We stepped into the swirling vortex of magic and I had the very distinct sensation that I just moved in an entirely new direction to the three dimensions i was used to. Mark just projectile vomited against one of the walls made of an odd pale stone.
“Did not like that” he muttered. I looked around to get an idea how much trouble we were in.
The long hallway itself was plain as could be. It had plain undressed stone walls of a pale beige that wasn’t quite sandstone in texture. The dim light that originated from the swirling entry behind us was supplemented by a dusting of fingernail sized glowing crystals along the ceiling. As I took this all in I felt and heard more than saw a faint whistling and whooshing sound. I shot my hand out and caught a rough blade carved of obsidian by the handle. Marc yelped in surprise as the tip of the blade was an inch from his neck. Normally I would stare in a lock at how I had done that but adrenaline is a hell of a drug. My eyes followed the knifes path back to a short, grayish green humanoid with a carrot length nose and two long floppy pointed ears. “ A goblin?” I hear Marc ask. It looks half like the harry potter bankers and half like the greenskined pests from fantasy writ large. Regardless those thoughts flited past my mind as I returned the dagger to its owner. Point first to the scrawny chest. It then Accrued to me I had very likely just broken a world sprinting record in my dash to our opponent. It let out a chuff sound as it collapsed, ribs half laserated and mostly collapsed from the force of the stab. I felt my brain follow two different branches of focus. The first broke down my surroundings and the four more goblins within my semingly prodigious striking range.
The combat thread as I dubbed that line of cognition started planning a route of violence and death and acted upon it. The thread I was calling the observation line allowed me the odd privilege of spectating my own swift movements and leathal blows.
It wasn’t much of a guess that I was over leveled for this Well. Observer line feed tactical analysis, suspected weak points, and critical feedback like the armchair general it was. Combat Thread took that information and applied it to killing faster and cleaner after each foe felled. I stood above the five diminutive corpses as they dissolved into dense clouds of motes and willed those motes to myself.
I felt powerful, this isn’t even how my build was supposed to work. I felt something in that exact moment, this is exactly what I was ment to be doing with my life. Years of trying and failing to be still, having to spend my limited time and attention to things that simply didn’t matter to me. The violence, the risk and reward, and not the least the certainty that magic was real and mine to command. “ you good there buddy?” the question came from a voice I scarcely recognized. Marc looked scared. His normaly dark brown skin looked drained of blood and his eyes were looking at me like I was a wild beast. In the dim reflection in this eyes I saw myself covered in blood that was slowly evaporating into magic and a smile from a slasher film across my face.
“yeah just got a little caught up up in the moment. We seem to be in a goblin themed dungeon. Well, I mean.” “ uh huh, sure.” I pick a small obsidian tipped spear and hand it to him. “ Thanks, what am I going to do with this?” I give him a befuddled look. “ You kill goblins and level Mr. Warrior” I replied. He gives me a nervous look and awkwardly shuffles his feet, before planting them more firmly and straightens his back. He looks like a hero from a story save for the hoodie and basketball shorts. “ I’m ready, let’s move on.” “ Hey what was your charisma to start ?” I asked. “9, but I didn’t like any of the professions. They felt weak.” I just stared at him afraid to ask the question that would make me feel inadequate, which given the ego boost of the last few momnents might be in order. “ how many of your stats were over 5” I asked anyway. “ All of them but Aura and Willpower.” My humility firmly rebuilt I gestured onward and for him to take the lead.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
We encountered two more groups of five as the hallway twisted and turned, never making quite a right angle. It gave a sense that we were going downhill even though the floor was level as far as I could tell. Marc needed help with the first one but managed most of the second group alone. As he leveled up he noticeably improved his speed and skill. He opted to use a club dropped by the first of the two groups. The results were grizzly. At the end of the long winding hall we came across a large open room with a larger than normal goblin, I was going to call it a hobgoblin, standing about 5 foot 5 inches. I held a full length spear in hand, chain mail across its torso and a firm steel cap on its head. Fucking DnD and four decades of giving people ideas. I swear that if I ever have to kill a gazebo I will personally piss on Gary Gygax’s grave. A page opened before me
“
Oath accepted, For being the first non paladin to take up a vonlentary oath under the system you gain the title ‘Oath Taker’.
“
Okay… I need to be careful with that. My apologies Mr. Gygax if it comes to that. I really don’t want to know what the system does to Oath Breakers.
In the minuscule time it took me to read and understand my poor life choices, Marc had started his charge at the Hob. I followed intent on a flank and dispatch maneuver but at that moment I felt the last piece of forge spell click into place. DnD had two spells known the world over. The best known and likely most loved would be fireball. The second was the one I needed though. I cast out my hand and willed three darts of fast, unerring force to fly forth. In DnD monsters have nice little hit pools that get shaved away untill dead. This Hobgoblin had brains. The three darts struck true and efficiently blew holes in the Hobs head. with seven eighths of its grey matter now splattered behind it the Hob toppled with a clank to the ground. A truly huge cloud of motes erupted from its slain form and flew to the two of us and Marc wound down his charge and lost what little was left of his lunch. “ Dammit man, that was horrible! Awsome, but holy fuck!” he exclaimed as he wipped his mouth clean of bile. I meanwhile was looking stunned at my hands and the little secret I had unlocked. Greater Spell: Book Channeling feed into Spell Forging. If I had the juice I could make any spell I had ever read about. With the modern boom in literacy and the printing press that would be horrifying. With access to social media and the theory crafting of horrible, inhuman, and frankly broken spells I was a nightmare. “So what’s with the chest?” Marc’s voice rang out from across the room pointing to the blood spattered back wall and a previously noticed chest.
I looked at it for a moment and decided it wasn’t likely a mimic. I blew it apart with my new spell for funnsies. “ ah, warn a brother before you blow shit up” his short shout was largely forgotten when he picked up a wooden stick and a chainmail covered cloth gambeson. “Loot!” we both exclaimed. I tried something on a hunch. I focused on the spell Identity from DnD but took a look at the runes in my minds eye. I got a sense comparing the runes in magic middle and Identify that I should be able to treat these runes as a kind of magic code. I also realized that made no sense at all. The runes themselves seemed like random shapes, much less if magic is about intent then why would there be a specific magic launguage? I cast Identify and shelved my thoughts for a better time. The stick registered as a wand and the chainmail as chainmail. Surprise surprise, I thought sarcastically. I looked at Marc and said “ let’s get out of here. I’ve got a plan”