A rustling of leaves in the wind and a distant insect chirping welcomed him to the dawning of a new world. A galaxy distant from the chilly Iowan night, transported in a blink to somewhere warm and bright. As his eyes adjusted, he picked out bushes, a brief plain skirted by tall trees thick enough to block his view beyond. The color and build of everything was as alien as stepping into a painting and finding no way out.
A cloaked figure with a gnarled walking stick appeared from behind him, strolling past Chris, who remained semi-frozen in the stardust of their travel. “Welcome to Vignyia.” The man’s voice sounded of rock drawn on rock. “I’m Sylve, of the Wanderer class.”
He stopped in front of Tim and offered a hand to shake.
Tim took it and in their squeeze, a branch of unseen power entered Tim’s palm, sending roots plowing new land inside him.
Sylve’s brown eyes studied Tim with a look that said this test, and his unwillingness to release what was an obvious intrusion of wonder into Tim’s life, and not altogether pleasant.
Curiosity and a sense from Sylve’s gentle face and easy smile in his welcome inclined Tim toward trust.
“Hi, Sylve. I’m Tim. If you’re here to help, don’t let us slow you down with formalities.”
The bond in their handshake sent pins and needles similar to bloodloss, but in the miasma of energy making space within his veins, he felt more like he was gaining as well as interacting.
Chris was not kidding when he spoke of the marble door’s value. Power of the same ilk that transported them here evoked a chill of experience across every inch of Tim’s skin, to the point it lived as he lived.
“Can I get a clue what’s going on, here, Mr. Sylve the Wanderer of Vignyia?”
Sylve’s smile spoke of passing a test, and the agreement eased Tim’s spirit despite the surface of Mars's sensation working through him. “I’m here to be your gatekeeper and see you on your way before company arrives.”
He let go and issued a mumbled grunt as his attention shifted to Chris.
The tingling power from the Gatekeeper’s touch faded, thankfully as a dying fever.
“You’re brothers,” he squawked, tickled by the new information.
Tim thought he could squawk about a few things, but something about the man’s gravitas kept Tim enraptured. He only nodded, slow and careful as though granted passage by the supernatural force this strange man wielded.
“I had a brother once.” Sylve reached into his cloak and produced the muffled clatter of objects in a small space. He took out a bleached thin disc no bigger than a quarter with a two-tailed scorpion carved out of its center. “I’ll place this in your inventory for when we’re done.”
Tim opened his mouth and found his throat dry. His lips parted with the stickiness of hardened saliva. “Done?”
“This entry zone is where adventurers are given their clothing and class. I get a sense of your intentions, skill sets from your past life, and when we’re done, you’ll begin your journey.”
Tim cleared his throat, surprised to get that much out. “Past life?”
Sylve’s grin issued pity as much as an elder brother’s concern. “No one passes a Whisper Gate and considers their life as anything but new. Of course, I’ve had to put some down who failed my scan.”
Sylve’s hopeful face fell with a weight attached to his soul. “We Gatekeepers are fewer now than ever, so not as many as we would have liked have broken through.”
Tim struggled to imagine the being who could overpower this gentle giant or anyone like him.
“The coin should be held as a secret between you and your brother. If you can trust him.”
Why had he asked that? “Are you saying I shouldn’t?”
“Not at all. Only warning you of the mess you’ve stepped into. If you can trust your brother, good. Cling to that and be careful. I’ve seen all kinds of pairs enter only to see them part through the trials to come.
“You’ll know when the time is right to reveal it. I see in you the heart of a ranger. We don’t change races. Too jarring to the mind. You stay how you were born.” He tipped his staff to touch the furred foot on its end to the tip of Tim’s nose. A flush of power sizzled through his face and dissipated as it heated his veins and coursed down his neck. Vibrating pain coruscated across his nervous system like a pinball machine shooting crossbow bolts. Shooting pain seized into his fingers and toes.
Then stability. A calming of the waves to rest in a deep sea hidden under his skin.
In the surge, his clothes changed from rent-a-cop and mothballs to full-blown RPG Ranger with Zelda greens and authenticity. His new garb included the base package, with a loose-fitting tunic, leather pants, and tanned hide boots which were decently comfortable and smelled of adventure and outdoor living. The fit wasn’t luxurious, but fine enough to not complain.”
“Will these still fit if I get swoll?”
Sylve issued a cross between a snort and clearing his mouth. “You’re not going to get swoll without immediate upgrades. This is to keep you from being naked. You’re welcome.”
Tim’s hands and the rest of his body looked the same, as far as he could tell. He closed one eye to look at his nose. It didn’t help. But at least he hadn’t grown any tusks.
Fur-padded straps looped his shoulders with the light weight of a pack. On his belt, the prized possession, inside a gray furred and tanned leather sheath sat a dagger with a black and white swirled bone handle grooved to grip and get saucy. As one does, Rangering, he expected.
Tim’s grin could not be contained as he unlooped the top. He slid it out to reveal a sharp metal blade seven inches long with a jagged tooth underbite near the hilt. Beside it was a pouch tied with a yellow string. At the thought of what waited inside, a semi-transparent box appeared before him.
Inventory:
Hunter’s Pack: 6 medium slots
Small pouch: 10 small slots
* Slot 1: Wanderer’s Coin
Gotr bone Dagger: +6 Attack, +1.5 Weight, 10/10 Durability
Like probably every other American his age, Tim had played video games. So he was familiar with a User Interface. The come-to-life magic that produced it, on the other hand, was almost enough to make him piss in his boots. In Vignyia, it appeared, this was par for the course. Further questioning of what other information he could obtain caused the first window to blink out, replaced by another.
Name: Tim
Race: Human
Class: Ranger
Experience: Tier 1 - Level 1
Health Points (HP): 51
Magic Points (MP): 12
“The Ranger Class includes access to friendlies. If you reach a leveling inn, they will evolve with the XP earned in support of your survival. Your first will be of the Guide class.” Sylve snapped his finger.
A grasshopper appeared on his thumb, alien in the violet glow along the grooves in his skin and the strange swirling green mist that emanated from its wings. It looked strong enough to be king of a planet of grasshoppers.
“My pronouns are he and kicks your ass,” The grasshopper said in perfect English. Maybe a bit Norweigan, if he had to pick an accent. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m Norweigan.”
The bug shook his head and his wings flittered in frustration. “Tim, huh. Does that come with with an instruction manual?”
“Yeah, and it starts with Monty Python. What’s yours?”
The ass-kicker bug squinted his little eyes. “I’ll catch up on your memories of said Monty Python in time, though my guess is its as big of a joke as you. My full name is Dryfuri-ansaka. If hurting your brain less means calling me Dryfu, I’d rather you do that than be one of the many I’ve seen die so soon I forgot theirs.”
“Dryfu it is,” Tim said with forced cheer. “Unless we get more XP with me…”
“No, the Whisper’s not stupid. You’ll store XP from useful activities.”
“Are you okay? Do you need a safe space to unwind a little before we get to not dying?”
Sylve chuckled uncomfortably. “If I’d have been recently resurrected and on yet another life of permanent servitude, I’d be a little cranky too. Isn’t that right?” He lowered his finger to gently pat Dryfu’s head, but he swiped a wing fast enough to cleave it at the knuckle. He didn’t, thankfully, as Sylve was also quicker than he looked.
“Heh. Well, that feistiness is useful at times,” the Gatekeeper said. “It’s up to you how much you want to put up with. If you do, your familiar will guide you on your way and as he levels up, he should become more useful in a pinch. Keep him safe. XP zones reward you for acting with a surviving familiar. I will get your brother situated while you finalize your attributes.”
Dryfu fluttered off his hand and swayed in the air before landing on Tim’s stomach. Kicks Your Ass cocked his Aliens’ elongated head and stared up, its rolling purple eyes landed in position with black dots pointed his way. “Welcome to Vignyia, Ranger Tim.” His tone evoked mock subservience to whatever power enforced his servitude. Tim sympathized and hoped the guy would give him a chance before he checked Tim off as another stupid human. Tim, who one time stomped the sharp end of a nail in just his Reboks, and definitely found out, but hopefully not so dense as to die in ten minutes. They both had his utmost attention.
“Our first step will be rolling for your attribute points.” Dryfu extended a hand to Sylve, who produced a glowing blue die, before the familiar continued, “As a human, you gain a racial bonus of +2 to Intelligence, but a -1 to Constitution.”
“Plus two what?”
“Don’t get smart,” Dryfu said, leveling a wing at Tim. “Two is better than one. Right now it looks like you’re a negative two, after the upgrade.”
“But my tall is what, like a hundred?”
Dryfu spit some rapid-release gibberish and swept his wing to shoot an angled current of air hard enough to crack a short line across a rock nearby. “Moving on so I can get to my next host. You have six categories to allot your AP.”
As he spoke, the words appeared in a HUD-style transparent wall, glowing so he could read them even as he moved his head.
Strength - Physical power for attack and defense.
Dexterity - Agility and precision in movement.
Constitution - Stamina and regeneration of health.
Wisdom - Ability to apply knowledge to the circumstance, and for magic users, represents the ability to harness and manipulate spell power.
Intelligence - Ability to gather and comprehend information pertinent to your circumstance. For magic users, it represents the mind’s capacity to learn.
Charisma - Represents how the world perceives you, with a higher score impacting your ability to influence your will upon it.
“As a ranger, you’ll start with the skills of Tracking, Riding, and Small Blades. These tend toward surviving more in a transient lifestyle, adapting to new locations and circumstances. Beyond that, it’s up to you to evolve new skills through how well you use what you’re given. A ranger could settle down, but you’ll likely never be able to stifle the desire for adventure and travel. Skills diminish without use, so I don’t recommend taking it easy quite yet.”
“Thank you, Dryfuri-ansaka.”
The bug’s eyes narrowed slightly and his head cocked a degree. “Respect and intelligence. Okay, Tim. You’re welcome. Like I said, Dryfu is good for now. Are you ready to roll for your attributes?”
Tim laughed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think I’d ever hear that and it not be make-believe.”
“I can shoot a wind pelt up your nose if you’d like a quick reminder of how real this is?”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“No. No. That sounds… interesting. I’m good. Appreciate the offer to share your gifts, though. Five stars.” Not like he had a choice. He didn’t have to ask to know that a trip back to middle class American life was off the table.
A twelve-sided die appeared in his hand.
Dryfu waited on his back legs and used his forelegs to scratch at his jaw as though nothing out-of-the-ordinary were happening.
Why not? Tim tossed the die toward the grass. It fell and rebounded with a magical flight pattern back up to his hand.
9
“Good, now again,” Dryfu said.
Tim tossed the die:
3, 1, 9, 5. 3
“Ugh, one? What?—”
“You have one minute to assign those to your attributes. If you put that one into Intelligence I’ll bite you in the eye. And mean it.”
Well then… Dryfu did not look like he was joking. He flashed some tiny pointed teeth and Tim knew he wasn’t.
He went down the list contemplating which one would be least detrimental. In the end, he picked constitution for his 1, reasoning that, while it would suck anywhere, careful planning, being patient, and maybe spending time and resources on defense could outweigh the downsides of low stamina and regeneration. If there was anyone who knew what it was like to push on with a 1 in health, it was him. It sucked to not escape that in this “new” body, but he had a plan. He could always put the one in Intelligence and then he’d never know if it was a good one or not.
Would you focus on actual decisions, please?
Okay, okay. Not like telepathy is helping or anything. “If I put the 1 in Constitution, will my racial unbonus—if that’s a word— of -1 put me at a zero?”
“Your unbonus?” Dryfu closed his eyes in annoyance. “No. You can’t have a zero. That would kill you. Since this a safe zone, and you can’t die, you would experience a loophole so to speak, with that choice.”
“What about if I leave?”
“You could die, but these numbers are locked in once your timer expires. It can’t lock in at zero.”
“So it would stay a one.”
“Correct. If you don’t pick, the rest of the numbers will be chosen at random.”
Tim put the 1 into Constitution. Instantly, his new body stiffened. A twist knotted in his low spine. Great. His muscle mass was thinner than on Earth, which was pretty bad because he wasn’t exactly buff before. Thicker than this new bookworm physique, though.
With that chosen, he looked at his two 9s. As a player, he tended toward the min/max strategy over being well-balanced. If you have a party where everyone focuses on their strengths, they can overcome each other’s weaknesses. The risks are if you get separated or debuffs create management difficulties.
As a ranger, he saw himself as being on the front lines of danger. Hopefully, he’d gain a party at some point, but his transient lifestyle might mean being alone and needing to take care of himself—and his brother, he hoped. That put him in a difficult spot not knowing what his brother was picking, or how long before he found a party to hide his weaknesses in battle.
He’d never played as a Ranger before, but a quick scan of the class card confirmed his suspicions. It was a hunting-type class that used terrain to its strength. He put 9 into Dexterity, picturing himself more as the horse rider with a bow needing good aim over the grunt forced to rely on brute strength. A hunter would need strength, but agility in the hunt and being able to hit a moving target was more important than straight line charging and overpowering the prey.
The other 9 he put in Wisdom. With the racial bonus on Intelligence at +2, that helped him decide which of the mental choices would get the 9. He put 5 into Strength, deciding, while he didn’t need brute force, he spent enough of his life on earth with a bad back feeling weak. His decision on Constitution as his weak point required a balance into Strength. Those choices put his two 3s into Intelligence and Charisma with seconds to spare.
Player Attributes locked in:
Str 5, Dex 9, Con 1 (-1 to future upgrades), Wis 9, Int 3 (+2 racial bonus), Char 3
Sylve tapped his rabbit foot staff to Chris’s nose, setting him free from the frozen halo. His hoodie and jeans transformed into a brown robe with tan brocaded bare tree branches decorating his belt and the hem of his hood and sleeve. A thin stick with a hollow knot at the top fit into his right hand.
Up popped a small bear-like creature into his shoulder, yawning to expose his pink gums and oversized front fangs before chomping back down and licking his lips.
Chris wagged his brows at Tim’s attention, especially the bear cub. “You like that? It’s a klandrog.” He shrugged. “They’re drawn to wood sorcerers.”
“W—”
“Welcome once again,” Sylve interrupted. “The safe zone will disappear with me, so seek shelter before nightfall. Your entry will be felt by magic users as well as your scent by hunter-predators in the area.”
“Are there?” Tim asked.
Sylve tucked his lips. “Most likely. Your token has brought you to Wendalces, a small city within Wachamia on the first month of the Volkin Hunt. Representatives from the Six Pillars have already arrived in preparation for the annual contest to win the Leveling Jewel. Predators and hunters from all the other continents will join them. Somewhere across this continent, the jewel will be hidden as each pillar fights for survival and to find it once the leaves fall. Every year hundreds are lost to the perils of the forest. Nevertheless, welcome to Vignyia. May your purchase bring you what you came for.”
The wizened old man tapped his staff on the ground and a pillar of smoke enveloped him.
Leaving Tim alone with his brother, a talking grasshopper and—
I hear your thoughts. Stop calling me a grasshopper, Two legs.
Dryfu hopped off and swatted his wrist with a hard wing. The tap hit hard enough to jolt a nerve, numbing his hand. In surprise and fear, he yanked it back, shaking his wrist to try and return the feeling to his hand. The little bastard took 3 Hit Points off his total.
Dryfu took flight, wings humming to keep him steady at Tim’s eye level. Dryfu’s head was like a drop of green rain evolved violet eyes on the sides of his face, all hardened in the fires of the seven hells into the narrow cut of its jawline and tank structured exoskeleton. His aerodynamic-sleek form combined with the Spring Green carapace and eyes like flower buds could blend in with nature or strike from the shadows. Black dots hidden in lines of lighter violet streaks surrounded by darker purple swirls marked the camouflage pupils staring back at Tim.
“Don’t patronize me. I’m more than an optical illusion. I was a Commander, Level 64 before I died and woke to your pretty blue eyes. Now I’m back to Level One: Stykiller Guide.” Dryfu sighed. “The Whisper has taken so much from me. I’m sorry. It’s tough.”
What’s a sty killer?
“It’s pronounced stick killer.”
Dryfu feigned striking with his forelimbs, unfolding praying mantis like appendages with pointed hooks for hands.
Tim pulled his knife and guessed at the subtle wing carving under the decoy appendage hooks slashing at his throat. Tim blocked the wing with the flat of his blade, glad to see his hand eye coordination wasn’t a complete start over.
Good.
Tim appreciated the mentor’s handicap on allowing a bit of that block to work.
You have evolved the Self Defense skill and sub-category of Parrying. XP earned in these areas will now be stored for the leveling jewel.
Dryfu flapped in a waving pattern before him.
We can practice more soon. For now, we should find a more defensible position not out in the open.
The grassland area was about an acre wide surrounded by tall trees with long branches full of fat leaves with yellow-lined underbellies.
You have evolved the Forestry skill. Those are Afyl trees. Lots of delicious bugs live inside, as well as a syrup edible for you and your brother. The berries aren’t without an artificer’s touch or a good cook and several other ingredients.
Dryfu floated away and hovered with a glance over his shoulder until Tim followed.
Now was his turn to glare, at his brother. “Dude.”
It didn’t help that Chris looked like he’d just won $50k on a dollar scratch-off ticket. He got tied up with his little bear on his heels and bent to help the fresh ball of gray fur and black paws. “I know!” He stage whispered. “Isn’t this amazing?! And you got the ranger class! That’s perfect!”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ll tell you in a bit, let’s get down to that ridge.”
Tim’s questions about how they got here lost ground as his perception of their setting filled his mind with information. He noticed the downward slope and maneuvered them so they wouldn’t be taken from behind.
Your Self Defense skill has expanded with the sub-category of: Fleeing.
Would you like to assign Deciduous Forest as your natural habitat? It will add bonuses to navigation, attacks, defenses, and resource gathering.
Not yet. Thank you. I want to get a feel for this world and where we’ll be first.
On the run, he traced smells from the trees, but also a hint of something tangy as his attention locked on a grove of small trees with yellow and red fruits like hanging coffee mugs.
Your Forestry skill has expanded with the sub-category of: Foraging.
You have gained the ability to harvest goods with a small boost to the amount you and quality of what you collect. Level 1 AOE: is two feet. Expanded skill use will allow you to reap greater bounties with every Forage.
He gathered up an armful and chomped into one of the sweet fruits while Chris finished collecting a few more. Somehow, Tim had been able to collect and eat and come away with three more than Chris before the bush was cleared.
The fruit tasted like an orange mixed with the firm texture and juicy explosion of a ripe apple. It boosted Tim’s energy in a weird way, similar to how you can eat chocolate or sweets even though your stomach is full from the main course. This filled a hollow leg storing something altogether different than vitamins and nutrients.
Yes, but that’s good for now, Dryfu said. You’ll get a cramp Mr. Constitution 1.
Along the dirt around the trees he found tracks of small creatures.
Your Forestry skill and Tracking skill have expanded with the sub-category of Animal Signs.
Your level is not high enough to trace the kind of animal, only that multiples of one species have been here.
They soon left the grove and its wide pathways to continue running downhill. A faint but steady trickle of energy he could tell identified as Fleeing XP tingled across his muscles as he ran. It felt good. More than just the high of a good jog. This was alien to his senses, and he could see it becoming addictive. Even though his Constitution was low, he still felt better than he had on Earth. Here he could run without crippling lower back pain. His stamina was poor and he hadn’t been punched in the nose yet, but he was doing alright.
On top of that, the fuel of XP, though small, created a sense of freedom in performing one of his skills. This was surprisingly fun. Not his first choice if he could choose, but as long as they stayed alive it wasn’t bad at all.
His higher points into Dexterity showed themselves as his feet found right placement jogging down a slope. He scouted an indented patch of sticks and leapt over them to avoid the noise and possible trap. The slope bent into a gap in the bushes wide enough for them to not get stuck or cornered as they progressed toward a cliff edge that ran around the valley to the other side of the forest.
He cut between the bushes with tiny red leaves and bristles toward a cave not a hundred yards from their position. “There.” He didn’t see another entrance and so far no tracks brought any threats to this sideways trek.
They reached the cave with Tim feeling more alive than he had in years. It reminded him of the last time he and Chris played paintball. Except instead of air compressed weapons, he had a dagger, a talking grass—stykiller and two icons with pending red dots on their knife and mountain shape in his HUD view waiting for him to choose his enemy and terrain bonuses.
The valley below stretched for miles before another range of hills taller than theirs blanketed the horizon in thick green trees with spots of color changing to the bleed of fall. In spots between trees were bushes of red, blue stalks and yellow budded ground flowers.
Chris tugged at thin roots exposed at the front of the cave. “Mind helping me with that dagger?”
“What’s this for?” Tim asked, sawing at the root with the serrated section of his hunting knife. For a beginning item, it felt sturdy, had a sturdy blade and the cutting edge appeared sharp, the tip nice and pointy.
“I need to ingest wood to get it in my blood before I can cast a spell.”
“Do you have any spells yet?” Tim didn’t want to commit to either his sworn enemy or natural habitat until he learned more about where they were going and what they would face.
“I’ve got nothing. Just that my body metabolizes plants into spells, so I guess I ought to start eating.”
A smoothened section of dirt along the edge of the cave prompted a tingle in his eyes.
Animal sign - back scratching detected.
His chest constricted. Whatever could stand tall enough to scratch its back on that and that wide would likely overpower them at level one. He sniffed and confirmed another animal sign—sour meat. Didn’t know what to make of it, but another tingle passed through his nose.
“Smell that?” Chris whispered.
“Yeah. Thinking we find another hideout.”
Not a bad…
A low growl sounded from one then two canines peaking their heads out of the shadows. Flies fled from their bloody maws. Parts of their meal dangled from their fangs. “Roger Lv 3 and Lv 2” lit their species and level over their shoulders. While an odd name for a species, he did know a Roger who looked a little like them, the way their coats were spotted and faces snarly like a hyena. His old friend didn’t have snouts or horns jutting out like a warthog, but the beauty was comparable.
He missed Roger.
Roger Lv 3, not so much. The beast snorted and took another step.
“Get back!” Tim shouted.
They jerked back, then, possibly because he hadn’t committed to taking the fight to them, broke into a charge.
Tim backtracked to the brow of the path. At the last second, he juked left and spun the other way. A horn stabbed his thigh. He shoved the roger’s backside, and lost leverage as it fought back. The beast’s back feet pushed through the dirt, and it leapt into Tim. Whipping its head to the side, its horn tore through Tim’s quad muscle. Hot pain surged through his leg.
He fell backward, knowing if he hit the ground, that might be the end. With a second between then and now, he turned into the horn. His HP sank below 40, but this was it. He wound down and stabbed into the roger. His blade cut through the tough hide, slicing between its upper back and into its brain.
The beast’s wheezing ended as soon as the tip of his knife severed its brain stem.
Lv 2 impaled Chris in the chest and the two flew over the edge. His bear cub clung to his shoulder, helpless to stop them. Dryfu took wing and flew after, faster than Tim had seen him yet.
Tim leaned over the ledge.
Twenty feet down the hill, Chris’s fall ended in the arms of a tree growing from the side of the cliff face. Blood splatter stained the white bark, but Tim couldn’t see any critical wounds on his brother. The roger was stuck between him and the tree but wasn’t moving, meaning he hoped that blood was from the roger. His bear scratched its way back to its owner safely.
“Chris!”
His brother twitched and tried pulling his arm out from under him. “Help.”
Tim wrestled his knife from the beast he killed. Black haired flesh clung to the ridges.
Loot?
The roger? Tim asked Dryfu’s notification.
No, the sailboat full of woxam bugs. Yes, the roger.
Yeah. Loot it, please and thank you. Tim pictured broken ribs and fretted over the chance his brother had internal bleeding, but his guide wanted to argue over dumb questions.
The roger decompressed into a puff of dark smoke and filtered into the tiny hole in Tim’s pouch. He didn’t wait for a receipt before sliding down the scree toward Chris.
Once in line with the slanting trunk, dread stole through him. Vibrant red blood leaked from Chris’s front.
Crap!
A branch stuck into his gut. Short, wheezing breaths came and went as Chris’s focus waned. His gaze found Tim, and he couldn’t tell if he was dying or just delirious.
“Don’t move.” He couldn’t believe his brother was about to leave him again, maybe for the last time. “How do I evolve field medic or whatever?” Tim asked Dryfu.
“It’s not a vending machine,” Dryfu said aloud. “Use what you’ve been given to evolve something new.”
He thought of his Foraging skill but couldn’t see anything of use from this height. Mostly just bare branches and roots along the cliff face. Moss that didn’t register as anything.
Blood soaked through Tim’s pants from his own wound but failed to usurp Chris’s needs. “Will picking this type of terrain as my habitat help?”
“If you do, you’ll gain knowledge of plant properties, the ability to learn spells based on fauna in this area, and your stealth boosts would apply here.”
“Do it.”
Ranger Habitat chosen - Deciduous Forest
The tree Chris laid on identified as Folos El Sinuous. - Known for resilient wood useful for tools, rope and weapons.
He scanned the slope and several species of plants until one stood out with interest. A description likewise pinged above one of the yellow curly q’ noodles hanging from the orange flower petals: Arcus - medicinal use: regenerative properties.
“Hang on, Chris.” Tim reached his leg for the next foothold.
“Wait.” Chris grunted in pain and closed his eyes. His bear licked an open gash on his forehead. 5/57 HP read in the air. “My staff.” His draped hand formed a finger pointing down.
At the bottom of the fall, a good hundred feet below, stood his staff stuck between two boulders.
Tim cursed.
“Please,” Chris struggled to speak. “I… need it.”
Another HP point was deducted from his brother’s total. Tim steeled his nerves and picked the best path to slide down the sharp decline of hard dirt, rock and… Tim hopped for a groove and bore the burn through his pants as he slid down, increasing speed well past danger and into the open arms of stupid.
This quest had Chris’s face all over it.