Death Singer
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About this ebook
Trapped in another world. Seven days to escape. Failure means death.
When Max awakens on a different planet, he doesn't know how he got there or why he can't get home. And a mysterious Life Counter is steadily descending towards zero.
Now he's alone in a world unknown, where his skills as a bard might win him friends to survive. But it may already be too late – someone is hunting him and wants him dead.
Gaining skills as fast as he can, Max searches for answers and freedom. But if he can't have either, he's determined to find the power to defy death.
Randy Ellefson
Author and world building strategist Randy Ellefson has written fantasy fiction and created fictional worlds since the 1980s. In addition to authoring the most detailed world building books available, he's the founder and lead instructor at World Building University, blogs regularly on the subject, and hosts a popular podcast. The Writer's of the Future contest has recognized his writing three times.He has a Bachelor’s of Music in classical guitar but has always been more of a rocker, having released several albums and earned endorsements from music companies.A professional software architect, he has worked for NASA, the State Department, and White House, and run a successful consulting firm in the Washington D.C. area. He loves spending time with his son and daughter when not writing, making music, or playing golf.
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Death Singer - Randy Ellefson
by Randy Ellefson
Copyright © 2023 Randy Ellefson / Evermore Press
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means; electronic or mechanical, including photography, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any semblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Table of Contents
Map of Karendi Kingdom
Free Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Glossary
Randy Ellefson Books
About The Author
Randy Ellefson Music
Acknowledgments
Map of Karendi Kingdom
Map of Karendi Kingdom, on the world of Llurien.
View a larger, full color map online at https://fiction.randyellefson.com/ascension-quest-litrpg-series/death-singer/
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Anyone who joins my fiction newsletter mailing list receives a free eBook, a chance to join my ARC Team, see bonuses, get early looks at covers, and more: http://www.fiction.randyellefson.com/newsletter
Chapter 1
Max turned his back on the three people giving him the finger. He couldn’t make out their faces anyway, with them being backlit in the noisy Baltimore club as Steel Panther blasted from the loudspeakers. They’d been flipping him off all night while he was on stage with his band, Burp the Worm, cranking out 80s metal tunes on his axe-shaped guitar. It wasn’t the first time the flip-off fest had happened. He’d always thought being good would get him support, not jealous people eager to see him fail. Today, he wasn’t in the mood for the haters. It was time to go home.
With his last glance at the stage to ensure he’d grabbed all his gear, he strode over to his guitar case and crouched down as much as his black leather pants would let him. Max took a last look down at Kat,
the prized electric guitar he’d built. She was all silver hardware and black paint except for a silver area on the bottom, where it looked like a blade. And he knew people hated him for this above all else.
He zipped the case closed and rose, casting a last look at the club where drunk people were wobbling into each other and slithering out into the darkness. Last call had come, and he felt a little inebriated from the shots two hot girls had brought him on stage. He slung Kat over his shoulder and stepped out of the club with a last wave at his bandmates, who were busy with their own gear or hanging out with people.
His black leather boots crunched on the parking lot’s gravelly asphalt as he strode toward his banged up, red Dodge Charger. As he neared it, three figures stepped out from behind a van parked beyond it. They took up positions on either side of the Charger and blocked the way to it. The blond held a hockey stick, but the short one and the overweight one had nothing in their hands. With the streetlight above backlighting them, Max recognized their silhouettes from inside and stopped. They weren’t really going to attack him, were they? This was getting out of hand.
Hey dickhead,
the blond one called out, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the surrounding buildings.
Give it a rest, guys,
Max said, suspecting that was the ringleader.
"We’re gonna give you a rest," said the chubby one, the voice revealing she was female.
Max rolled his eyes. Clever. Maybe you should be a poet.
Fuck you, dude.
The short one finally spoke. You think you’re so much better than us.
Max sighed. Maybe that’s because I don’t go around flipping people off or accosting them at their car. Come on, guys. They just did last call. Go get another beer and see if you can get laid before it’s too late.
The blond guy glanced around before yelling, Get him!
They rushed at Max, who stepped back and saw from their body language that they weren’t kidding. He turned a little too late and ran, but they had a head start. The soft guitar case bounced haphazardly on his shoulder. He lost a precious second getting it into one hand, where it was almost as awkward. Running from these bozos irritated him, but 3-on-1 and unarmed weren’t good odds. With the footsteps closing in, he risked a glance back just as the blond with the hockey stick swung it at his legs and tripped him.
Max fell too quickly to break his fall, one knee slamming painfully into the asphalt as his hand slid on loose gravel. The guitar case fell to one side. As he reached for it, the short one kicked it away. The girl stomped on his other hand. Pain, anger, and fear of broken bones tore through him. As they laughed, he rolled onto his back to see them surrounding him. He held up his injured, bloody hand and saw it shaking, whether from adrenaline or pain, he didn’t know.
Get the guitar!
the blond one in front of him hollered.
No!
Max yelled, struggling to his feet. He moved left toward the short one who’d picked it up, but the blond one swung the hockey stick to keep him back. You’ll never get away with stealing it. Everyone knows it’s mine.
The blond one sneered and walked toward Kat, limping for some reason. We’re gonna smash it to pieces, not get caught with it. This is what happens to arrogant motherfuckers.
Shock tore through Max. After all these years of taking care of Kat, her being destroyed was the worst thing he could imagine. To think he’d gotten upset when he’d scratched the back of her on his belt buckle until he’d learned to pull the front of his shirt over his waist. And now three dumbasses were gonna break her? Over his dead body.
Leave the guitar alone,
Max demanded, as the short one pulled it out of the case.
Leave the guitar alone!
the girl mocked. Only now could Max see she had long purple hair braided on one side, and a nose ring attached to an earring. He wanted to yank it out of her face.
The short one dragged Kat across the gravel, likely scratching the paint.
I’ll give you whatever money you want,
Max pleaded, cradling his injured hand. Come on. That guitar is priceless.
It’s about to be worthless,
said the blond one.
The girl laughed. "Hey! We are poets!"
The short one raised Kat over his head by the neck like she was an actual axe. Dread filled Max at the impending motion of it slamming into the ground. He lunged forward. The blond one jabbed him in the chest with the hockey stick hard enough to make Max gasp at the pain. But Max yanked the stick out of the guy’s grip with his good hand. Suddenly Max was the one with a weapon. He ran toward the guy holding the guitar over his head and cocked his arm back to swing.
Pain exploded across his right temple as a flashing light blinded him. He never saw the ground as he fell hard to his left and slammed headfirst into the asphalt, which stunned him. His ears rang. A punch. From the blond one. Max hadn’t seen it coming and now couldn’t see anything. He dimly heard the crack of Kat being smashed into the ground. Once. Twice. And the sound of wood clattering. Laughter. He tried to lift his head but couldn’t. Or his arm. His legs wouldn’t move and felt impossibly heavy.
Crunching footsteps neared him and stopped. Max feared what they were about to do to him.
The girl said, Shit, dude. I think you hit him too hard.
Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right. We better get the fuck out of here before somebody sees us.
Let’s go.
The footsteps rapidly faded away. Max blacked out with a groan of pain, despair, and helpless fury.
Chapter 2
Max opened his eyes to see tall trees just feet in front of where he stood. A rocky dirt path led between them and through a forest with low bushes scattered throughout. A glance around revealed more of the same, the trail behind him, too. The turning motion caused him to notice coarse fabric rubbing against his skin. Looking down, he saw a plain, long-sleeved tan shirt belted at the waist with a rope. He also wore similar pants that reached to his ankles. And it felt like he had no underwear; a quick touch down there confirmed it. Brown fur boots completed the outfit. He otherwise had nothing else with him.
He’d never been much of a nature buff, but the air smelled pristine, with a pine scent. His sinuses hadn’t seemed this clear in forever and he took a deep breath. He felt relaxed and rested, as if after a good night’s sleep. A slight breeze felt wonderful against his skin. Everything seemed almost too vivid. His sight was even clearer than before, even though he’d never needed glasses and presumably had 20/20 vision.
But he had no idea what he was doing here.
Confused, he tried to take a step forward, and while he could lift his foot, it went back to the ground in the same spot instead of forward like he’d intended. He tried again with the same result. Was something invisible holding him in place? He couldn’t back up or go sideways, either. He extended his arms successfully, reaching around and up, but he appeared stuck in place. Though he didn’t see anyone, he was about to call for help when a semi-translucent display of light appeared, hanging in the air several feet before him. Instead of an edge, it had an outline of glowing yellow light with rounded corners. It looked like a TV or computer screen, but there was no stand, and it wasn’t hanging from a tree or crane or something. The image just floated there. It had no cables or apparent battery supply. Words of blue then appeared in the middle of it, a pleasant female voice reading them aloud.
Welcome to Llurien Online, the world’s premiere virtual reality game. You must choose a character before you begin your adventure. Proceed?
What the hell?
Max muttered, not remembering logging in. Or buying Llurien Online. In fact, he didn’t even own a VR headset or whatever else he needed for this. He’d played MMORPGs before, just not the virtual reality kind. Maybe he was at a friend’s house? No, he didn’t really have any, and not one that would do this with him. And no one else was nearby in the game as if they were doing it together. Maybe he just couldn’t see them until he made a character.
He’d heard of Llurien Online, which was based on several series of books set on a world called Llurien. The game had launched a while back, but between work, the band, and his nearly complete degree in classical guitar, he seldom had time for computer games anymore. He wasn’t that good at them anyway, not having the patience for them—or dealing with other players attacking him. It was aggravating building up a character and getting loot only to have someone kill you and take your shit, not that all of them had that. Hopefully, this one didn’t.
He'd seen enough games to know that the screen before him was a Heads Up Display, or HUD. In theory, in could be dismissed, but he left it there.
He sighed and looked for a logout button. As if reading his mind, one appeared in the upper right corner of his vision. When he turned his head, it moved with the motion. It looked greyed out so he couldn’t click it, and he wasn’t sure how to anyway. But just thinking about it caused the button to depress and release with no apparent effect. It certainly didn’t log him out. He tried several times. Had the game crashed?
Frowning, he imagined taking off the virtual reality headset he assumed he was wearing in the real world, but nothing changed. He moved to do it as if he was wearing it in the game, but still nothing happened.
He sighed. I can’t really be stuck in a VR game, can I? Maybe I can save and quit after creating the character.
At his impulse to reach up and click the Proceed
button, it clicked by itself.
A character creation screen appeared. In a row at the top were eight species from which he could choose. A unique color bordered each circular picture of a head. He noticed the colors were the red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet rainbow spectrum from left to right, with the human one at the end encircled by white. That one was already selected, which didn’t surprise him, as his hands and limbs appeared human.
Below that row stood a human warrior that looked nothing like him, but he figured he could change it later in the process. The gender had been set to male and could apparently be toggled, though this was also greyed out. He mentally clicked a few times to be sure, not that he really wanted to switch it, so he moved on. As he read a description box on the screen’s right side, the same pleasant female voice spoke the words.
Species: Human.
Summary: The eighth species of Llurien, humans were created by all twenty-eight of Llurien’s gods, who realized no species equally represented all of their traits. They are, therefore, the most unpredictable. Evil to some, good to others, humans are sometimes called Antarians after the first male and female, Antar and Taria; Antaria is also the name of the continent upon which you stand. Their language, Antarian, is spoken throughout Llurien.
Species Strengths: Superior Versatility, Mastery, and Resilience. All religions are possible.
Species Weaknesses: -5% Luck, -1 Wisdom, -1 Morale.
Species Bonuses: None.
Class Restrictions: None. Dual classes permitted.
Proficiency Points Bonus: None.
The human player didn’t sound interesting, but being able to choose any class or be dual class was attractive. And yet, playing something else was part of the fun of RPGs. The description suggested that the other species had not inherited the traits of every god. How would that affect game play? He had also noticed that all the options were called a species
and not races,
and when he began clicking on the other seven, he saw that most of them had more than one race under them. Humans did not.
But what he immediately noticed was that the Continue
button was greyed out unless he was on human. That didn’t make any sense. Why have these options here if none were available? For a moment, he wondered if the game was in a beta or test mode, and that explained these not being available. But the game had been around a year or more. Was his account screwed up or something? Starting with a glitch was just what everyone wanted. That would explain the logout button issue. He irritably clicked through the other species again anyway, mostly to get a sense of what other players might be using if they weren’t also restricted. And NPCs were likely to be these species, with him needing to fight some.
Several were taller than him, including one that looked like a humanoid descended from dragons. Another had the muscular and agile body of a male gymnast, while the third had webbed toes and fingers for its life in the sea. The rest were shorter, one reminding him of halfings, another like a goblin or another nasty species, and one having feathered wings in addition to two arms and legs. From the depiction, a final one appeared able to control spirits. Max saw an icon showing two blended figures. Clicking on it revealed a dizzying array of hybrids. It wasn’t just humans crossed with other species, but each other, though some combinations appeared to be missing. None were available to him. Only human.
Max sighed and reluctantly clicked the Continue
button to select human. He got a message that his wisdom and morale had both dropped by 1. The race restriction had indeed deflated his mood. The wisdom drop amused him because he had to agree that people weren’t wise. Neither was he, really. No other stats changed and nothing had affected his body, so he didn’t feel any different. He still couldn’t walk anywhere.
Now he saw options for changing his appearance, his character before him on the floating screen. It looked nothing like him, so he decided to make it closer but with a slight makeover. Max replicated his long, straight blond hair that grew to mid-back. He also kept his blond mustache and goatee, tall height, broad shoulders, slender waist, oval head, arched eyebrows, and straight, slightly large nose. But he improved his jawline, added muscles, tanned his skin a little more, and changed his brown eyes to blue. When he hit the save button, he noticed he was getting several inches taller as the ground moved slightly farther away from his vision. The rest of the changes he wouldn’t see without a mirror or unless he viewed himself on the character screen like this.
Satisfied, he clicked through to the next screen and found a list of classes, most familiar: fighter, knight, paladin, hunter, rogue, bard, healer, druid, wizard, sorcerer, monk, Coiryn rider, winger rider, and warder. He didn’t know what the last three were, but they were listed as heroic classes. Each of them and paladin were inaccessible until higher levels. He also didn’t understand the difference between a wizard and sorcerer, so he checked out each.
Class: Wizard
Summary: The most common type of magic user, wizards are those who must study and practice spells that use some combination of words, gestures, or materials. Species, races, or individuals who lack the discipline and opportunity for education cannot usually become wizards, though it is technically possible. The same spell, if cast more than once by the same wizard, will yield predictable results within a pre-defined range of possibilities as decided by the spell’s inventor (almost always one of the gods). This includes mana cost, duration, range, time to cast, and more.
Class: Sorcerer
Summary: Sorcerers are magic-users who can perform magic by will, without training, discipline, or any predefined words, gestures, or materials. Rarer and more powerful, they are also more dangerous to others and themselves due to unpredictability. The same magic effect produced twice by the same sorcerer might vary wildly in mana cost, duration, range, time to cast, and more. With higher levels comes greater control.
Being a sorcerer might’ve been okay if Max was fine with just winging it, but tactics went out the window when you couldn’t count on the results at all. What if he tried to do magic, expecting it to affect everyone before him, and hardly anything happened? Or it affected allies? At higher levels, such things could be mitigated, but it sounded too risky at first. He’d also have to watch out when facing a sorcerer. He wouldn’t be able to predict what they were about to do.
Max had known from the start what he wanted to be—a bard. They had strong melee, ranged, and magical attacks. And they were musicians. He wondered how much his real-world skill at playing guitar would impact what he could do. He wasn’t a talented singer, but he could hold a tune. And with bards being an all-around class, it might be just what he needed playing alone.
He frowned. These games often had people playing in teams, but Max never did. It put him at a disadvantage and was one reason he quit online RPGs. Maybe he could team up with someone in here, but he doubted he would.
He resumed looking over the bard class, which came with proficiencies in light armor, simple weapons, hand crossbows, longswords, rapiers, and short swords. And he could choose three more now. He would receive a bonus to Dexterity, Intelligence, and Charisma with each level, and to Agility at every other level. The first would help him with archery, playing instruments, and thieving skills like picking locks or disarming traps. Charisma and Intelligence would help him resist mental effects like a charm or illusion spell. The Agility would help him in combat, and while pure fighting classes gained Agility with every level, they didn’t get some of his other bonuses. He could choose three instruments to be proficient in, but would hold off until finding some, so as not to waste it on an instrument he didn’t have. He selected the bard class and received another prompt.
Choose your name.
He’d never been one for just using his first name, but he wasn’t adding his surname. He also didn’t want to be one of those dorks with something stupid that they thought was funny. Having numbers after his name sucked, too. It took a minute to think of something related to music and his class. He chose Maestro Max. The words just appeared by themselves in the text box, followed by a Save prompt, which he mentally pressed. The display glowed briefly.
Congratulations! And welcome again to Llurien Online. Let the adventure begin!
The screen faded away, leaving him standing alone in the wilderness. He took a step just to ensure he could, and it worked.
Great. One problem solved. Now for another if I can log out.
But when that thought caused the button to reappear at the corner of his vision, it hadn’t changed. He mentally pushed it several times with no result. He swung his fist at it, not expecting to connect, and while his hand missed, the button depressed again with no resulting logout. Or anything else. Was it broken? That was a heck of a bug. How many other players were stuck in the game? Someone had to figure it out, unless it happened to everyone and no one could communicate with the outside world. That would be interesting. Something akin to claustrophobia lurked at the edge of his mind, this feeling of being trapped.
What he’d seen so far had piqued his curiosity so that part of him wanted to just keep playing anyway, but he couldn’t help wondering what was going to happen to his physical body if he was truly stuck in here. First, he’d likely pee himself, so he had that to look forward to. After three days, he’d die of dehydration. Surely his parents would find him by then? Maybe he shouldn’t worry about it, but then he noticed something else to worry about. A new element had appeared under the logout button.
Life Counter: 6 Days, 23 Hours, 47 Minutes.
Life Counter?
he asked aloud. What does that mean?
But the game didn’t answer. He tried asking several ways as if to get the prompt correct, kind of like when he had to say Alexa
before his Amazon device would do anything. But the game never responded.
As he watched, the minutes dropped by one. What happened when it hit zero?
Chapter 3
Max stood there in the wilderness staring at the Life Counter as it descended. Would his character die when it ended? Did he only get a week to play? Did the counter stop if he did log out? Maybe this was another thing not working correctly, but he couldn’t do anything about it.
He might as well choose his proficiencies and spells in the meantime. After wondering how to pull up his Character Screen, a tabbed window appeared floating before him as if reading his mind. This was more cool than creepy, but were there limits on the mind reading this thing was doing? He hoped so. Now he got a first look at his stats.
Name: Maestro Max.
Species/Race: Human.
Class: Bard, Level 1.
Reputation: 0—Unsung.
XP: 0.
HP: 16/16.
MP: 6/6.
Strength: 6.
Dexterity: 6.
Agility: 6.
Constitution: 6.
Intelligence: 6.
Wisdom: 5.
Charisma: 6.
Morale: 5.
He wasn’t sure if these were good or bad, so he clicked the info button. After scanning the text, he found what he was looking for. It looked like his starting stats were from one to ten, with most defaulting to six. His race had cost him one point in Wisdom and Morale. If he was reading this correctly, his initial Mana Points were based on his class, and his Hit Points were his Constitution, plus ten for his bard class.
He moved on to perusing his proficiencies on the Character Screen’s next tab, starting with whittling down the big list by ignoring things like ventriloquism or mountaineering. He needed something practical and immediately helpful and focused on survival. He finally chose Hunting, Setting Snares, and Cooking. Since it looked like he might be playing this game for a while, he flipped to the Magic Screen and saw several tabs for spells he could choose, including valenders.
Valenders? What is that?
To his surprise, he received a notification floating in the air.
Info: Valenders.
Summary: Valenders are simple spells that even untrained magicians can use. They don’t require preparation and do not cost mana to cast unless they do damage. Your class and level determine how many valenders you know. Once chosen, they cannot be replaced.
He saw that he could choose two from the twenty options. He wanted to get this right. Since he had no armor, he carefully decided on Weapon Ward, which would reduce the damage he took from blunt and piercing weapons by 10%. And having no weapon made him choose Hand of the Grave, which gave him a ghostly, frigid hand he could touch a target with from twenty feet, inflicting up to 8 HP of necrotic damage.
You have learned the Valender, Weapon Ward!
You have learned the Valender, Hand of the Grave!
Before making spell choices, he realized he needed to know about the magic system to make smart choices. He didn’t want to pick spells and then never be able to change them, like the valenders. Or if that’s how it worked, he at least wanted to know that first. Not sure if it would get him any info or not, he asked aloud, How does the magic system work?
and a window appeared.
Info: Llurien Magic System.
Summary: Even if untrained or unskilled, anyone who can perform magic is a magician, but trained and skilled practitioners are called magic-users (and to call one a magician is an insult). The two main types are wizards and sorcerers.
Wizards perform spells according to directions. An error causes spell failure; nothing happens and gathered energy is safely released. Failure sometimes causes lost mana but does not produce unintended side-effects. On reaching a level, a wizard gains access to all spells at that level. A set number of spells can be swapped out on the hot list except during combat. To cast, the player must have any needed materials. Only mana points (MP), which the player’s mana regeneration rate influences, and the availability of required materials, determine how many spells can be cast.
Sorcerers manipulate magic by willpower, not spells, and are unaffected by deity associations (see Deity Supplement Option
once you’ve reached level 8). They can achieve whatever they imagine if they have enough mana and skill. But this often requires knowledge they may not possess. Materials can aid them but may not be required. They may not safely release gathered magic energy when failing in their objective, and magic can still happen with unintended side-effects and results, rather than being aborted altogether. Intentionally or not, they are among the most dangerous people alive.
Mana Regeneration in combat is reduced by two-thirds.
Max joked, Now I know how to insult wizards and sorcerers.
He switched to the Spells tab of the Magic Screen and clicked Level 1. The other eight levels were greyed out. Over thirty spells appeared, including staples like Detect Magic and Heal both of which he added to his hot list, leaving him one more slot. Sleep was a classic, but he didn’t have the feathers needed. He’d need to keep an eye out for materials and buy them in towns when able. Many of the spells needed something he didn’t have. He noticed that one god or another had created each spell but wasn’t sure if that mattered.
On seeing the name Orb of Doom, Max smiled. The rock guitarist in him loved it, and when he saw what it did, he immediately chose it, partly because it was the only real level 1 attack spell for him.
Spell: Orb of Doom.
Level 1 Evocation.
Description: In the caster’s hand, creates a fist-sized ball of energy that can be hurled at a target up to 100 feet away, inflicting 5-25 HP of damage. The orb is not affected by gravity. Dexterity and Agility affect accuracy. The energy is one of the four elements: air, fire, earth, or ice. The element determines the nature of the damage.
Components: Verbal—Gather [Element].
Gesture—Throwing motion toward target. Material—The element.
Cast time: Instant.
Duration: Orb must be thrown within five seconds and will last until striking a target.
Cooldown: 5 seconds.
Sphere, Deity and Boost: Green, Tarrera (Goddess of Truth), +10% Damage.
MP: 2.
At Higher Levels: 5-10 additional HP damage per level.
With these chosen, he dismissed the Spell Screen and found nothing had changed while he’d been occupied with his character sheet. Was that because this was a starter area, or did time stop while he was looking at a screen?
Only now did Max wonder which way he should go down the dirt path—behind or forward? After wondering if he had a map, one appeared before him. It showed a green pine forest to the north, south, and west, the words Haigan Forest overlaid on it. More trees among the foothills stood to the east, too, but they stopped at a mountain range running north to south, the words Bier Peaks over them. He hadn’t noticed the white-capped mountains through the trees behind him, but now he peeked through the foliage to see them looming overhead. That explained the rolling hills, the rocks in the path, and a few boulders amid the underbrush.
The path led parallel to the mountains, and he couldn’t zoom out further to see what might be there. He likely had to explore to see more on his map. He dropped a pin on his location now to orient himself as he went. Then he started north, in the direction he’d been facing on appearing in the game, since that seemed like a hint of which way to go.
Before going too far, he wanted to try the valenders and spells, especially the offensive ones. Hand of the Grave probably needed a living target. Looking around and listening to the forest, he tried to approach some birds he’d been hearing. Within fifty yards, a bend in the path revealed a bird with a pale abdomen and green and yellow streaks on its back. It sat on a tree branch close to the way. He pulled up the Spell Screen again to refresh his memory before dismissing it and focusing on the bird. To his surprise, a sign popped up above it.
Antarian Sparrow. A common bird on the continent of Antaria, the Antarian Sparrow is invasive enough that some people try to repel them from (rather than attract them to) settlements and homes.
HP: 1/1.
Max prepared to do more than repel it.
Feel the touch of Krairon,
he said, holding out his open hand toward the bird. He felt a cold sensation down his arm before a ghostly copy of his hand floated out from his own. It moved across the distance separating them. Climbing steadily, since the target was above him by several feet, it headed straight for the bird, which flew away at the last moment, leaving the hand with nothing to grasp. The spell wouldn’t last much longer, but Max saw nothing else alive to grasp except vegetation. He closed his hand to make the spectral one do so around the tree branch, but he missed and tried again before it worked. Dropping his arm, he walked up to look at the branch just as the spell ended. The tree’s bark had white frost around it with a noticeable handprint, but it didn’t seem damaged. His mana had dropped by one but regenerated to full in just seconds.
Looking around, Max went searching for another bird. After a minute of stepping over fallen branches and rocks, he received a notification.
You gained a skill!
Stealth.
Proficiency Type: Active.
Level: 1.
You gained 25 XP!
That surprised him. He had chosen a few proficiencies during character creation and figured he’d gain them on leveling up, but now he gained one from attempting to do something. Now he wanted to practice such things.
Having found another bird like the first, he focused on the task. This time, the bird didn’t move as the hand closed around its body, which stiffened and trembled, the bird letting out a small squawk before falling to the ground and taking the spectral hand with it. Aline from a Dream Theater song popped into Max’s head, about watching a sparrow falling giving new meaning to it all, and that if death didn’t happen today, it would come soon enough. That applied to him just as well as the bird.
You have killed (1) Antarian Sparrow!
You gained 10 XP!
Loot corpse?
He gained more XP from the skill acquisition than killing the bird. Maybe this game wasn’t all about murder. That was encouraging. The bit about looting a bird surprised him, but he said yes and received another notification.
Sparrow feathers (2)
Sparrow feathers with necrotic damage (8)
Bird breast with necrotic damage (1)
Shit,
Max muttered. If I hadn’t used that spell, I might’ve been able to eat the breast later.
He remembered that the Sleep spell needed a feather, but he didn’t swap out his hot list of spells yet. What would happen if he used the feathers with necrotic damage in a spell? The results could be interesting. And unexpected. He took all the loot in case it might be useful. He could always ditch it from his inventory later. There was nothing else in there now.
He next tried casting Detect Magic and Weapon Ward, both working without issue, but what he really wanted was another target so he could try Orb of Doom. Continuing down the path, he brought up the mini map to keep an eye on his direction, seeing that the places he’d been remained visible among the otherwise greyed out areas. The mountains were falling behind him as he turned west, deeper into the Haigan Forest.
He soon found another harmless bird, this one on the ground, and reviewed Orb of Doom. Since it had four versions, one for each element, he tried the air version first.
Gather air,
he said, raising one hand, palm up. A softball-sized sphere of swirling air quickly formed an inch above his grip. Eyeing the target, he made a throwing motion, and the orb rocketed across the space between with a whoosh. It struck soundlessly as loose dead leaves exploded into the air from the blast, several small branches flying up and backward. The force of it all startled him, but he frowned in disappointment when the bird hurtled upward, wings furiously flapping to escape as it vanished. He’d missed.
Max tested it on a tree branch, missing twice more but by less each time. He used a small rock for the earth version, snapping the branch off with a loud crack. His shout of excitement made him realize he needed to be quiet in case a threat lurked nearby. Without a source of fire or ice, he’d have to wait on the ice and fire versions, so he moved on.
Minutes later, the dirt trail opened into an oblong clearing fifty feet wide. A small hill stood toward the other end beside a large boulder, which something could hide behind. Max paused on the trail, then moved behind a tree. Maybe going through there wasn’t wise, but he had seen nothing dangerous so far. The underbrush was just thick enough in the forest that he’d make noise if he tried to go around this. His mana was at full, but he had no other weapons. Stooping to get dirt in the middle of a fight wasn’t good, so he grabbed some now and decided the earth version of Orb of Doom would go first if needed, then the air version second.
He stepped back onto the path and tried to quietly jog his way across, hoping his Stealth skill would help, but he hadn’t gone far when the sound of large flapping caught his attention. The source was above the trees and toward the mountains. It sounded larger than any bird he knew of. And then he realized more than one pair of wings were flapping.
Kais, he guessed, realizing he should’ve studied the species descriptions at the character creation screen more. There were two races of the species, one benevolent, the other not so much. Only the sinister one concerned him now, so he pulled up its description.
Species: Kais.
Race: Daekais.
Summary: One of the seven original species, daekais exhibit the traits of the four Orange Sphere nefarious gods who created them: deception, greed, envy, and fear. They steal everything they can, and follow and ambush unsuspecting travelers. Daekais usually attack in numbers, the talons and bite poisonous. They excel at ranged attacks. From a distance, they can be mistaken for their more benevolent brothers, the morkais. Feather colors suggest their habitat: green for forest, gold for plains, blue for seas, and so on.
In the Divine Covenant, the gods turned two daekais into morkais, creating a new race. Now, the daekais are considered a race of the kais species.
Species Strengths: +1 Agility in the Air, +1 Dexterity, +1 Constitution.
Species Weaknesses: -1 Strength, -1 Intelligence, -2 Wisdom, -2 Charisma, -2 Morale, -5% Regeneration, -5% Attack Speed, -1 Reputation, Poor Concentration.
Species Bonuses: +50% Most Thieving Skills, +10% Poison Resistance, Assess Gems.
Class Restrictions: Any Heroic Classes (Knight, Paladin, Coiryn Rider, Winged Rider, Warder), Bard, Monk. Can be Sorcerers but not Wizards.
Feeling exposed and unable to hide, Max cringed when four of them crested the tree line. Each daekais was a three-and-a-half-foot tall humanoid with feathery wings of brown and green. Arched eyebrows added menace to the large, slanted, glaring eyes already on him. Unkempt orange hair was haphazardly shorn to an inch or two. The teeth were sharply pointed like their chins and ears. Garish baubles adorned most fingers, wrists, ankles, and their long, thin necks. The daekais had retractable talons on dirty, bare feet, and long nails on grimy hands. Above stained, tight leggings, they wore soiled, ill-fitting tunics that had holes in the back for the wings.
Max had no time to cast Weapon Ward before all of them raised a sling and fired stones that whistled through the air. Two soared by, but one struck