Zachary Lenoux - Age, 18 - Level 2 - 76-250 exp to next level

Face card - The Rat - A scavenger. Small, quick and quiet. The rat is not known for its power but rather its ability to survive.

Slot 1 - Dagger, grade D → Rat Claws - Summon claws to cut or climb.

Slot 2 - Empty

Slot 3 - Empty

Slot 4 - Empty

Slot 5 - Empty

Slot 6 - Empty

Strength - 5

Agility - 15

Dexterity - 9

Endurance - 4

Intelligence - 7

Wisdom - 3

Luck - 1

Zac span, scanning the forest around him for the wolf. His heart thudded in his chest and his hands shook, his tiny white claws reappearing as he bared his hands to tear into this new threat.

Grrrrhugguuhhulll.

Oh. Zac clutched his stomach as it gave another long, gurgling growl. That's embarrassing. Zac blushed as he looked around himself but of course there was nobody there to see him.

Shaking his head to try and clear the flush from his cheeks, Zac looked back at the wolf.

Over the next hour Zac went to work. He started by dragging the wolf over to a nearby tree. He remembered hearing that meat tasted worse if the animal had died in fear, which was definitely true of his wolf, but he also remembered you could ameliorate this somewhat by bleeding the animal. Since his shirt was entirely ruined he tore strips from it and used them to lash the animals legs together and then tie these to a stout branch. It took a lot of heaving and grunting to secure it off the ground, more than he would have expected, but eventually he managed it and, summoning his claws, he cut the beast's throat.

Figuring a bleeding animal might attract more predators he moved away from it to start a fire. He found a good flat piece of bark to use as a cradle and a long straight stick. Summoning his claws again he carved the cradle, adding a divot to hold the stick which just overlapped the edge of the wood, creating a kind of spout to tap the embers from, assuming he could produce any. He collected up some dry grass to work as tinder. He sat and secured the cradle between his feet and began to spin the straight stick between his hands as fast as he could, creating friction which would hopefully lead to fire.

Starting a fire took. A long. Time. He had a couple of false starts where he tapped the ember but wasn’t able to get the grass tinder to do more than smoke. After four attempts he finally managed to spark a tiny flame. He transferred the tinder to a small pile of twigs and blew ever so carefully. On the third puff flames sprung up. Zac sat back and smiled in satisfaction. His hands were red raw and stinging but he’d done it, like ancient man he had discovered fire.

His attempt to skin and fillet the wolf went decidedly worse. He cut the skin round the neck with his claws and tried to pull the fur off in one go but this quickly failed and all he managed was to tear a ruff of fur from the creature's neck. With a lot of effort and judicious use of his claws he was eventually able to more or less remove the fur from the wolf, give or take a couple of stray tufts. He then slit the creatures belly and pulled the offal free which he buried. By the time he started cutting hunks of meat free he was covered in gore. Since he had already been covered in dried blood he was thoroughly disgusting by this point. Zac had never been fastidious about cleanliness, that was pretty much impossible for a homeless kid but this was a step too far even for him. He took a bundle of meat chunks back to his fledgling fire and stabbed them onto sticks to hang over the flames. Then he began looking for water.

His mouth was incredibly dry, he hadn’t had so much as a sip since arriving in this new world. Fallow. The golden voice in the nothing called this place Fallow. Zac swallowed past the click in his throat. It had a decidedly depressing ring to it. Zac walked in circles around his fire. Having never had the best sense of direction he made sure to pay attention to his steps, keeping the direction of the fire and his breakfast clear in his mind.

He kept his ears pricked for any sound of water but couldn’t help but move his eyes constantly, over the shadows between trees and up at the hanging branches above him, searching for enemies. He felt faster since he’d spent his points but it was a small difference, he almost wouldn’t have noticed it if he wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t want to be caught unaware this time. If another wolf showed up, or something worse, he needed to be ready to run. His eyes were drawn to the trees around him as he thought about being attacked. He remembered the fight clearly, too clearly. It was like the whole scene had been indelibly etched into his memory. He walked up to a stout pine tree, the nearest branch fifteen or so feet off the ground.

Zac stared up the tree, thinking. He looked down to his hands and summoned his claws. Small, slightly translucent white points sprung up there, tapering to a sharp point and slightly curved down. The description had mentioned climbing so, shrugging, Zac reached above his head with his right hand and pressed his fingers into the gnarled wood of the tree's trunk. The claws sunk in easily. Zac heaved, pulling himself up until his face was level with his right hand and reached up as far as he could with his left. He attempted to scrabble against the tree with his feet as he did but remembered he had claws there as well when these too sunk into the wood. He hung from the trunk like a monkey, all four sets of claws gripping the wood and found it surprisingly easy.

Zac began to climb, he reached the first branch but ignored it and kept sinking his claws into the trunk, crawling up like spiderman, pushing with his legs and pulling himself up hand over hand. Pausing to catch his breath, Zac released his grip with his left hand and hung there easily. Panting slightly he looked down. He’d scrambled up nearly thirty feet and his vision spun a little as he looked straight down so instead Zac looked out at the forest, searching between the trees for any movement.

This, this could work. Zac had never had a problem with heights. Rooftops had been great places to sleep or just hideout in his old life so he’d gotten used to the high places early in life. He’d found people rarely looked up. Sitting on some rooftop in a random city or town, he’d felt almost free. Nobody looking at him or sneering in his direction. No derision or pity. It was like climbing above everybody else separated him from their petty problems, from the trials of his everyday life. It released him from responsibility or pain or struggle and just let him be. This was more than rare in Zac’s life, it was practically unheard of. He’d grown to love the high places.

Clinging to the tree, Zac let his mind wander. If this world was anything like the other, people likely wouldn’t notice him up here. Monsters either, probably. Shaking his head Zac climbed back down quickly and continued his search for water.

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Zac gnawed on burnt wolf meat.

It had taken him longer than he would have hoped to find a small stream and get a drink of water. He’d taken only a small sip and then had to wait to see if this would make him sick. He’d also washed himself off, as best he could in the tiny trickle of water. He’d stripped his tatty trousers off and crouched, naked, skinny and shivering up to his ankles in the stream and scrubbed at himself. He’d dunked his simple, once brown trousers too, dragging them over the stony stream bed to shift as much of the wolf gunk as he could, they had some tears at the thighs but were still mostly intact. After half an hour or so hadn’t made him ill he’d guzzled greedily from the stream, filling his stomach with ice cold water.

Trudging back to his fire he’d found the meat blackened and crackly, though it still tasted amazing, probably because he was so hungry. He sat huddled by the fire, still naked, his trousers hung from a nearby tree to dry, and gnashed at the meat with his teeth, tearing into it with his claws to rip off chunks to chew. It was tough and gamey but delicious.

The light of the sun was fading into the forest, shining in streaks through the trunks and branches. He’d stabbed a new set of meat onto sticks around the fire and sat watching them cook, mind clear, watching the flames twist and snap in the breeze as they ate away at the wood and flicked over the dripping meat.

He lost track of time, not thinking about anything much. An old habit, hard to break. This emptiness was something he’d always done, so far as he could remember. When the tasks for the day were done he became a blank. He supposed it was a defence mechanism, kept him from thinking about how bad things were. But, that's not right. Not now. I’m in a new world. I’m a new person. The rogue had even called him a hero. Here, in this new place he could be different. Everything can be.

This idea was a revelation to Zac. He’d always felt trapped in his previous life. Growing up in foster care and then running away when he was nine or ten, when he could no longer take the casual abuse and dismissal. He’d felt like he was stuck on a track. Held to a road that he knew would never lead anywhere he wanted to be. But now. Now he was getting a do-over. And in a world that made sense.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

He’d often dreamed of being in a game world, with stats and levels. No matter what enemy you met, what problem you faced there was always a way to win. Though he wasn’t certain this world was precisely like that, he knew there was a clear way to get stronger, something that would be the same for everyone. Sure, some people would still have advantages. Money no doubt still ruled this world and those who had it would be a step ahead. But still. Zac could grow stronger. He would grow stronger.

Pulling his mind forcefully from the empty he began to think about his future. He would stay in these woods and he would fight. The next time he saw a wolf he wouldn’t run. He’d attack. He’d fight tooth and claw, literally. He’d tear a future from his enemies throats if he had to. Zac snarled, his heart beginning to thump in his chest as he thought about it. He’d abandoned ambition long long ago, if he’d ever had any to begin with, but this time things would be different.

A crackling from the fire drew his attention and he saw the second set of meat was cooked. He collected the sticks up and commenced the feast, grinning through the juices dripping down his chin.

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Zac sat high in a tree and watched the sunset, his first in this new world. Marking the end of his first successful day in this new life.

He'd decided to climb a tree to sleep. Since his only clothes were a partially ripped pair of thin cotton trousers he would've liked to sleep by the fire but he'd figured that was too dangerous. So he'd climbed a tree and found a part high up where two thick branches met the trunk and created a hollow where he could tuck himself in and not need to fear falling. The hollow also protected him from the elements. The wind couldn't reach him in this dip and another thick branch ran from the tree above him creating a sort of roof. As practically a connoisseur of innocuous places to sleep he knew this was a good one.

He sat with his legs dangling over the drop, his bare back pressed against the knobbly bark and watched as the trees turned gold and red, the sun almost disappearing beneath the treetops. The forest spread around him as far as he could see, this ‘Myre woods’ was obviously vast. He chewed a stick and swung his feet, feeling remarkably chipper. His revelation of what his life was now, finally realising that he had a second chance had put him in a great mood. Despite how dangerous this new world had already proven to be he was excited to really get started.

The sun sank completely beneath the trees and darkness set in. Zac couldn't quiet his mind, couldn't stop imagining what his new life would be. He stared into the night and imagined glorious battles against fierce monsters, imagined striding into fantasy cities with a black cloak trailing out behind him, mediaeval villagers cheering him and throwing flowers at his feet, buxom wenches swooning at the mere sight of him.

Zac chuckled. He knew his imagination was being foolish but he couldn't help but get caught up in it.

He scanned the forest aimlessly, caught up in his daydreams but then he noticed something. He realised he’d been seeing something for a while but hadn’t registered it amidst his meandering thoughts. Off to his left was a flickering orange light, strobing as it moved through the trees.

Zac sat up straight, straining his eyes to catch sight of the glow. He got his feet beneath him and crawled further out onto the branch. The light appeared again and then ducked back behind the trees. Fire?

Zac almost dropped from the tree right then in a mad dash to see what it was but he held himself back. He couldn't be sure who was there, or what. Couldn't know if they, or it, were friendly. Instead he waited, trying to be patient. The light came and went as it moved through the trees but it seemed to be moving his way.

So Zac waited. The light was meandering, not keeping to a straight line but instead seeming to move back and forth in a zig zag but still getting closer all the time. As it drew nearer Zac saw that it was a blob of flame floating over the ground. This confused him at first until he realised he was overthinking it, caught up in the magic of this new world. It was just a torch. Closer still and Zac could just make out a figure holding the torch, then others moving to either side of the torch bearer. He thought there were three. They moved in a crouch, not making any sound Zac could hear.

Then suddenly the torch stopped. Zac thought he could just make out whispers as the figures conversed then they began moving again, slowly and crouched lower. Straight towards Zac.

Zac looked about himself, trying to tell if any of the trees were close enough to jump to from this one, in case he needed to make a hasty retreat. As he looked he noticed the campfire, almost extinguished but still glowing a dull red. Dammit. Stupid, Zac. He should've stamped the fire out before he climbed his tree. He'd never been much of a woodsman.

He stared at the figures as they moved towards him, not even daring to blink. As they got closer he finally got a good look at them but if he had been hoping for some help, maybe friendly adventurers or travelling merchants or something, he was disappointed.

The figures were short, it was hard to tell from up here and with them crouching but he guessed they weren't higher than four feet tall. They were also green.

Goblins. Zac couldn't help but grin. First a wolf and now goblins, classic fantasy tropes. The small green creatures were even worse dressed than him, wearing only loincloths. The torchbearer didn't seem to have any weapon, aside the torch itself, but the other two clutched what looked like tiny daggers in their grubby fists. They moved into the clearing where Zac had made his fire and spread out, searching the bushes and kicking through the leaf litter, one even bent low and snuffled at the ground.

Moving on instinct, Zac started climbing down the tree. He had climbed forty feet up or so and he needed to be closer. He climbed down to about ten feet from the ground and then crawled out along a branch, slow and quiet. He crouched and watched as the goblins searched his makeshift camp. They grunted and growled at each other but he heard nothing that could reasonably be called speech. Obviously not terribly intelligent creatures. Zac had a moment to think if these things were even a threat, maybe he should call down to them?

Zac shook his head. He couldn't afford to take a chance like that. He'd have one chance to seize the advantage, one chance to strike from the shadows and even the odds. If he called out to them and they attacked, which he had to assume they would, he'd be stuck up a tree facing three enemies.

And I need the experience. It was a grim thought, to consider killing these creatures just for exp. But that was how games worked. Zac knew this wasn’t a game, he remembered the fight with the wolf vividly, the pain and fury. Still, games where the only applicable knowledge he had and it certainly seemed to fit. If he was going to get strong enough to survive here he would need to kill.

He looked over to the closest goblin. It was the torchbearer and had stopped by his fire as the other two searched the clearing. It was a supremely ugly creature. It had a skinny body with twiggy arms and legs. An oversized bald head with long pointed ears. It had its mouth spread in a sneer with shape teeth poking out and glinting in the torch light. It certainly didn't look friendly. It turned and backed away from the fire, looking over its companions, waiting for them to find something. Perhaps this creature was the one in charge. As it stepped back it walked straight underneath Zac and without thinking, without any kind of conscious decision at all, Zac stepped straight off his branch.

Zac slammed into the goblin feet first. He clutched its left shoulder with his left hand and drove his right, wedged and pointing with his claws extended, into the base of the creature's neck. The goblin crashed to the ground and Zac rolled with the collision, coming up right in front of the second goblin who was just turning towards the noise. He raked his left hand claws across this unfortunate monster’s throat, followed by a punch from his right hand that decked it. Zac was a decent fighter but that was too easy, the goblin weighed deceptively little for its size.

Heart pumping and with a vicious snarl on his face, Zac turned to the last goblin. It was staring his way in shock but as their eyes met something there seemed to clear. It shook its oversized noggin and waved its crude knife at Zac threateningly. Zac grinned wide, completely caught up in the battle fury, and stalked forward in a crouch, hands raised ahead of him, claws spread and glinting in the dull light of the nighttime forest.

As he got within five feet or so of the goblin Zac thrust his right hand forward in an obvious feint. The goblin completely overreacted, back pedalling and waving his knife. He struck a root with his foot and tumbled over backwards. Zac instantly pounced, stuck in the primal part of his brain. Sensing weakness he struck without remorse.

The goblin raised his knife from his back and Zac bashed its arm with his hand as he fell on top of it, barely feeling a line of fire drawn up his right arm from elbow to shoulder. He landed on the creature and began smashing it about the head and upper body with his fists. It wailed pitifully but Zac took no notice, thumping his knuckles into its body over and over. Finally, as the goblin fell back stunned, Zac tore at his neck, getting sprayed once again with a stream of blood.

Zac knelt over the torn, dead goblin, breathing heavily and clearing his thoughts. He got himself under control quickly, another benefit of living the life that he had, and stood.

The now familiar sparks appeared in the air before Zac.

You have levelled up!

As soon as Zac registered the words they began to fade away. He walked back over to the dying embers of his campfire. He saw the goblin he’d fallen on, laying where it had when it crashed to the ground, neck torn open, blood slowly spreading through the leaves beneath it. He had the sudden, almost irresistible urge to vomit but he swallowed it down and forcefully pulled his gaze away from the corpse. Keeping his mind blank and focusing on the present. These bodies might attract more monsters. He would need to find another spot to sleep.

He was covered in blood again so first he would make his way over to the stream and wash, he was thirsty anyway. Then he would find another tree, one tall and thick enough to have strong branches high up. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to sleep though, he felt absolutely wired.

This second fight had been more deliberate. Despite the rather brutal way he had dispatched the last goblin, it had been more like a real fight. His tussle with the wolf had been like two mad animals thrashing and clawing at each other. This had been more thought out, more strategic if only a little. As he walked towards where he hoped the stream was he ran through the fight in his head, thinking about what he had done right and where he could improve.

The first blow was brilliant. A real life air assassination. Almost impossible to avoid if you didn’t see it coming. He’d executed it remarkably well also, despite the fact he hadn’t really considered what he was doing before he’d done it. The second take down had been good too, quick and concise, though the follow up punch was probably overkill. The last enemy though, the only foe he’d really faced in combat, the first two goblins having been dispatched before they even knew what was happening, that had been much less well done.

Despite the fact the goblin had been weaker and less intelligent than him he’d still allowed it to land a blow and certainly hadn’t killed it quickly. He shouldn’t have pounced like that, instead he could have waited for an opening as it scrambled to its feet. He could have ducked it and slashed its neck or even just delivered a slice of any kind to distract and weaken it.

He needed to stick to the assassin schtick. Strike from the shadows. Hit the victim unaware. Use confusion and misdirection as weapons. Distract and mislead and then strike with blinding speed. Zac found this strategy appealed to him.

Wait, it cut me. Zac clutched at his right arm where suddenly he could feel a sharp sting, as if remembering the injury had ignited the pain. He had a long but shallow cut, it stung like a son of a bitch but wouldn’t be life threatening. Still he reminded himself to wash it thoroughly when he got to the stream. The goblins knife had been stone luckily so it likely wouldn’t carry any really nasty bacteria. If bacteria even existed in this strange new world.

Zac found the stream with minimal searching. Surprised and a little delighted at his navigating ability he washed up quickly, paying extra attention to his ‘battle wound’. When he was done he started looking around him for a good tree. He was still wired, plus wet, so he figured he could walk for a while, burn off some extra energy and maybe dry off a little as he searched for the best resting spot. But as he wandered aimlessly, looking around himself half heartedly for the perfect tree he saw another glow, a new flickering orange light off to his left. Then a second straight ahead but a bit further away.

As Zac turned slowly on the spot he counted. He could see seven orange lights at various distances throughout the forest.

He had goblins to hunt.