His hands brought forth flames to rival an archmagus. Swaths of monsters burned to crisps before him. The mana surged around him. Who would’ve thought he’d be so lucky?
[Fire Magic]. A wonderful Skill. He laughed, power suffused him!
Then his surroundings turned dark. The fire became walls, the heat was unbearable. He stared upward. A figure blotted the sun. Wings, tail, a silhouette of draconic wrath.
Wizz jerked into sudden lucidity, knocking over a pile of books. He blinked at the morning sunlight.
The library—right. He hadn’t been able to sleep last night. Since the night had been young he’d headed over to the library, intent on finding any mentions of a dragon in the Scale Fields.
He must’ve fallen asleep reading old exploration journals. He was one of the few people who could read. His father’s teachings turned out to be extensive, he rarely saw anyone he recognized save for the librarians roaming Newhold’s library alcoves.
It was in this very library that Wizz was offered the first Skill he’d ever been truly tempted by. [Reading]. In the end, he’d denied it like all the others, locking it away forever. He wondered how much it would’ve helped him in his studies.
It had been an Uncommon Skill, which warranted some thought. The Rarities increased exponentially, an Uncommon was an order of magnitude more rare and valuable than a Common, and so forth.
Reading, apparently, wasn’t something the average person knew how to do. Wizz knew how to read and write what his father had called the four major languages. Ordinary, Drovish, Wivvel, and Avesh. Along with some minor ones. But Wizz’s education expanded beyond that.
His father’s teachings had been atypical.
“And one day, I’ll find out why.” He mumbled to himself. His father hadn’t been the most open sort, for all that the man had loved him.
He sighed, closing the journal he’d been poring over. There wasn’t much on the Scale Field’s underground caverns. And absolutely nothing pointing to the existence of a creature of myth and legend residing inside. It was a treasure hunt without gold from the start though, the guild kept most dangerous documents like those maps out of reach of the common citizenry, and dragons were, well, dragons. He had full confidence Almouth could hide in plain sight if he wanted to.
It still hadn’t failed to boggle his mind—he’d seen one. A dragon. He shook his head, knowing he could easily get distracted by the encounter. He’d already replayed the whole thing in his mind countless times—
“Focus, Wizz.” He exhaled.
He left the books and journals in his alcove as he left. He’d paid for the spot, the staff would keep things in order. Not the most common expenditure among adventurers, but routine for Wizz.
He exited the library and made his way to the guild. The streets were already awake with activity, despite the early morning. Wizz was a light sleeper, sunlight alone was usually enough to stir him. He’d come to realize the city was no different in that regard. Perhaps an effect of living by the Uncharted Lands.
He pushed the doors of the guild open and found the inhabitants reluctantly moving. Adventure started early, after all. Wizz walked past yawning patrons and took a seat at one of the tables closer to the request board. A handful of men and women hovered around ponderously—no doubt team leaders. Here they would decide what mission to take up or pursue for their teams.
Wizz himself didn’t have the luxury of a team. A member without Skills was a risk people simply didn’t need to take. Someone with a useful Skill, in every case, is the better pick. Wizz understood that. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like, but he was self-sufficient in a way most teams couldn’t pull off.
Wizz waved a waitress down and ordered a bowl of stew. Within minutes, he had a hot steaming gravy before him, with hearty meat and veggies. He took the liberty to unwrap some bread from Lynn and dip at his leisure as the guild well and truly woke up.
He let out a content sigh as he enjoyed his meal. Of course, his ears were busier than his mouth.
“You know that pillar yesterday? I heard they’re sending someone from the capital to investigate. One of King Alderman’s special persons.” Someone was saying.
“And where’d you hear that, exactly?” Another scoffed. “What’s a no rank adventurer like you getting all the gossip from, huh?”
“I’m not sure about the ‘special person’ he’s talking about, but he’s right.” A new voice cut in. “Apparently, there’s no archmagus on record that could produce that fire. The mana density was unprecedented. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some kind of investigation.”
“The guild will probably put up an investigation request as well.”
“Right, well, enough of that. We’re going the other direction today.”
“Eyerag? Are you kidding me? Remember the last time we—”
Wizz tuned out of the conversation. He wondered, idly, what kind of person would take up the investigation of a potential dragon sighting. If that was true, he’d best leave the city soon, no doubt they’ll have some kind of related Skill in the way of investigation. Or interrogation.
That was how he found himself holding a request paper marked by the guild—guild issued. He needed to complete them anyway if he wanted the Scale Fields maps. He glanced at two others, then back to the one in his hand, before grabbing the extras.
The only problem was the location. It was the best choice for him but it would require a lot of preparation. “Hmm.” He mumbled to himself. “A week at best, on foot.” At least the other two were on the way.
Aqua Crawler Parts, Flood Marsh
There is a high demand from various merchants within the Kingdom of Halreach for water-resistant materials. Newhold is uniquely situated near a breeding ground for a type of creature with many usable parts. The Aqua Crawler is a small creature around the size of a pig that lives in the marshlands known as the Flood Marsh. Further information can be found at reception.
Wizz was familiar with them from his readings. They resided only on the edges of the deeper pools, camouflaging between the tall swamp grass. When a victim, be it adventurer or other prey neared, they dragged and drowned them inside the pool.
They were quick in the water and somewhat resemble common frogs, if not much larger and with powerful muscles. They were colored well for the environment and sunk themselves deep in the mud for traction. They were vulnerable at the moment they grabbed you, but once dragged off chances were slim.
A static behavior that Wizz could work around with little risk, granted he was observant. It fit his usual jobs.
“Bjerg, I’m taking a request.” He greeted the receptionist.
The receptionist was nearby in an instant, taking the paper from him. “Aqua Crawlers. Safe choice, not too different from regular slimes in their methods.”
“Slimes? You think so?” Wizz asked.
“Both are ambush-oriented with little to do outside their chosen battlefield. Both predictable. A similar methodology. Though slime mutations change the game a little.” Bjerg explained. “It’s a little far though.”
“That’s fine, I was thinking of taking this one on as well. If I remember correctly, this should be somewhat on the way. Or a small detour—one or the other.”
Bjerg nodded. “Forest Goblin Extermination.” He read, taking the other paper. “Another guild-issued request. One more and you’ll be a ranked adventurer—”
“And this one.” He said, handing another one.
“Helpful Herbs. A request for alchemical reagents. This one is based in Newhold.” Bjerg noted idly. He quickly skimmed the request and shook his head with a sigh. “It’s located in the same forest as the goblins, true, but these plants are hard to identify. A handful requiring particular harvesting methods. It’s a job for an adventurer with an actual background in herbalism. I’m not sure you could—”
Wizz started counting on his fingers from memory. “I’m perfectly able to identify Red Root, Blood Crown, Yawning Thistle, Yelling Belly, Old Man’s Shroom, and more. Though I’d guess those are most likely to be native to Lull Forest and of interest to the guild. I’m well aware of the harvesting methods too.”
Bjerg gave him a sideways glance and checked the request along with another document.
Bjerg blinked. “What—you just picked up herbalism in case adventuring doesn’t work out for you?”
“I had an unusually expansive education.” Wizz shrugged. “And I haven’t stopped learning.” He gestured to his pack. “I’ll be bringing along a field guide to reference if I need to.”
Bjerg regarded Wizz. “I take it you’re shooting through Lull Forest all the way to the Flood Marshes then? That route would make the most sense.”
“That’s the plan.”
“You know, I’ve been using ‘Lull Forest’ so much in my reports, the name’s starting to stick around here. The other adventurers and staff are using it too. It’s been a damn annoyance waiting for the King to grant someone the honor of naming it.” Bjerg scoffed.
Wizz was surprised. “Are you saying I’ve just named a whole forest?”
Bjerg chuckled. “By accident, and unofficially too.” Then he fished around for something behind the desk. “Here you go, tablet-recognized [Travel Rations]. You’ll be traveling heavy and coming back laden down otherwise. We’re permitted to hand these out if we deem it fit.”
Wizz took the wrapped bundle.
Instinctively, he inspected it.
Item: [Travel Rations] (Common)
High-quality rations intended for long journeys to reduce load and maximize space. They are packed with nutritional value. A single [Travel Ration] can sustain someone for a single day of strenuous activity. They are ideal for those constantly on the move.
+30% increase in stamina recovery for 24 hours
+100% increase in satiety for 24 hours
Every single Article, those objects recognized by the World Tablet, was valuable. Wizz had never heard of anything like a ration being one. It was the first time he’d seen an Article with an effect like this. Still, it meant he was holding some amount of decent wealth even if it was Common.
“Is this—” He tried.
Bjerg stopped him. “It’s fine. Those are put aside specifically for you adventurers, by the discretion of the receptionists. Every branch has a similar system. I’d say for you it’s a necessity considering the requests you took. The fact you’re pursuing guild-issued requests is no small factor either. Take it, it’s free.”
Wizz’s argument died on his lips. “Ah, alright. That leaves me a lot of space for the return trip. Thank you, Bjerg.” Wizz said genuinely. “That’ll help a lot, space-wise.”
“That’s the motive.” He said.
Wizz ended up taking the rations after voicing his surprise at the newfound Article. Bjerg attributed it to his lack of travel outside of Newhold. Apparently, similar Articles were commonplace for long journeys. Wizz rarely traveled more than a week from the city so he guessed he’d just never had the need for them.
As Bjerg said, his route was shooting up through Lull Forest and collecting herbs and goblin ears as he could, before finally making it to the Flood Marshes. He would have accomplished the journey in less than a week but his requests would require more time than that to finish. In terms of scheduling, it paid to account for the worst case.
With food out of the way, that only left Wizz to pick up some miscellaneous supplies. He was good on alarm wards and relevant potions, but he needed to stock up on arrows.
By the time the slowness of the morning faded, Wizz’s pack was much lighter than it would usually be.
He wasted no time setting out.
He waved to Saei and Lynn, making bread in their bakery. They recognized his countenance and simply wished him luck, of which he was thankful. Kerrik greeted him at the gate as well, sending him off with a farewell.
Instead of taking the beaten path, Wizz angled straight for the forest, cutting through the fields of grass and rolling hills. A breeze caught him like a sail and he leaned into the feeling. He planted his feet and relished the sensation of freedom. It was a moment he always relished upon leaving the city limits.
This was adventure. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.
The area surrounding Newhold was beautiful. Brilliant greenery and lush forest, the city was far enough away from the woods for the guards to alert against any attack staged from it. The small rolling hills and grass fields were constantly caressed by the breeze. As if some great earth elemental was constantly running a comb of wind through its hair.
So long as he stayed near the walls, it was relatively safe traveling. No monsters or wild animals neared the city. It was a fortunate detail since he planned to move parallel to the city walls before finally angling off into the forest.
It meant, in the meantime, he could read.
There is no greater tool for an adventurer than knowledge.
The words of his father rang out in his mind. Wizz remembered vividly all the times the man had scolded him with it. Wizz hadn’t always been so studious. He was forever grateful though, even if his father hadn’t been able to teach him everything, though he certainly tried, he’d managed to get one very important skill to stick.
The ability to teach oneself. To seek out knowledge and make connections. To learn.
Tribal Patterns of Contemporary Goblins was the name of the book Wizz was reading through. It detailed various hierarchies that goblin tribes often followed. Curiously, these weren’t unique across the goblin race. It differed between subraces, and even within the subrace itself.
Sometimes a single shaman dominated the highest caste, sometimes it was multiple, and sometimes it was a chieftain. Sometimes warriors or even gatherers were the most valued individuals and therefore retained a higher position in the tribes. There was room for diversity.
The book allowed Wizz an insight into what to expect, though none of the information was completely new to him. He had reviewed similar material countless times. Goblins were among one of the most prolific monsters across the kingdom.
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He plucked a number of herbs across the hills as he walked by them. Those, at least, had become second nature. He’d never lost the knowledge of them. When he finally entered Lull Forest he’d already gathered a good amount of herbs.
The trees rose up around him and his surroundings became shaded. Large trunks halted the pleasant breeze and a semi-silence reigned. Only infrequent beams of sunlight pierced through the canopy to light his way. The rustling leaves showered the forest floor with cracks of peeking sunbeams.
It was seemingly peaceful. Wizz drew his bow anyway, already actively eyeing the forest around him. The false sense of safety was an easy trap to fall into. Forest goblins often had patrols circling the forest, which Wizz was familiar with. There was a known tribe in Lull Forest that the guild regularly culled—as Wizz was doing now. Eventually, the guild would exterminate them, but the goblins hadn’t yet acted up, not to mention the logistical nightmare organizing a raid on their tribe would be.
For the average adventurer, they were a reasonable quarry, in the correct circumstance. Wizz felt safe picking off groups of four or five from a distance. In melee range, he’d only dare take on two at once, any more than that would be risking unnecessary injury. Full adventuring parties could probably handle the larger bands of goblins that roamed closer to the heart of their tribe. Not him though, Wizz made sure to steer away from that area. A lone adventurer could quickly become overwhelmed.
A lone adventurer needed to know his limits.
Wizz stalked through the woods like someone born to the forest. His movements were quick, efficient, quiet, and graceful. It was a conscious effort on his part to move so carefully, but not a blade of grass or shrubbery would go bothered. It wasn’t the supernatural quality of a Skill, but it was impressive nonetheless.
He harvested herbs as he went by. Yawning thistle, redleaf, burnthumb’s eye, yelling belly, and more. They weren’t particularly hard to find, but entering Lull Forest was a risk not many herbalists could take in good conscience. The job often fell to specialized individuals who could identify and extract these herbs in good condition while also possessing the means to protect themselves.
Wizz, in this particular case.
Eventually, he heard the birdsong stop. A fluttering of wings ahead. It was the small signs. A handful of background noises had ceased. Some small animal darted away.
Wizz stopped examining the plant he found and quickly climbed up the nearest tree.
“Finally hit the patrols.” He said to himself, grunting lightly with exertion. He pulled himself up and over the thick branches.
Once he found his perch he drew an arrow and simply waited. It didn’t take long for goblin chatter to rise up from below. Two smaller goblins with loincloths covering their important parts, and one larger and taller goblin.
Wizz hummed to himself. “Hobgoblin.”
They were a stage in goblin growth not many of their kind live long enough to see. Smarter and more dangerous, for Wizz’s purposes. It would be his first target and a problem if not handled swiftly.
Patiently, Wizz waited for a better shot, as they were passing directly below. His aim would otherwise be obscured by a smattering of smaller branches and twigs. He kept an eye on the patrol. They stopped by the plant he’d been observing, pointing excitedly.
Wizz cocked his head at the behavior. It occurred to him the patrol was three. That might hint at an increase in tribe size, or that Wizz was deeper in their territory than he thought. From what he recalled, they usually patrolled in pairs. And not with a hobgoblin.
Wizz took a breath.
Surprise is a powerful tool. It buys time to even the odds.
Wizz took aim for only a half breath. Just enough time to center. His first arrow pierced the hobgoblin’s eye. His second caught one of the smaller goblins in the chest. They erupted into panicked screeching.
The wind caught his hair as he jumped.
Wizz landed on the third with his sword, impaling it to the ground, before removing his sword and its head in one movement. The last goblin died by the time he finished. It was a clean and efficient execution, Wizz had little choice working without the cushions a combat Skill might allow.
He cut off three left ears. Proof of work. Hobgoblin ears counted for something more, he was sure, though he couldn’t remember the details.
Wizz bent down and examined the plant that he hadn’t been able to identify. “They seemed pretty interested in it.” He said, rubbing his chin. “I wonder…”
Carefully, he worked around its long petals. He uprooted it gently, pulling its roots from the soil. That done, he placed it into his pack, tucking it neatly beside the other herbs. He happily noted he had much more space thanks to the [Travel Rations].
He closed his bag—
Skill Offer: [Herbalism] (Uncommon)
Requirements: Gather or Identify over 500 Plants, Spend 500 Hours in a Plant-Rich Environment, Discover 10 Plants Without Guidance
The study of various plants both magical and mundane for the purpose of producing a myriad of effects. The gathering and identification of noteworthy botanical ingredients.
He slowed.
Wizz read the Skill Offer, not entirely unexpected. He’d been gathering plants his whole life, so it was only a matter of time. The last time he’d been offered a Skill was half a year ago. It had been [Climbing] which had appeared as he reached the peak of a tree, not unlike he had just been doing.
[Herbalism] it seemed, had been triggered by gathering the unidentified plant. The requirements were listed in the order they were achieved, so undoubtedly Wizz had just completed the discovery criteria. It made sense since he didn’t recognize the plant he’d just harvested.
“No wonder that took me so long. I spent so much time reading and studying that I was never surprised by the plants I found.” He muttered, somewhat surprised. “Huh.”
As with all Skills, Wizz carefully considered it. Even if he was almost certain that he’d be denying the offer. Such a Skill might come with a variety of useful Actives and Passives when moving about in a forest, but Wizz didn’t see it fitting him.
If he’d been a herbalist, maybe, but Wizz was never slated for that life. He’d always wanted more. The Uncommon Rarity was notable, however. It would be a powerful Skill for anyone with which the Skill might particularly aid, herbalists or even druids, for example. Or perhaps just someone who lived in a heavily forested area.
Wizz declined and sighed.
“Hopefully I can get to the Scale Fields and find whatever Almouth was—”
Skill Offer: [Learning] (Epic)
Requirements: Be Without Any Skill Slots Filled, Spend 500 Hours Learning, Achieve a Passable Understanding of Multiple Subjects, Meet an Entity Over a Thousand Years Old, Deny 20 Skill Offers
The acquisition of knowledge through skill, experience, study, or teaching. To learn is to unravel the mysteries of the universe, to seek knowledge beyond what inhabits the near-sighted mind. To you, the world is a question and you have ever strived for answers.
Wizz’s jaw dropped. “An Epic Skill?” He whispered. “H-how?”
A sudden jolt shocked his entire body once his mind truly caught up. Excitement. Here? Now?
It was the very last thing he expected on this journey. An Epic Skill was—it was unimaginably rare!
He had to calm down. An Epic anything was worthy of celebration. To the point Wizz was already planning on keeping it a secret. Yes, that meant he was already planning on accepting. How couldn’t he?
He ‘read’ the offer, or rather, internally regarded it with equal parts excitement and disbelief.
An Epic Skill. He couldn’t—he didn’t know what to feel. He shook. By what emotion exactly was indiscernible. Relief, excitement? Disbelief, gratefulness, joy? Confusion?
And [Learning]? It was beyond fitting. He never would’ve guessed he’d get a worthy Skill before even trying for the treasure in the Scale Fields. Yet here he was. He was—he finally found it. This was it, his first Skill!
“This is unbelievable.” He breathed.
He read the requirements, muttering. “Meet an entity over a thousand years old.” He whispered to himself, unable to contain traces of excitement. “The dragon. No wonder.” There were some people who denied Skills like him, but he’d never heard a word of anything like this.
Now, the last puzzle piece fell into place. How many people would ever meet something like a dragon in their lifetime? Were these the types of requirements that merited higher Rarity Skills? Wizz was dumbfounded. So, so, dumbfounded. No wonder such Skills were so rare.
And this type of utility Skill would benefit all parts of his life too! His father had always mentioned the importance of scope. A powerful Skill was one that affected one’s whole life, as opposed to something as niche as [Climbing] or [Herbalism]. His father had even warned him against weapon Skills like [Swordsmanship] even though they could be powerful, because they inherently warranted the use of a weapon. Something Wizz might not always have access to.
His father had conceded niche Skills, in the right environment, could overshadow all others. It circled back to Wizz’s thinking on [Herbalism], if he’d lived in the forest or around rare plants that Skill would’ve been a valuable asset. Or if he was some kind of gladiator or soldier, then [Swordsmanship] would be a godsend. But he wasn’t.
He wondered if his father could ever have guessed how much he would take his words to heart. He had been sorely tempted but in the end...
Well, his father had always told him to keep an eye out for three things and Wizz had stuck to them. One, magic. Any magic Skill was powerful, they were both tools and weapons and always available so long as you had mana. Two, a broad utility Skill. In this case, [Learning]. Some other candidates might’ve been [Exploring] or [Adventuring], or even something a tad more niche like [Movement]. And third, anything that was so obviously powerful it would be foolish to ignore.
Wizz wasn’t sure what the last one entailed, but this new Skill Offer undoubtedly checked the second box. Perhaps the attached Rarity gave it some credence to also fulfill the last criteria. He definitely was not about to ignore anything with an Epic Rarity.
Wizz took a breath. An Epic Skill. The first of his five slotted Skills. It was the start of a new chapter of his life.
And it was so comical he laughed. He couldn’t keep his voice down and gave in to the mirth, chest and shoulders shaking. Of all the places to have gotten his first Skill, the one Skill he’d been waiting his entire life for. It was here.
By picking up a plant.
He wiped away tears, smile hurting. Eventually he got around to accepting the offer, shaking with something new. The hilarity was gone and replaced with something else. Eagerness. Anticipation.
New Skill: [Learning] (Epic)
The acquisition of knowledge through skill, experience, study, or teaching. To learn is to unravel the mysteries of the universe, to seek knowledge beyond what inhabits the near-sighted mind. To you, the world is a question and you have ever strived for answers.
When learning a new Skill, the average person would obtain either an Active or Passive, with the rare cases of obtaining both or none being uncommon outliers. Wizz held his breath.
New [Learning] Active: [Passable Application]
Learning is pointless if knowledge is not applied. The ability to execute any action, task, function, or method you have studied in enough detail with guaranteed bare-minimum adequacy.
His face split into a smile. How long had he been dreaming of Actives and Passives? To finally use them? And now, here he was.
Actives, like their counterpart, are born from a related Skill. This means they are always tied to their corresponding Skill in some way. Wizz’s [Passable Application] looked to be some method of applying his studies effectively which tied into [Learning]. In general, the effects of an Active were usually short-lived but powerful.
He wasn’t surprised at not finding any noted Rarity. Actives and Passives were intrinsically tied to their Skill. And while someone with the exact same Skill might have different Actives and Passives than another, the inherent Rarity disparity between different Actives and Passives of the same Skill has never been confirmed. The World Tablet has never been known to specify further and no one sought to question it. Wizz had always assumed they implicitly shared the same Rarity.
He’d read enough of the topic to be very familiar with it.
Before getting too excited, he checked his surroundings. He hadn’t forgotten the detail of the larger patrol, he could very well be deeper in goblin territory than he thought.
He stalked through the forest, moving away from where the heart of the goblin tribe was rumored to be. He reckoned he was reasonably safe after half an hour of hiking. That done, he climbed another tree. It was almost laughable how much of an advantage someone could gain from just climbing upward. Most creatures, even sentients, never evolved a tendency to check above them.
It served Wizz’s purposes just fine, he’d be safe and out of the way.
He hauled himself onto a thick branch, large enough with the surrounding leaves to fully conceal his form.
Wizz couldn’t help his excitement. He could feel it now. The intrinsic notion of how to activate his Active. It was something that was undoubtedly part of him now. Something he’d read about countless times. Something he’d dreamed about countless more.
He could feel the limits of it, if not exactly how it would play out once used.
Wizz unslung his bow and knocked an arrow. “Let’s try this then.”
It was the first thing that came to mind. He’d never got the hang of this particular technique, even with hours of study and practice. It was a wivvelen form of fast archery. For as long as he’d remembered he’d been terrible at it. Not once would he have considered himself passable.
But—[Passable Application].
His unsure movements, the timidness of rusty memory flaked away. He eased his bow sideways, horizontal, before laying an arrow across it. His other hand pulled four separate arrows, holding them in such a convoluted manner Wizz would never have guessed his fingers capable. In a wivvelen’s dexterous fingers, it supposedly facilitated rapid fire. Wizz had never found that evidence in himself.
Then he was shooting. The thrum of his bow was followed by the thudding of his arrows into a tree he’d marked as his target. Every arrow he loosed was followed up within seconds. His offhand pulled the bowstring before flipping an arrow through his fingers loading it before his next exhale.
His fingers slipped a few times, his rhythm was off, but it was passable.
And he’d never managed that ever before. It was an advanced technique. Apparently, once mastered, it was also a powerful tool. For the first time in years, Wizz saw something of the technique he hadn’t known. He’d been holding the arrows wrong, and the way he’d learned to load the next one had, as a consequence, been wrong as well.
He grinned.
“Oh, that’s gonna be fun.” His mind was already wandering to all the teachings he’d never gotten the practical hang of.
But then, a sudden realization came over him. An internal knowing. He hummed to himself. “I won’t be able to use that for the rest of the day.” He muttered. And it looked like there was some kind of limit to what miracles he could pull off, going from feeling alone.
He mentally pored through the combat applications but found it unrealistic. “I wouldn’t be trying something new in the heat of battle unless there was no other choice.” He didn’t have to think about it too long. “It’s meant for teaching myself. For learning.” He realized, somewhat stupidly.
“Not the strongest Active in the moment, but powerful nonetheless.” He said to himself grinning.
“And now that I’ve accepted the World Tablet I can access my Status.” He grinned. He already knew how, just as he’d read. It was pure instinct and with a single mental effort—
A squirrel burst through the branches and scurried deeper into the canopy. Wizz jerked back and blinked after it. A squirrel running right by him? Why would—
Suddenly everything was wrong. It was too quiet and too loud all at the same time. All the little signs he’d trained to look for were suddenly there. That squirrel shouldn’t ever have dared to be that near to an unknown. The birds were quiet, the bugs were too. The forest had gone silent, something else replaced the ambiance.
He craned his head, going still. An undercurrent of noise. A hum, pierced by hollering and yelling. The din of excited chatter. Voices.
Wizz cursed loudly as he identified them. “Goblins.” He grimaced. “I need to go, I wasted too much time.” He tried to look through the trees.
His eyes scanned the forest. A few figures here and there, green to camouflage. Four, seven, a dozen. Too much. “What I was thinking?” He whispered vehemently. “Absolutely careless.” He chided himself, even as he took stock of everything.
The sounds of hollering and yelling amplified as they neared. Goblins only made that amount of noise when they were panicking, dying, or traveling in numbers. It was an old adventuring tip, loud goblins meant many goblins. And they were loud.
Three dozen at worst. That was what he thought. A war party.
He was wrong.
Wizz froze, hidden in his tree and out of sight, his hand reflexively reached for his sword. He stopped the knee-jerk reaction to leap out and start running. To kill the ones passing below and make a break for it. No, there were more flanking his position, though they themselves were unaware of it. Staying still as possible, Wizz's heart sped up as he realized his predicament.
He couldn’t run from a horde.
“Shit.”