Bubbles swirled around him, colossal forces pulling him from every direction. Water surrounded him on all sides, stabbing with an icy chill. Weighing him down, soaking his travelling clothes. He tried to kick, to force his way upwards. Agonising heat shot through his leg, the limb flapping ineffectively.
It was broken.
He was going to drown.
Fighting to move, he tried to discern which way was up even as he was thrown and twisted around by the currents.
His vision started to tunnel; a deep burning ache settling into his lungs.
I’m going to drown.
Still he struggled, Rapid Adaptation fighting to keep the fear at bay.
The faintest hint of a scintillating glow rose up from the depths, too blue to be the surface, growing brighter as he was forced down by the hammerblow of water from the falls.
It was forgotten in his all-consuming need for air.
The black closed in.
Then…nothing.
----------------------------------------
He was falling again.
Back hit stone. Hard. His head smacked into the ground with a crack that he felt in his teeth. He heard water hit the ground with a splash, drenching his surroundings. The sharp pain rose him to full wakefulness - a cough and a splutter forced out the water in his lungs, leaving him retching.
Pushing his sopping hair out of his eyes he looked around, shocked at his continued survival. Eyes adjusted to a soft light, far dimmer than the sun he was used to, though still more than enough to see by. He was in a damp cavern, the lighting immediately explained by a thin patchy coating of phosphorescent moss. Roots speared through the light intermittently, bursting through stone and moss alike.
It smelled horrible.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing at the pain in his leg. Ever the useful skill, Rapid Adaptation prevented the pain from paralysing him, but it did not remove it.
Evidently it hadn't been enough time for his Health to regenerate his wound.
Looking over the cavern floor, Kaius spotted an impressive number of fish carcases in varying states of decomposition. “That explains the smell.”
Eyes widened as he realised he had no idea if his gear had been ripped off him in his fall. Training took over, his hands searching for the presence of his pack and longsword. Both had a variety of minor enchantments, so they would have been undamaged by the water. If they stayed attached to him in the violent turbulence of the waterfall.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt both the hilt of his sword at his waist and the top of his pack peaking over his back.
“Small miracle, that. More importantly though, where in the hells am I?”
He looked to the ceiling where he must have fallen from, confused by the lack of water. Kaius quickly found his answer in the form of a dull circle of runes inscribed in the ceiling. He recognised them from his father's lessons. He’d had it hammered into him that they were to be avoided at all costs, at least until he was ready.
A portal to the Great Depths. One whose counterpart had ripped him across space to deposit him here.
With impeccable timing the System thrust a notification in front of his face,
**Welcome to the Great Depths.**
Layer: 2
Biome: Overgrown Graves
Kaius groaned as he read the message.
“Fuck. Layer two though. It could be worse.”
Being on the second layer of the dungeon meant he would be facing monsters with an average level range of ten to twenty. Not the worst, certainly within his capabilities if he was slow, meticulous, and incredibly careful.
It wasn't that that worried him however. It was one of the reasons his father had impressed on him to avoid the Depths if he ever stumbled on an entrance. A tongue-lashing he had received after getting a little too curious about the glowing circles that dotted the forest above.
Firstly that the entrances were one way - and once used would not be usable again for a period of time that could range from a few minutes to months.
Once in, you had no way of knowing how long it would be until you could receive assistance. Which didn’t matter if the portal you fell through was at the base of a fucking waterfall!
The lesson had only one other component. There was only one way out of the Depths. You had to slay one of the Guardians that defended a portal to the surface and a portal deeper. You could traverse laterally. Moving through biomes to find a favourable match up. But you had to kill a Guardian.
Something no unclassed had survived. Ever. Not even on the first layer.
Monstrous beyond compare, the Guardians had a far higher level than the layer average, with far more power per level than a common Depths-born. They even had access to class skills. His father said trying to face them was practically suicide unless you were with a full team of appropriate levelled Delvers.
Kaius slumped backwards onto the damp stone.
“No problem. I’ve just got to make history if I want to survive.” He put his head in his hands.
Still, he was breathing. He had his gear. His training. If he was careful, the danger of the Depths should aid him in acquiring and levelling the skills he needed to create the legacy skills he was aiming for. They were a significant force multiplier, and if he managed all ten before his class selection, he should get offered quite the selection of classes. With a class and a few levels under his belt, it might be enough.
He would just have to survive the two years until his class selection. Alone. In the Depths. Fuck.
“Okay, immediate plans. Set up a safe base of operations. Father said monsters wouldn’t come into entrance rooms, so I'm safe for now. It might take him a few weeks, but he will find this entrance when he deals with the bandits.”
Stuck in place for the foreseeable future, Kaius reverted to his training. His leg still ached from the fall and the arrow wound, but at the least it was no longer broken thanks to the regenerative properties of his Health.
Step one would be assessing his status and how long his recovery would take. Realistically, a few hours at the most. Then, scouting and securing a lasting source of food and water. Based on the biome name he would most likely be facing a mix of undead types and beast types. Or undead beasts, which could cause an issue.
Long term he would just have to sit tight, work on his training, and wait for his father.
“If he even survives the bandits...” the thought came unbidden.
Kaius tried to force the fear out of his mind, leaning on his skill to drive off its paralysing grip on his throat. Hastur, Father, would be fine. He was strong. In all their years of sparring, Kaius had never even come close to besting him. Even now he was a man grown with a Unique weapons skill, Father still trounced him easily. After all, he had the same skill at a far higher level, and had far more stats to boot.
Hells, the hunters in the frontier villages that bordered the Sea tipped him their hats in a deference they showed no others.
“But if he had a flare up..” The last one happened just yesterday. A wracking fit of coughs and muscle spasms that had left him gasping and weak for hours.
Kaius scrunched his eyes shut.
“Status and survival first.” he thought, letting out a slow and steady breath to calm himself.
Status:
Name: Kaius
Dynasty: Unterstern
Age: 18
Class Selection: 1 Year, 49 weeks, 6 days
Level: N/A
Race: Human (Dynastic) - +1 free stats per level
Layer Reached: 2
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Resources:
Health - 0/200 (2/min)
Stamina - 86/190 (2/min)
Mana - 120/120 (2/min)
Stats:
Endurance - 20
Vitality- 20
Strength - 19
Dexterity - 20
Intelligence - 12
Willpower: - 20
Stat Points: 0
Class Skills (0/10):
N/a
General Skills (10/10):
Rapid Adaptation (Heroic) - 10
Warforged (Unique) -16
Tracking (Common) - 20
Sneak (Common)- 20
Trap Finding (Uncommon)- 20
Orienteering (Common)- 20
Herbalism (Uncommon)- 20
Cooking (Common)- 20
Sense Weakness (Rare)- 15
Physical Conditioning (Uncommon)- 13
As he had expected, his Health was hovering at rock bottom. Thanks to his stats being capped at twenty until he got a class, he had a paltry two hundred. All of which had been consumed as his body attempted to heal from the arrow wound, and no doubt whatever considerable damage he had sustained in his fall.
His resource regeneration was similarly low, but even still he could feel the barest pulse of heat surging through his body. The small blips of regenerated Health instantly consumed to heal his injuries.
His Stamina was rather drained too, but he had enough to function on. Besides, he wouldn't be leaving until his Health was full, by which point it would have long since topped off.
With that done he scooted over to the edge of the wall, making sure to avoid the manky and very old fish carcases that dotted the cavern floor. With a heave, Kaius pushed himself atop a stray root that seemed to jut out of the floor, lifting himself out of the splash zone of any further potential water drops.
He probably could have hobbled over, but Kaius didn't want to accidentally reinjure anything partially healed. He didn't want to spend any longer than necessary waiting for his health to fill.
Groaning in discomfort, Kaius decided to inventory his skills in order to take his mind off his leg. His third legacy skill was coming along nicely. He only had to max out Sense Weakness and Physical Conditioning at twenty in order to merge them, and the rest of his motley collection of Common and Uncommon skills, into Explorer’s Toolkit.
Normally that would have taken him a few more months. They were combat focused skills. Sense Weakness was self explanatory, and the second slightly reduced the stamina cost of physical activity.
Normally he would be steadily training both in controlled hunts with his father. Down here though, he more than expected that they would be seeing a lot of use.
It was just his luck that the ambush had occurred now, before he could merge the Unusual legacy skill. Far greater than the sum of its parts, it was one of the broadest survival focused skills he had ever heard of. It would be invaluable for keeping him breathing in the world dungeon. He’d need to prioritise capping Sense Weakness and Physical Conditioning as fast as he could.
After that he’d be able to work on his dynasty's legacy defensive skill. That, the survival skill, and Rapid Adaptation and Warforged might just be enough to ensure his safety. He’d need that. He couldn’t only focus on just barely surviving. That would make it impossible for him to acquire and merge the component skills he needed for the rest of his legacy skills.
Especially the sixth and seventh skills in his legacy. They were vital for the plans he had for his class. Without them, there was no chance he would be able to practise weaving and binding runic spell inscriptions to his flesh. Something that would let him cast without the channelling time and focus requirements of a normal mage.
Without practice, it wouldn’t influence his class. Without that influence, he would need to pick a channelling class if he wanted access to magic. Which would mean the sway of his close combat legacy skills on his class selection would go to waste. No one used channelled magic in melee, it was suicide. He had one shot at a class that blended magic and blade.
There was no way he was going to let being trapped in the Depths come between him and his goals.
Besides, if he managed to complete the full set of his legacy skills and practise such a unique method of bodily imbuement, he was sure to be offered an Unusual - or maybe even Unique - class. That would give him just the edge he needed to slay the Guardian and escape.
Not exploiting his legacy skills to the fullest extent possible would be a waste, and a stain on his family name. Even one merged from only three or four general skills was worth a noble's ransom. The ones that were part of the limited few that were an open secret only slightly less so.
A good general skill could change fates. Hell, an old hunter who had shared their fire once had boasted that the only reason he felt comfortable ranging so far into the Sea was that he had been lucky enough to unlock two Unusual skills. If only the man had known what his and his father's skills looked like. Unusual was usually the lowest rarity for a legacy skill - though some more common merges of two to three skills were Rare.
Yet, despite their power- their frankly insane value- almost no one actively hunted for combinations. You only had ten general skill slots, and you couldn’t remove skills. The chances of the skills not merging and leaving you with a motley collection of poorly optimised junk burning a hole in your status was astronomical. Even if by some small miracle you did have the right skills? If they were in the wrong order they wouldn’t merge.
A favoured fable, that was. The noble scion who refused to listen closely to his parents, ending up with five Mastery skills instead of Master-at-Arms.
Kaius shook his head.
Some people might be willing to risk two, three, maybe even four of their general skills in order to attempt to discover a legacy skill. But more than that? All ten? Pure lunacy. He’d once heard from a Hiwiann caravan that some Greenseed duke had announced he had received a skill guide as loot from a Guardian. His father -Hastur- had said it was more likely to be political posturing. A convenient way to boost the renown of any future scions.
Kaius thanked the gods that he had the favour to be born into a dynasty with such an insanely valuable hoard of knowledge. No one, not even the mighty dukes of Greenseed, openly flaunted a complete set of legacy skills. The shattering of the empire was said to have started over such a legacy.
It was the stuff of legends. Ten skills merged into the first slot, nine into the second, and so on. He’d heard a bard once, telling the story of a lucky boy with such a set ascending to godhood the moment he got his class. Ridiculous of course, his father had the same set as him and was still very much human.
But the benefits were very real, and the dangers of someone finding it out just as heavy. It almost frightened him. People would kill for even one of his skills. Hells, he’d literally overheard more than one disgruntled farmer mutter about kidnapping a noble to secure a legacy for their own sons. Bluster in the face of a noble's might, but the intent was there. Let alone if they found out a full set would lead to a free evolution of your final general skill.
He now understood why his father wouldn't even let him out of their rented rooms when they had visited villages when he was a young child. Too afraid he would let the secret slip.
Father had always been cagey with exactly how they came to possess such a bounty. Nor why they had no hold, clan, sect, or nobility - unlike any other dynasty he had heard of. Why, despite having a king's foundation, they hid like rats in the woods.
He had told Kaius that their dynasty was old. Far older than most. Still, that was the smallest and least difficult of the prerequisites in attaining such a legacy.
Neither had his father explained the origins of his bizarre injuries. The ones that inhibited his abilities to use his active class skills. That caused him such agonising and debilitating flare ups.
It wasn't that hard to guess though. Someone had found out, and when they did his father had been forced to flee. To preserve their legacy. Much like Father had forced him to flee in turn.
Kaius buried his worry for his father's safety. In the end, as much as it burned him to think, it didn't really matter. Father’s…condition… had been getting worse over time. His father had done everything he could to stoke his desire to become a Delver. To explore the world and grow strong. See sights unseen, and carry the Unterstern name to lofty heights once again. Promising that once they didn’t have to hide his training, he would settle down in one of the frontier villages and stop pushing himself in spite of his affliction.
He’d just thought he’d have more time. Time enough to finish his foundation, and then later to obtain his class. Time to spend with his father. Days on hunt, evenings setting camp, nights sat around the fire.
If those bandits had robbed him of that, there would be a blood debt. One he intended to repay with interest.
He just had to get out of the damn Depths first.
----------------------------------------
A figure lounged on a throne of rough hewn stone, one leg tossed contemptuously over the armrest. He looked like he was chiselled from granite. All rough angles and hard lines, striated muscle barely concealed from view by a thin robe far too fine to be made of mundane silk.
The chair hovered in an endless black expanse. Vacuous space only broken by a thousand thousand dancing lights. Moving to some unheard tune.
“Report.” The figure spoke, words barely scraping free. Like he had nearly forgotten the delicate control it required.
A light floated free of the swarm, drifting over to phase through his skull. The figure sat unmoving. Bored.
**Integration - initiated 13,364 years, 9 months, 3 weeks, 1 day, 14 hours, 38 minutes, and 13 seconds ago**
**Integration Stage 1 - completed 13,289 years, 3 months, 4 days, 19 hours, 8 minutes, and 42 seconds ago**
**Integration Stage 2 - Pending … **
“Useless.” The words were forceful. Bitter. An ancient frustration sending the dancing lights into a swarm of anxious activity.
“Summary since last report.”
Another light drifted free from the swarm, pulsing as it approached the figure. The light entered their mind. They blinked, a pensive expression crossing their face. A century of history parsed in an instant.
“An unclassed in the depths? First time in a few decades. Probably no chance, just more dead meat.” Thick fingers drummed against stone leaving hairline cracks in their wake. They didn’t have anything better to do.
“Full historical analysis, Kaius Unterstern.”
Another light, another instant.
The figure sat up with a start, leg crushing the stone hand rest in their haste. They frowned at the distraction. A look of intent and the stone was whole again. They turned back to the report, digesting what they learned.
“Maybe… He might make it.
“Observe the boy. Let me know of his progress.”
**Attempt forced Observation status?**
“No!” The figure hurried. “But inform me if he meets the criteria.”
They leaned back, drumming their fingers into the stone again. Dust flying free with each impact. For the first time in millennia they felt impatient.
“C’mon kid. You might be my ticket back to the fold. Give me an excuse to put my finger on the scale.”