective barrier.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
With the somber task behind him, Sinclair leaned heavily on the spear, repurposed as a walking stick, and began his search among the fallen foes. The convenience of a mass loot system was a blessing; a simple touch allowed him to swiftly gather what little valuables the goblins possessed. He was keen to move on, the weight of the recent confrontation pressing on his mind and urging him to find a safer sanctuary.
Goblin loot x10
4 silver coins
1 spear
2 javelins
Walking over to the Ogre he about gagged at the smell of perforated bowels. It was a mess. He gave up on searching the body and just reached down to tag its foot looting the monster.
Ogre x 1
65 silver coins
fire hardened club (two handed)
Loin Clothe
He noticed that he got another blinking notification that was waiting for him. It looked different than the standard notifications so he opened just it.
Title Earned: Vǫrðr's Valor
Description: Bestowed upon those who have displayed extraordinary bravery, Vǫrðr's Valor is a title of honor that harks back to the guardians in Norse mythology, known as Vǫrðr, who watched over warriors. This prestigious title is reserved for those who have vanquished an adversary significantly more powerful than themselves, specifically one who stands 10 levels higher.
Attributes:
Stat Boost: Earning this title signifies not only a physical triumph but also a growth in personal prowess, granting a +5 increase to all stats. This enhancement reflects the holistic development of the warrior's strength, agility, wisdom, and other attributes in the heat of an arduous battle.
Lore Connection: In Norse culture, to be deemed courageous by one's peers was a high honor. Vǫrðr's Valor carries the weight of this tradition, marking the recipient as a warrior of exceptional courage, worthy of songs and sagas. It embodies the spirit of the Norse guardians, inspiring awe and respect across the realms.
His skill for languages thankfully helped with words he was not familiar with. Vǫrðr was pronounced warduz. There was no audio files to go with the information. It was just here in his mind readily available like he had been a native speaker all his life.
With a pained grimace, Sinclair used the shards of the spear to push the loin cloth away from the other items in front of him. Though it was fresh from the loot and not worn by the Ogre, Sinclair found it distasteful. It resembled an oversized diaper, and by this point, Sinclair had become somewhat accustomed to his unclothed state. However, the layers of blood and grime marring his skin made it a stretch to even call it 'naked'. A bath in the nearby stream seemed to be a pressing necessity.
Concluding his looting spree, Sinclair decided to retreat to the familiarity of the hut. With his injuries and the gnawing sensation of the debuff, it felt prudent to find safer grounds, especially for the wolf pups that seemed attached to him now. The enigmatic pull in his chest had subsided, but when he gazed down, intricate lines now connected some of the raised bumps. Eager to decipher the mystery, he looked forward to perusing his status screens in the sanctuary of the staging area.
With a pup flanking each side, Sinclair retraced his steps towards the original clearing. The trail was unmistakable, marked by broken branches and a straightforward path that bore the signs of his frenzied dash earlier. But when he reached the stream, he paused, taken aback. The hut and the old guide were unexpectedly on the opposite bank. The elderly figure sat tranquilly outside the hut, gazing up at the vast tapestry of stars. Noticing Sinclair's approach, the guide's eyes twinkled with amusement, and he called out, “Freshen up, Young Wolf. Once you're presentable, we'll converse.”
Sinclair, savoring his newfound cleanliness, couldn't suppress a chuckle at the cubs' antics. Their youthful exuberance, set against the backdrop of the perilous journey they'd just survived, provided a brief and much-needed moment of levity. The stars above seemed to shimmer more brightly as if they too were entertained by the wolves' playful display.
His gaze returned to the old guide, who had been observing the scene with a hint of mirth in his weathered eyes. The guide's beard, snow white with small threads of black, bristled as he broke into a smile. The lines on his face deepened as he chortled softly, evidently sharing in Sinclair's amusement at the pups' water escapades.
"Glad to see spirits aren't dampened," the guide remarked, his voice a rich, earthy timbre that seemed to harmonize with the ambient sounds of the night. "The resilience of youth, whether it be man or beast, is a wonder in itself. But come, there are matters we must discuss."
Nodding in agreement, Sinclair approached the hut, the damp ground squelching beneath his bare feet. The two cubs, now seemingly content with their water-filled adventure, trotted close behind, their wet fur glistening in the moonlight, epitomizing the raw and unpredictable beauty of the wilderness.
Sinclair, smoothing the fur at the back of the cubs' heads, stood and approached the Guide, taking a seat opposite the venerable figure. The Guide appeared lost in contemplation, gazing skyward, seemingly detached from the immediate surroundings. Impatience nipping at him, Sinclair broke the silence. "That was... enlightening, to say the least. Was that the definitive test for my path? And if so, which path am I set upon?"
Lowering his eyes from the expansive night sky, the Guide fixed Sinclair with a look that seemed as ancient as time itself. "Your journey," he began, his voice echoing like the rustle of wind through autumn leaves, "is a living, breathing entity, growing and evolving with every step you take, every challenge you face. This test was more than a mere trial; it was a reflection of your very soul. Stripped of weapons and armor, you chose bravery over fear, putting the safety of others before your own. Confronting the Ogre, a beast of immense power, you stood unshaken, demonstrating remarkable tenacity and bravery."
"After the trial, your actions spoke volumes of your respect for life – caring for the young and honoring those who had fallen. You've shown a heart that is both courageous and compassionate. Your unwavering moral compass, even in the gravest of situations, has laid the foundation of your path. The title 'Young Wolf,' now etched upon your chest, is more than a name. It's a symbol of enduring strength and virtue, a mark that has not graced your world since the Sundering."
Sinclair's eye brows were slowly climbing up his forehead. So the lines on his chest he could see part of formed a wolf. “That is a lot to take in. Thank you for watching over my body.”
Grunting a little the guide looked Sinclair in the face “Look at your hand. Your ring has been there the entire time. You could have put clothes and armour on at any time. The drink and mushrooms were to make you blind to it and open your mind so the unfiltered version of you could be expressed.” Snapping his vision down to the hand he wore his storage ring on he saw it sitting there plain as day now. Pulling up his inventory he threw his previous clothes on so he had something covering his unmentionables. “That’s weird but makes a certain kind of sense. So if all this was real how do I leave to go back to my world? And what happens to the cubs?”
The Guide looked over at the two cubs who were laying down on either side of Sinclair he spoke calmly but directly to them “Little Ones what is your wish in this matter? Go or stay?” He cocked his head to the side a little and looked back and forth between the two a little before looking back up at Sinclair. “They wish to travel with you. They say they owe you a debt for the saving them and showing their parents respect. Do you accept this bond?”
Reeling a little he didn’t know what he was going to do. He felt responsible for the little guys for some reason. He did like animals and he did have a largish piece of property they could run around on. He would have to get them not to kill neighboring animals or there would be a wolf hunt.
Facing the two cubs, Sinclair regarded them solemnly. "I'd be honored if you chose to come live with me. However, there are rules we need to abide by. On my world, wolves aren't always welcomed warmly due to the livestock that people rear. I'll ensure you have food, but hunting there is off the table. You can hunt when we travel elsewhere. There'll also be times I'll have to leave you behind, and I need to trust that you won’t stray."
Speaking to them earnestly, he treated them with the respect accorded to sentient beings, given the human-level intelligence they'd displayed. The Guide, capable of conversing with the cubs, acted as a mediator, and Sinclair chose to take the feedback at face value.
After a few moments, both cubs clambered onto his lap, delivering affectionate licks to his cheek. A chuckle escaped Sinclair's lips. "I'll consider that a yes." He ruffled the fur of the brown and black cub, declaring, "You, with your delightfully clumsy paws, shall be named 'Chewy'." His fingers then grazed the white and brown flecked cub as he proclaimed, "And you, my clever little lady, will be 'Leia', after the most formidable Sci-fi general and a real-life mischief-maker." Their cheerful yips indicated their approval.
Sinclair then stood tall, turning to the Guide with gratitude. "It’s time for me to return to my world. I appreciate the insights you've shared. May your Path always be enlightened." It felt right and cringe to say but he really liked the roleplaying aspect of these worlds.
The guide getting to his feet looked Sinclair in the face clasping forearms and said “ Your Path is going to be long and hard from what I can see. It always is for people who Champion the causes of others. Keep your foundation firm and you will be fine.” With those last words a screen finally popped up for Sinclair. You have completed the Challenge of Ansuz. Collect your reward and travel back to The Staging Area? Y/N?
Selecting yes he was presented with a small chest he popped into his storage container and teleported back to the hut in the woods. Chewy and Leia were in tow as well which was a relief. He would have been heartbroken if they couldn’t make it.
“First things first. Food for all of us and then I need to check my screens to see what I gained from that tutorial section.” He moved over to the firepit and restarted a new fire to start cooking up the last of his bonehead meat. The cubs were going to be exhausted and hungry he imagined so he made up every last bit which turned out to be several lbs. Laying the meat out and finding a small pot near the wall of the hut he filled it with water for the two cubs and sat with his back against the wall. He told them before opening the screens. “Keep watch I am going to be looking at my status windows so I will be slow to respond if you need anything”
Turning inwards he pulled up his logs and cleared the entries dealing with combat. He wanted to know what was in the chest and what was going on with his own chest.
Ansuz Tutorial Rewards
Path Unlocked: Journey of the Wolf
Core Essence: The Journey of the Wolf is a path of loyalty, strength, and kinship. It acknowledges the profound truth that while a lone wolf is formidable, the pack is where true strength lies. This path reflects a deep connection to those you consider family, whether bound by blood or bond, and emphasizes the importance of this unity in the face of life's trials.
Tenets of the Path:
Pack Bonding: Your bond with your pack is paramount. The relationships you forge will shape your journey, providing mutual support and shared strength.
Guardianship: As you walk this path, you become a guardian of your pack. Your strength is their shield, their well-being your guiding light.
Collective Growth: Your pack's strength is your strength. As you grow and evolve, so too will your pack. Your shared experiences will lead to collective empowerment.
Enduring Resilience: The path requires resilience. You must be as steadfast as the ancient forests and as enduring as the mountains, ensuring that your pack remains unbroken.
Skill awarded Pack Call…. error. Skill already exists. Upgrading rarity
………
Skill Name: Fenrir's Rally (Rare)
Description: Channel the ancient might of Fenrir, the legendary wolf, with a powerful howl that reverberates across the land. This rare skill taps into the primal force of the wild, summoning the spirit of the great wolf to call forth allies to your aid.
Effect:
* Howl resonates with a mystical frequency that is heard by all allies within a vast radius, compelling them to converge towards your location.
* The call has a special resonance with wolves, drawing them to your side regardless of their relationship, acknowledging the kinship with their mythic ancestor.
* Allies responding to Fenrir's Rally feel a surge of courage and determination, bolstering their morale for the upcoming conflict.
Cooldown: Due to its potent nature, this skill can only be used two times a day, as the echo of Fenrir's essence needs time to gather strength again.
Lore Connection: Just as Fenrir was destined to break free during Ragnarok, so does this howl break through all barriers to unite allies. It is said that the wolves answering the call carry with them a fragment of Fenrir's fierce spirit, ready to face any challenge by your side.
Direwolf Gauntlets - Thin metal full gauntlets worked into looking like a wolfs paw with claws to protect your fingers. +3 armour +4 Agility. Increased proficiency with unarmed combat
Base Stat changes
+5 Strength
+8 Agility
+7 Endurance
+3 Intelligence
+2 Willpower
+80 silver
Perusing his notifications, Sinclair stumbled upon a message explaining the anomaly with his Tutorial rewards. It appeared that during the moment the cub howled as he charged the Ogre, he'd earned the original skill. The system, in its routine operation, had attempted to reward him the same skill again, but failed since he couldn't possess duplicate abilities. In essence, he'd inadvertently gotten a free upgrade.