Your eyes flicker for a moment. Ears standing at attention, you hear the same whispers you’ve heard before.
You can’t help but sigh in relief. A rest it is, then.
...Though maybe not in this dark room.
Ignoring the now even greater rumblings, to the point it even knocks you off balance slightly every now and then, you head back to the original room.
*Plink*
Drips of water hit the ground and a faint sound of drizzling manages to catch your attention. An epiphany happens as you remember that one of the previous rooms you passed has had that happening this entire time. Feeling a bit dumb, you refill the waterskin and take a sip for yourself. Tastes very clean.
Finally reaching the very end of the hall, or the beginning depending on how you looked at it, you enter back into the original room. The familiar warmth and illumination of torchlight greets you.
Just in case.
Hand on the edge, it takes only a moment to close it shut.
Better.
Now, it is slightly hard to make anything that isn’t revolting to eat out of dried jerky, hardtack, and raisins, and there wasn’t enough material for a campfire, but a meal is a meal.
Nearly the entire water pouch was spent choking it down. You’ve heard of people getting something called scurvy if they don’t properly eat for a while, but you probably have some time before that happens.
The real issue was the wounds, raw and likely going to get infected. Some scraps of torn clothes made for easy bandages, though not cleaning the injuries. Not that you could anyway unless you had the right stuff, it still is something to keep an eye on.
Stripping down completely for the first time, the muscle became more clear, both in terms of athletic muscle and how deep the slashes go. Patching yourself up, you still have to admire the decent six-pack, well worked legs and some triceps to be proud of.
To think I still feel like going despite my injuries being like this, that constitution stuff is really something.
Food is in your belly. While a hot meal might be of preference, you get what you can get. You even have enough remaining for a small meal still, mostly eating the stuff you looted from the previous room. How much water you have isn’t an issue. Thank goodness for a nearby source.
Using what remains of your thick shirt as a pillow, you let your head sink in. Your eyelids soon fail you, lulling you into sleep with the darkness it provides.
And so, the dream begins again.
Flesh restitches, made anew.
Vitality roams its course through the veins, life taking a stronger leash.
Molds of memories once held are bestowed once more.
Reaction and flexibility become natural, dexterity enhanced.
Pain of such changes pass just as you rest.
Yet, nothing is eternal.
The land of the living beckons.
And so, the dream begins again.
You wake up in a sweat.
Your irises sting, and your nerves are swollen. Prickles and the merest movement.
Sighing, you lay back down until it passes over. Maybe eight hours passed since you’ve been asleep, at least from what you can tell from your internal clock. The torch is somehow still burning in this room, despite how long it has been.
Five or so seconds later, and the dizzy spell passes. Whatever flaring that happened dissapears with it.
As you stand, you have the instinctive urge to stretch. Perhaps a habit from a life you no longer recall. No harm in doing so, and it was likely healthy even.
*pop* *pop* *pop*
Bones and muscles crackle and pop with the tension and the release thereof. It’s a calming thing, just like cracking your knuckles, but even more satisfying, and it kept going, almost like you had been asleep for years.
You feel much more limber as well, for some reason. The fight might have gotten you more connected with your body.
Checking the burns and whatnot, it doesn’t seem too bad actually. There were some welts where previously burned, some scabbing, though nothing else really. In fact, you might even feel better than you did before trying to kill it!
Wearing the nice and sturdy clothes once more, and donning the chain shirt, you head over to the strange stone out of interest. Had the display changed?
Tracing your fingers once more, it glows with an enthusiastic hum.
----------------------------------------
Name: ???
Age: ???
Gender: Female
Rank 2 Human Melee
Health: 28/28
Mana: 12/12
Strength: 8
Dexterity: 6
Constitution: 8
Charisma: 5
Intelligence: 5
Wisdom: 5
Melee Weapon Attack Bonus (10%)
Ranged Weapon Attack Bonus (10%)
Athletics Bonus (10%)
Dodge Bonus (5%)
Resist Bonus (5%)
Heavy, medium, or light Armor Bonus (5%)
Awareness Bonus (5%)
[https://i.ibb.co/NT7Bgdv/Female.jpg]
Female
* Immunity to abilities concerning Male gender requirements.
* Vulnerability to abilities concerning Female gender requirements.
[https://i.ibb.co/FK8Y8Q8/Melee.jpg]
Melee
Diehard - Once per forty-eight hours of rest, or after sixteen hours of no phsyical exertion, when you would normally be downed, you instead regain half your health, rounded up. You take a -10% penalty to all actions until you have a full night’s rest.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Battle Recovery - Each time a foe is downed, your relief takes physical form. Slain enemies restore 1 HP + Constitution.
[https://i.ibb.co/wLfhHhq/Human.jpg]
Human
Resist Control - ???
Human Focus - Humans are naturally able to adapt quickly. Gain an extra +2 in the starting statistics for your soul-path.
[https://i.ibb.co/wc4hR5d/Luck.jpg]
“I am one who bears luck.”
Blessing:
* You may choose to change the result of any action happening within sight. This comes back after a full night’s rest.
* You gain an additional 10% to luck based rolls.
* When rolling to determine future health, you may roll three times instead of two.
* ???
“Blessed by the voice.”
One use remaining.
----------------------------------------
Well, it seems that you had gotten more dexterous, according to this thing, as well as a good bit tougher. “I am blessed with luck” also apparently was the thing that saved you originally, and diehard kicked in after.
Now the interesting part was skills. While it was hard to understand what any of this meant when it talked about rolling the die and percentage bonuses, perhaps it simply meant you were going to be better at those skills? Was the dice is spoke of a metaphor for the probability of a certain future happening, and everything was merely a weighted roll of the dice?
Ugh, my brain. I’m good at hitting things, not thinking.
Something about a ‘Rank 2’ as well. Did it rate their improvement? Using this thing, could you perhaps guide your improvements in a certain direction you want? Maybe you needed to interact with it before resting to do that.
I feel almost as if I’ve used something like this before. Many times, actually.
Shaking your head and still slightly puzzled on what’s going on around you, you do a once over, light up your torch and hold it in your shield hand, and prepare to explore. Only this time, you have a light that has, in guesstimation terms, four hours.
Immediately upon opening the door however, brings a new issue.
Large hoof tracks, either bovine or equine, litter the hall. Deep scratches against the sides of the stone and in the door itself suggest a hard turn.
Nothing too worrying, were it not the fact that there wasn’t dirt to leave the tracks in. The stone floor was imprinted with the strength and weight of whatever passed through here.
And quickly enough, you manage to put two and two together. The tremors weren’t just tremors, it was shaking from whatever beast just stalked these halls.
A terrifying thought. Hopefully such a thing won’t pass by this area for a while.
Still, stopping due to fear will just lead to starvation, and you’d rather not meet that fate.
Entering the first doorway you went in, the room now dances with the color orange, revealing the contents of the cell. A half rotted corpse, a blade to its side, and rags on its back. A plant similar to that outside, only the shade of tar, enveloped much of its body, sickly green leaves sprouting from different parts of it almost seaweed in nature.
Trying the good condition key to the cell first works like a charm, allowing you to enter and try to grab the blade.
Flurry of action. Three words to describe the speed of which the skeleton grabs the shortsword and rises into action. Almost as if born to do so.
“Ah!”
Taken by surprise, a glancing blow skids into your cheek, dipping out just before hitting the lip. Staggering? No. Stinging like a bitch? Absolutely.
Its putrescent visage, however, doesn’t fail to strike a bit of fear into your heart.
An insult against the gods, to think the dead would rise once more! True witchcraft, necromancy that is! Is it even possible to take a life already snuffed?
Your grip tightens, it’s about time to find out.
Shoving their sword to the side with your shield hand, you raise your own and bring it down upon your foe.
Old flesh kneels before iron, and bone submits before brutal precision. The skull caves in as if powder, and the severing strike doesn’t stop, a complete vertical cut all along the backbone. The living dead writhes a bit as would a crushed bug, and yet with two halves split from whole, there is nothing but to cease. By some magical means, its own body falls in on itself and becomes an ashen substance.
You yourself are a little shocked. Though the enemy seemed to have been weaker than the flesh-arachnid, the mold skeleton still wouldn’t have normally been that easy. It definitely gives a feeling of strength.
Especially considering you split it lengthwise.
Dabbing your cheek a bit with your fingers, you come to realize that the wound isn’t as bad as it seemed. You thought for sure that you could feel the tip of the weapon grazing your teeth, but now it only seems like it went deep enough to scar.
Stepping around the black mold, you pick up the only thing of value remaining, besides maybe the chains connected to the wall, the shortsword. Though not as rusted, tossing it around between hands reveals a much lighter heft. You could use it effectively, but both the broadsword and shortsword would dish out the same amount of damage in your hands.
The next room, the water room, gives ample opportunity for a refill. Still, even with better lighting, there’s nothing to see here.
Moving on to the third room once more, you can easily tell the place is empty. That is, save an indent in the wall, picturing some sort of design made in an arrangement of tiles, three by three. However, four are missing. The picture, whatever it might be, is impossible to tell without the other pieces.
Next, the second room on the left, the fourth room. You manage to easily spot a corpse similar to that of the first cell. Not willing to take any chances, you unlock the cell and move in, leaping towards your foe.
As predicted, it begins to rise.
Reaching it before it reaches behind its back, you cut straight through the collarbone and intersections of its ribs.
Apparently, that isn’t enough.
Bony fingers grasp a shortbow, arrow aimed directly at your face.
Your expertise in combat allows for minute adjustment, the projectile puncturing your shoulder instead, snapping off as the rings of your chain ricochet back from the sudden jerking. No sturdiness to them, it seems.
Sweeping down again, the arrowhead stifles your movements at the worst moment, ripping into the marrow but making no fatal wound against something already dead.
Hearing the telltale whistling of the shortbow firing again, you maneuver into a crouching position, gripping the firing hand of the undead and smashing the hilt into the bridge of their nose.
It sinks in under the impact. You pin it for a bit longer, but soon enough it fades into the same almost-ash as before.
Steadying yourself, you must first take off the chain shirt before actually managing to rip out the arrowhead. Digging into the gouge, thankfully it didn’t break apart inside, and didn’t manage to pierce muscle.
Felt like it did though. Weird.
And now, time to get to the good stuff. Loot!
A shortbow, obviously, three arrows left to go with it, and a very homemade and patchwork quiver. Very homemade, considering it can only carry five. Though it wasn’t necessarily bad, considering it still manages to sling around the waist and is easy to draw from behind you.
Hey, now you were starting to look like a proper adventurer! Armor, a knife in the boot, a shortsword on the hip, equipment, a quiver behind you, and a shortbow and broadsword on your back! Though the quality of everything was questionable, things were finally starting to look up.
Leaving the room, you skip the next door on the right entirely. Even you could tell you weren’t properly equipped to handle the next room. Angering a horde of rats was not on the agenda, and just a single use of oil might not cut it.
Which means next is… alright, let’s do this.
The sixth cell room, one you caught a flash of movement in.
Now that you are properly hydrated, your body once more is able to break out in a cold sweat. It feels sticky and uncomfortable, the only reason it wasn’t more so was because you’ve been dirty since the beginning.
Here goes nothing!
Slamming it open in an attempt to gain the element of surprise, you hear a sudden rattling in response, as well as a… whimper?
What?
Slowing down your advance, you raise your torch so the fire reveals the entire room.
A humanoid shape covered in torn rags. Its body, whatever it might be, is turned around and recoiling from the light that entered the room. The shackles bind what would normally be around the wrist area, but it is hard to tell with all the misshapen lumps of cloth. Sizzling, reminiscent of the flesh-spider-thing from early rings clearly off the walls.
You raise your sword, unsure of what to do in this situation. On one hand, this thing seems to be in a sorry state. On the other, you’ve encountered nothing but enemies in this place, and with the agility it moved earlier it is clearly dangerous, much more so if that is really the same acid.
You don’t have much longer to decide, as even now it slowly begins turning around. Attack before it attacks you, or wait for it to act.
What is it that you do?
----------------------------------------
Character Description:
You are a human woman, having shoulder-length dirty blond hair (Though whether it's just because it's dirty is unclear.), though you can't quite tell what your features are like without a reflective surface.
You seem fit and muscular from what you can tell. You've got a few gashes, but nothing too bad. Not much else can be inspected due to the fact that you not only have thick clothes and on, but armor as well.
You currently carry an old, rusted broadsword in your right hand, and a shield & lit torch in the other.
Attatched to your belt loop is a small pouch to the right, waterskin and shortsword to the left, and a homestitched quiver on the back.
Items:
Torso: Undergarments, Thick Clothes (Dirty), Chain Shirt (Rusted, Dirty, Damaged), Shortbow
Legs: Thick Clothes (Dirty), Thick Leather Armor (Worn, Dirty), Side Pouch, Small Quiver (3/5 Iron Arrows), Shortsword
Feet: Wool Socks, Thick Leather boots (Worn, Dirty), Utility Knife (Rusted, damaged, dirty)
Hands: Thick Leather Gloves, Old Broadsword (Right Hand, Rusted), Heater Shield (Left Hand, Excellent Condition, Tough, Fancy), Torch (Left Hand, Lit)
Inventory -
Waterskin (Full), Tinder (One use), Flask of Oil, Matches (5), Rations (Small Meal, one use), Keyring (Key, Rusted Key), Silver Ring, Coin Purse (Copper (11), Silver (7), Gold (1 1/2))
Notes:
Map:
[https://i.ibb.co/n0Gw8HF/Map-3.jpg]
Runes:
[https://i.ibb.co/NT7Bgdv/Female.jpg]Female
[https://i.ibb.co/FK8Y8Q8/Melee.jpg]Melee
[https://i.ibb.co/wLfhHhq/Human.jpg]Human
[https://i.ibb.co/wc4hR5d/Luck.jpg]"I am one who bears Luck."