There were more than a hundred thousand stories where some hapless person was reborn into another world as a savior. Die, wake up in the new world, select a name, get a class, have a video game-like HUD, and dominate the volatile local situation. Usually, there was a demon lord, some monster, a world-ending event, or something. That… hadn’t happened in this case. Oh, some of it had, of course. She’d started right, and she’d followed the formula.
She had a mundane life. Nothing exhilarating. A retail job in a big-box electronic’s store. No friends. No romance. No family, no life. She loved video games. She even managed to step out into a street and get run over by a truck; when some guy grabbed her arm, she pulled away, running into the street to flee him! It was practically a guarantee that she was going show up somewhere with crazy awesome powers and proceed to deliver massive beat-downs. Right? Except… that wasn’t really what had happened.
Then there was the void of death, where glowing letters directed her to input her name. She input her usual gamer tag, Kamog. And then it happened! Once again, living out the cliche, she’d met a ‘goddess’! She was metaphorically vibrating with excitement as she waited for the goddess to tell her she was the chosen one and all the neat advantages she would get to start with in her new life.
This was the first moment she realized that things were going wrong. The goddess was everything one would expect. Unearthly beauty, a soul-shaking presence. In this case, tall, muscular, pale-skinned, dark-haired, with electric blue eyes, and wearing nothing but a white toga held up with a golden clasp. Very Athenian. “I am Selenae, and you are a… mistake.”
Well, shit. Perhaps she was in one of those situations writers went with sometimes? She’d been given a second chance with cool powers because she wasn’t supposed to die, and the goddess had made a mistake. Probably to keep anyone from noticing she’d messed up as she was part of some godly bureaucracy?
“This happens from time to time. The cosmic movement of the planes brings certain dimensions and layers of reality very close together. With enough energy, you can reach out and pull something through. We were TRYING to pull through the soul of a young man of exceptional virtue to lead my theocratic empire. He was in the process of trying to keep you from stepping out into the street. He was supposed to die in your place heroically. Now…”
Her stomach sank. This was beginning to look less and less like all those stories she’d read. Still, she tried to maintain an optimistic outlook. So the man she’d been running from had been trying to save her… That was embarrassing, but she would still get crazy-unfair powers, right?
Selenae shook her head, exasperated, and said, “Now the channel is blocked until I finish moving you through it. It costs a certain amount of power to transfer souls across the plains, and the only way to unclog this one is to put you somewhere.” This was it! She was finally going to reincarnate! “I’m not going to waste a lot of power I could spend on another attempt, so I’m just going to dump you on Typhon. You haven’t even earned this much consideration, but I am not entirely cruel.”
She opened her mouth to protest when the goddess snapped her fingers. And like that, she was no longer in a void, which was cool. What was less cool was that she was now in a swamp. The first thing she noticed was dark black twisting trees jutting from the muddy ground and among patches of wet earth in the middle of dark water and a pair of silver moons sitting in the night sky. The smell of rot and decay assaulted her sense of smell, adding to the overwhelming over-stimulation of the last… well, however long it had been since she died.
Her back was wet and, she assumed, muddy, with all sorts of uncomfortable prickly things beneath her. Thankfully, she wasn’t naked. It felt like she was wearing some kind of wool covering and a scratchy one with thick, clumsy sandals. She was sure her hair was matted with mud, and she had no idea how to wash it now. Being reincarnated as a ‘dirty peasant’ was secondary to being alone, in a new world, in a swamp, with no food, water, or shelter.
Having decided to get straight to the business of surviving, she wisely started with about ten minutes of crying. Of course, she didn’t stop crying after ten minutes. She merely stood up, continued crying because she knew how to multi-task, and started to call out words, hiccuping. “System! Status! Stats! Sheet! Character!” With increasing panic, she cried out various words to bring up her ‘character sheet.’ She had to have one, right?
Fortunately, the train of disappointment and failure had to end somewhere. After a few minutes of saying everything she could think of to display her ‘stats,’ she lapsed into a defeated silence, desperately willing herself to find a way to make her sheet appear before her like in any other respectable isekai novelization. Surprisingly, this worked, and the next thing she knew, golden words began to scroll in her vision, followed by relief.
Biographical Record
Name: Kamog Class:
Well. That was underwhelming in the extreme. Perhaps the rolling boulder of her success in this world would only start after choosing her class. Feeling disgruntled, Kamog mentally prodded her character sheet until she finally managed to trigger a menu for choosing her class. Yet again, disappointment was the order of the day as she looked over her available choices.
Choose a Class
Acolyte: “Yes, my goddess!” Serving a particular deity or divine concept has really caught your eye. For now, you’re still just trying to find mysteries, let alone be inducted into them. This is the start of the path of the holy wo/man.
Apprentice: “Welcome, apprentice!” If acquiring a trade is your desire, look no further! Find yourself a master, and learn at his feet as you seek to craft mundane stables and wonders alike. This is the start of the path of the artisan.
Brawler: “You’ve never met a face you didn’t want to punch!” You like a good fight, and you’re not too afraid to take a hit if that’s what it takes to win. If that's what it takes to win, you’ll happily throw chairs, headbutt, or shiv your foes with your dinner knife. This is the start of the path of the warrior.
Busker: “Don’t forget to tip your bard!” You like attention. In fact, you want attention so much; you actually decided to make getting attention your job. Maybe you tell an excellent joke. Perhaps you can make a guitar sing like an angel. Maybe people love hearing you talk? This is the start of the path of the performer.
Grunt: “Fall in line, soldier!” Enjoy Marching in straight lines with functionally identical other people and facing danger in massed formations? Learn to rely on your brothers in arms for unparalleled military might. This is the start of the path of the soldier.
Hooligan: “No, officer, I don’t know how that got in there!” Some people don’t like working for a living, and others don’t enjoy life in the spotlight. Whatever the case, you have decided to take what you need from society rather than contribute to it. This is the start of the path of the rogue.
Menial: “Sir? I work for a living!” Some people like the simplicity of direct labor. Maybe you mine, hauling ore and gems out of the ground, or perhaps you harvest lumber… There are many possibilities! Repetitive, grueling, physical labor is your jam. This is the start of the path of the laborer.
Student: “I can’t go to the inn; I have an examination to study for!” You would rather read a good book most of the time than throw a punch, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Maybe you like chronicling your observations or love the rigid formality of ritual magic. This is the start of the path of the scholar.
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Wytchling: “By the chanting of this rhyme, let all know your heinous crime!” There are many paths to magic, but you decided to trade reliability for a taste of the strange, exotic, and often powerful! Either you feel you’ve found a way to avoid the consequences of such unreliable magic, you consider the benefit worth the cost, or perhaps you need power right now. This is the start of the path of the witch.
Ooooh! Fun stuff! Finally, the crying could cease. Her path to power. So what if the goddess didn’t want to follow the script? The more awful the start for an isekai protagonist, the more powerful they are at the end of the mythical ‘cone of hate.’ So logically, she should also choose something high-risk to maximize the reward, right? Right.
“System, I choose Wytchling!” There was a moment of silence while she waited for some response. Then, after a moment to sigh, she mentally prodded her choice. And like that, the golden words began to scroll across her vision again.
Patronage
As a young wytchling, your first order of business is to select a patron. As you grow in the wytching arts, your connection to your patron will grow, providing you with powers, spells, skills, and in many cases, unique resources and knowledge in exchange for allying, serving, or even paying them (often in esoteric currencies). A list of patrons willing to sponsor you has been compiled based on your background, inclinations, and personality.
Bal-Kadash: Demon Emperor of the lower planes, Bal-Kadash offers power freely to almost anyone willing to bargain for it, asking only that the recipient of these rewards sacrifice souls to him. He is often the most direct and easy-to-understand of patrons due to the strictly transactional nature of his bargains. He places no limits on the behavior of his contractors. His bestowments focus mostly on violence and soul magic.
Initial Bestowment: Ephemeral Grasp
Initial Skill: Hellfire Dart
Familiar: Petty Imp
Crassus of the Darkness: A ghost that has grown in power beyond all reckoning, Crassus possesses power now that some deities would be hard-pressed to challenge. By this point, he has evolved into something… more. Crassus, even during life, was a stealthy man. Thief, assassin, burglar. This didn’t end even after his life did. He merely moved on to more esoteric targets. While the legends say he got his position by stealing a piece of divinity, the truth is far more strange, though it is only for Crassus to say. Typically, people of a larcenous bent contract with Crassus. He is one of the only patrons to take sacrifice in the form of coin (though only stolen).
Initial Bestowment: Cloak of Shadows
Initial Skill: Ephemeral Step
Familiar: Writhing Shadow
The Ever-Hungry Star: The Ever-Hungry Star is one of the most unfathomably ancient beings known in the multi-verse. It occupies the Sea of Oblivion, a layer of the far outer reaches of reality. It is said that the Ever-Hungry Star knows secrets one cannot find from any other source in the multiverse. It asks nothing of its contractors, accepts everyone interested in contracting it, and indeed, most wonder if it is even aware, in its insanity, of what it is doing. People looking for unrestricted freedom and those looking to avoid higher powers' gazes tend to contract with this Patron. While it asks for nothing, contractors often pay with their sanity.
Initial Bestowment: Alien Fate
Initial Skill: Maddening Cackle
Familiar: Celestipus
Grontag, Keeper of the Elixir: An ascended mortal, Grontag is the Keeper of the Elixir, as his title would suggest. While little is known about this man’s human life, Grontag discovered a wondrous substance called ‘The Elixir.’ Consumption of the Elixir improves every parameter of a person’s existence, body, mind, and soul, and, when perfected, ascends one to something… MORE. Grontag offers formulas to his contractors of increasing rarity in exchange for the sacrifice of notes on their experiments. It is rumored that with enough devotion, Grontag will share a draught of the Elixir that allowed him to ascend. His contractors are often people obsessed with self-improvement and alchemical experimentation.
Initial Bestowment: Iron Stomach
Initial Skill: Explosive Improvisation
Familiar: Walking Cauldron
The Lifewell: All aspected mana has a sub-plane in the Ephemeral Abyss, and the Lifewell IS that sub-plane for vital mana. Usually visualized as a coruscating pillar of blue light welling up from the ground of a verdant jungle, the Lifewell is one of the more difficult beings for others to understand. Its powers and its demands are simple things. It gives abilities useful for healing and the nurturing of life. In exchange, it demands its contractors labor to grow things (most commonly expressed in farming) and never refuse someone who requests healing. Wytches who contract with the Lifewell are usually welcome in most civilized locales.
Initial Bestowment: Hale Body
Initial Skill: Infuse Vitality
Familiar: Psuedo-Phoenix
Mother Murder: One of the lords of the Ephemeral Abyss, Mother Murder is often visualized as a vast flock of crows with golden eyes. She is known to visit people in dreams, frequently delivering omens of ill woe and death when she does. Mother Murder is known as a fairly hands-off patron by wytch standards. Still, it is understood that the payment for her bestowments is service, usually to deliver a message of darkness and woe personally. She is generally contracted by people who are afraid of being hurt and obsessed with avoiding death.
Initial Bestowment: Prescient Dodge
Initial Skill: Inevitable Strike
Familiar: Abyssal Crow
Shanti of the Fire: Shanti is one of the Primordial elementals and ruler of the Burning Lands, a sub-plane of the Ephemeral Abyss. His chief concern is fire and the burning of things. His contractors usually have a fairly short tenure, as most of his abilities involve controlling fire and burning things. These abilities tend to attract budding arsonists more than anything else. His only demand is to burn increasingly resilient or rare items, so his contractors usually tend to be put down like rabid dogs. Contracting with Shanti is explicitly illegal in most locales as a result. Those who survive long enough may ascend to the Burning Lands as an elemental.
Initial Bestowment: Thermal Immunity
Initial Skill: Start Fire
Familiar: Elemental Spark
Tagron, Lord of Lies: Tagron is generally held to be the most unreliable of patrons. Due to the nature of the Patron/Wytch bond, Tagron cannot lie about the terms of his deals, but Tagron is the only ascended being known to have risen to power by telling a lie so potent that reality bent in the face of it. Tagron’s contractors tend to be people who often expect to lie frequently. In payment, he often asks strange and esoteric tasks of his contractors, with virtually no information shared on why or what he hopes to achieve. There is usually no relationship between the contractor's power and the task's difficulty; more than a few contractors have met their end due to his treacherous ways. While more than a few politicians have contracted with this patron, contracting with Tagron is illegal in virtually every civilized nation.
Initial Bestowment: No Tells
Initial Skill: Liar’s Smile
Familiar: An Ordinary Housecat
“What? What the hell? All of these are horrible. It’s like someone just collected a rogue’s gallery of villainous or easy-to-please patrons and dumped them in my lap.” She reviewed the list again, trying to reason through the patrons. She needed one, right? Otherwise, she’d be crippled in power. She was beginning to question the wisdom of her actions until now, if only barely, even as she talked herself through it, “So, seriously, Bal-Kadash is a literal demon lord. I… literally can’t conceive of any sequence of events where THAT ends well for me. Same for Shanti, since I’m not some insane pyromaniac… no matter what Kelsey said. Mother Murder doesn’t look horrible compared to her name, but I DON’T want a whole other life full of people acting uncomfortable around me yet again.”
She poked around the mud and brambles momentarily, taking a moment to sit and study the words in front of her in slightly more comfort. “Okay, so… Grontag and Tagron. Are they brothers are something? Grontag’s whole deal doesn’t sound bad, but I’m done with the grind of menial work. Tagron seems like a good way to get screwed with no reach-around. Crassus’ whole deal seems surprisingly straightforward, but I’m not looking to make my entire life about capitalism, and the Lifewell is… surprisingly easy to like. Still, I’d probably be chained to a metaphorical radiator down the line.”
And then she frowned as she considered, “The Ever-Hungry Star sounds terrifying. This is fantasy-Cthulhu isn’t it? Yeah, it is. It seems like a bad idea, but it’s almost pure freedom. If it seems that easy, it has to be a trick. And I’m not exactly the pinnacle of mental health on a good day.” She kept floating between the least objectionable options for a while, but deciding was nearly impossible initially. “Okay. Think about it. I can’t ignore immediate needs, but it’s pointless if I’m living a life I hate. Sooooo I need to make sure my choice is durable long term. Freedom. Freedom is what I need. And Fantasy-Cthulhu offers that. I’ve done a lot of self-exploration. I need to work hard to stay grounded-“
“-after dying and being revived in a fantasy world by a Goddess who didn’t want me here. There’s no way I’m going to be balanced. If I make a big splash, she will come looking for me, though, isn’t she? Probably with a mighty, unthinkingly obedient Champion.” She got up, paced, and started swearing repeatedly. “That’s it, right? I don’t know what Cackle or Alien Fate even does, and I can only assume a ‘Celestipus’ is some non-aquatic octopus creature, which honestly could be pretty cute. It might even be useful if it’s not slow on land or something. This patron can hide me from ‘higher powers’ though, and that goddess is NOT my friend.”
She sat there in silence for a while before heaving a sigh. “Not that I know she’s going to be antagonistic, but it’s not a terrible guess, right? And being hard to find would help me a lot in the long run if this Mother Murder creature is hunting me or I do a horrible faux pas. For all I know, they hate girls like me just as much in this world worse than back home.” She purses her lips bitterly and shifts, suddenly horribly aware, as she was at the worst times, of the distinct aspects of her biology she was less than happy with. Ripping her mind away from such maudlin thoughts, she refocused on the words before her. “Screw it. Leeeeeeeroooooooy Jeeeeeeeeenkins!” With the ritual words spoken, she mentally selected ‘The Ever-Hungry Star’ and reflexively cringed as the screen disappeared, bracing herself for discomfort.
After about a minute, she unclenched. Other than a tickle in the back of her mind, a sort of growing awareness, she didn’t feel any different. Or, she didn’t initially. What she felt was a sort of alien curiosity from something unfathomably distant—the smallest discrete fraction of its awareness. As the connection began to strengthen, that curiosity became clearer. A sort of innate knowing allowed her to process its meaning, an interrogative of sorts. It was layered with subtleties and complexities far beyond what any words could convey, but the gist was thus: It was asking her if she really did wish to pact with it, along with an almost child-like giddiness.
Surprised, she responded effusively in the affirmative, finding it easy to reply in kind. Joy flowed along the connection established with the otherworldly mind, affection directed at her. The tap opened wider to allow its power and knowledge to flow into her, and a vast, deeper truth flooded her mind and soul. It would be nightfall before she stopped screaming and coughing up blood.