Skill increase: skinning lvl 3->4

I pull my hand away from the pile of rodent skins lying in the sewer next to me. I have no need for their skins beyond the skill increase and ignore them to prepare the bodies for my traps. At 13 years old, my hands are small and dexterous, easily able to manipulate small wires and sticks to make a circular frame with the mouse/rat suspended in the middle. I weave in bits of cloth on the bottom half and then attach a string to the ball before sending it out to float in the murky waters of the sewer. Once all four traps are set, I lay back against the wall of the septic pipe and wait for my prey. Focusing my mind I pull up my slayer count to see my progress.

Slayer

lvl-0 :Rodents: 442

lvl-0: Slimes: 258

With only a couple of weeks left until my birthday, I worry that I won't be able to achieve the level needed to qualify for slayer status. Slayers are anyone who has achieved the level of aggression towards a given species or type of creature that prompts their first point in the slayer count. Technically anyone with a count at all is considered a slayer, but few actually see it as such until you reach level 1 and gain an ability boost. The more common the creature being slayed, the harder it is to achieve a higher level. My hatred of the mice and rats that plague the sewers and hidden places where I spend most of my time have made it easy to slowly grow my kill count for them. Slimes are my true aim for becoming a slayer since they are less common than rodents and thus require less kills to achieve the next level.

As I ponder how many slimes it may take to get the power boost, I feel the tension on the string tied to my finger release. Jumping to my feet, I quickly grab the rope tied to each cage and begin pulling the cage out and throw it out towards the walkway before the side of the pipe. Grabbing two long pieces of scrap metal that have been formed into crude knives, I begin striking out at the small brown fist sized clot dissolving the mouse inside the cage. The thin string I had tied to the mouse's body hangs loose where the slime's acidity melted it. My attacks trigger its survival instincts and it attempts to launch itself out to escape into the water, but it is slowed by the mesh of the cage and the cloth wrapping. Feeling the delightful burn of adrenaline coursing through my limbs, I dodge to the side and grab an old tattered burlap sheet which I throw on top of the  now free slime. Using my body to pin it and the flat of my knives as hammers, I smash down where I can feel the bulge. After dozens of blows the movements end, checking my counter and seeing my number rise to 259, I smile. Pulling the sheet away from the remains that are now once again waste and scrap from the sewer, I move on and check my other traps for signs of slimes. 

Slimes form when enough magic triggers a compression of the material in question to form a loose ball. In the center of the mass is a core that serves as the slimes heart. The slimes I fight have cores the size of a piece of rice or potentially smaller still. Sewer slimes are created from the excrements, scrap, and garbage that makes up the murky water flowing slowly by. While all cores have some value, being able to kill the small brown slimes without breaking the core is nearly impossible for someone without magic. My skills have been advancing through the years, but magic is restricted to those who receive special training or are extremely gifted. 

As I scrape the residue from another dead slime into the water, I reminisce about taking basic magic prep classes as a child. I was fortunate that my father’s position as a snake slayer gave him enough prestige to get me into the classes. I only gained a few levels in some basic skills, but every little bit helps. After my father left on a mission and did not return when I was eight, I had to stop the classes. 

The weeks leading up to my birthday breeze by as I continue to spend all my time hunting slimes, rats, and any creature desperate enough to try and encroach on my section of the sewer. My skills grow and by the time the fifth day of the 3rd month comes (my birthday) I have finally seen the message I craved.

Congratulations! Creatures of blobs and bounce beware!

Slayer lvl 0->1

Slayer

lvl-0 :Rodents: 523

lvl-1: Slimes: 500

Boost: 10% acid resistance

         5% bonus damage

“Yes!” I yell out and hear the echo of my joy resonate through my territory. I am now ready to go up and be secure in my ability. Slayers are always given respect beyond their actual potential. My other skills have been slowly improved and shaped by my sometimes senseless killing sprees. 

Rhea Moore

Lvl:---

Age: 13

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Race: Human (Dungeon born-Alaric’s rest)

Stats:

Constitution : 4

Strength: 3

Agility: 6

Dexterity: 7

Perception: 8

Charisma: 3

Luck: 5

Debuffs:

Malnutrition: -10% constitution/ charisma

Buffs:

Dungeon Born: low light visions, no penalty for lack of sunlight

Slime Slayer: 10% acid resistance, +5% damage against slimes

Combat Skills:

Small blades: lvl 11

Bonus Ability- vitial aim

(when thrown, small blades have a 15% increased chance of hitting vital spots)

Trap setting: 10

Bonus ability- improvisation

(improvised/scrap materials are 20% stronger)

Blunt weapons: lvl 4

Unarmed combat: lvl 3

Non-Combat Skills:

Weaving: lvl 10

Bonus: quick weave

(weaving speed increase of 15%)

Crafting: lvl 8

Territory sense: lvl 6

Meditation: lvl 5

Swimming: lv 5

Skinning: lvl 4

Athletics lvl 4

Cooking: lvl 2

For someone my age, having three skills above level 10 is considered talented. Once a skill reaches that first threshold, it gains a bonus that usually is based on how a person most used the skill. Tomorrow, when I head into the city to join all the other youths born on the same day fourteen years ago, I will have the culmination of everything I’ve accomplished quantified by the dungeon into my level. Combat skills and skills with a bonus are weighted higher towards your level, but every level and skill contributes a little to raising it. The typical level of most fourteen year olds is 2-3. Like with stats, 5 is the average for an adult and 10 is considered the typical maximum. Starting with a 4 will grant easy entrance into most academies/programs in the city and anyone above it is considered a prodigy. I am hopeful that with 3 skills above the threshold and a slayer bonus that I start with a value of 5 or above. 

***

The next day I walk into the square where the dungeon crystal is located and see representatives from most of the great powers in our dungeon. There is the Malady school of dungeoneering (specializes in people wanting to become rouges, witches, and archers), the Adventures Guild (focuses on battle training and fighting in neighboring dungeons), Alaric’s Light (the official military/police force for our dungeon), and the Slayer Academy. The Slayer Academy only recruits slayers, prospective slayer, and support staff. Their agents are requested from the other agencies and dungeons in our area to help deal with focused outbreaks or swarms. Even with only one slime slayer bonus, I would still be sent to any slime infestations or poison based missions due to the advantage it gives me should they allow me into their ranks. 

I try and hurry through the throngs of people clustered in the square to be one of the first to have my level read. With a population of over 80,000 people there are a good number of candidates and family members blocking my way.  A boy with striking red hair reaches the crystal first and a line quickly forms behind him. I am third to last. The announcer, a heavy set man with a balding head, grabs the red headed boy’s neck and thrusts his head into the crystal which moments ago looked to be completely solid. After a few seconds of watching the boy’s body convulse and fight against the announcer, he is pulled out gasping for air. The boy’s parents run and hold him as he shakes listening to the announcer as he shouts out the boy’s level “3.6”. Their excited murmuring is cut short as members of the agencies push recruitment forms at the family to try and convince the still wobbling young man to join up with them. The next girl steps forward and with each progressive shout from the announcer I get closer and closer to the crystal. 

Finally, it is my turn. The mental turmoil of watching others be pulled into the seemingly innocent crystal and not knowing what to expect has me wishing to get it over with as soon as possible. When the announcers sweaty hands grab me around the neck, I resist the urge to pull away and instead limply allow my body to tip towards the glowing green crystal that ripples as I near it. I can’t seem to look away and at the last moment remember to take a big breath. I feel a black nothingness as my head enters the void beyond the crystal and I struggle to even move my mind enough to observe the space. There is a prodding feeling fluttering around my head that distracts me from noticing anything significant. Time seems to slow as the force against my brain strengthens. Flashes of grey wisp around me and I feel a suction around me that suddenly releases spewing me out of the crystal. 

I stagger away from the announcer whose impassive face and lazy hand touching the crystal stiffens as he receives my level. I try not to collapse to the ground as his mouth opens to shout my number.

“4.8!” silence descends on the square before I am swept up by the crowd.