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Battleborne Page 3


  Max thought it over for nearly a full minute, trying to remember what his guys had spoken about. He recalled an argument between one of his guys and a corporal from another squad. Something about magic user classes being better than physical damage dealers.

  “Uhm, am I supposed to pick a… class, thing? Like, do I choose to be a wizard, or a thief, or something?”

  “The choices you make as you learn and grow will lead you toward a path of specialization. Or, they won’t. There are no hard and fast rules on your new world. You can choose to be a paladin of one of the gods, or a simple farmer. You could join the elves as stewards of the forests, or live deep underground eating mushrooms and hunting rock spiders. With your elven heritage, you might live long enough to do all of those things, and more.” She paused, her eyes sparkling again. “Assuming you don’t-”

  “Stand still and let fireballs hit me.” He cut her off, returning her smile. “I hear you.”

  Max stood in silence for a moment, gazing at the avatar in front of him. He glanced at the status sheet, then back again several times, wrapping his mind around the strengths and weaknesses of his new body. The possibilities Red had presented him with whirled through his mind, threatening to overwhelm him. Stepping back, he took a knee and lowered his head, breathing deeply for half a minute or so, eyes closed. A skill he had learned during his years in combat. When things got hairy, and he began to feel himself losing control, a few deep breaths did wonders to clear his head.

  When he felt sufficiently centered, he stood up straight and opened his eyes, finding Red atop her pedestal. “Anything else we need to cover before it’s go-time?”

  “Try not to die.” She said with her most serious face. “You can summon me at need, if you have questions, or just want company. I will not be able to physically interact with your world, but you will be able to see and hear me.”

  “I guess I’m ready to go.” He really wasn’t, but his pride was goading him into taking the leap, rather than hide in this safe space and ask questions all day. He’d just met Red, but he had faith that she would not send him out into this new world missing any vital information. Max took another deep breath, telling himself that she’d be there to answer questions.

  And in the back of his mind, he was hoping to find one or two of his guys who knew about magic and monsters and such.

  “The time of your next Incarnation has come, Battleborne. May the gaze of the gods fall lightly upon you.” Red waved a hand, and the ambient light faded into an increasingly familiar nothingness.

  *****

  The first sensation that registered with Max was weight. He felt heavier than he was used to. The uneven ground under him was pressing into his back and legs, and what felt like stones or sticks poked at his skin. Smell came next, with a startling flood of scents. Some familiar, like the damp, earthy smell of soil and decaying leaves. Others less so. There was a musky scent that he assumed was some kind of animal.

  That realization caused a spike in his pulse rate, and he sat up quickly, opening his eyes and scanning his surroundings for any threats. A moment later, after finding no obvious danger, he began to relax slightly. He breathed deep, taking in crisp air in a higher volume than he expected. After a moment, he coughed, then took another deep breath.

  “Bigger body, bigger lungs.” he muttered. His voice was deeper now, and had a bit of a gravelly rumble to it. Looking around, he noted several tall trees scattered about, with minimal undergrowth between them. He heard the canopy above rustle in the breeze, and immediately suffered a flashback. He turned himself over and hugged the forest floor as his mind replayed a memory of the mortar round that ended his previous life.

  When the moment passed, and no explosion rocked him, he let out the breath he’d been holding. Placing his oversized, clawed hands firmly in the dirt, he pushed himself up and got to his feet. “Well, that sucked.”

  Brushing the dirt off his hands and body, Max took stock of himself. The ground was a good foot further away than he was used to. His entire adult life he’d been just over six feet tall. Now he was at least seven. Taking an experimental step caused him to wobble slightly. His feet were bigger, his legs and body longer, and he weighed maybe twice as much as his brain thought he should.

  “The friggin troll and stonetalon bones.” He said to himself, beginning to like his new voice. “I feel like I’m walking with concrete blocks for shoes.”

  Raising his hands, he noted the sharp, ebony claws that extended from the dusky-skinned fingers. “At least I still have five fingers and toes” he said as he waved his arms in a windmill motion, trying to adjust to their different weight and dimensions. A moment later he tried jumping jacks, a movement he’d made tens of thousands of times during his training. He promptly lost his balance and fell to one side, crashing into a shrub at the base of a tree.

  There was a squeal of terror, and a small white bunny shot out of the undergrowth. It bounded away, disappearing behind another tree. The sight caused Max’s stomach to rumble quite loudly.

  Max carefully extricated his oversized body from the shrubbery, pushing himself back up to his feet. He noticed the bush had several sharp branches as well as hundreds of thorns, and quickly examined himself, expecting to find cuts and punctures. His only clothing was a loincloth-looking thing that felt like it was made of canvas. The rest of his skin was exposed, but he found no evidence of any wounds, or even scratches.

  “Heh. Troll skin. I can live with that.”

  He spent the next five minutes adjusting to his new body. He walked around the nearby tree, stepping slowly and carefully, watching the ground as he placed each foot. Which prevented him from seeing the branch he smacked his head against after a few steps. The impact didn’t damage him, but it did knock him off balance, and he fell awkwardly onto his butt. A red “-2” flashed across his vision.

  “What the…?” He sat where he was, watching the number fade away, then shook his head. “Clear enough. Just took two points of fallin-on-my-ass damage.”

  That realization prompted him to pull up his status sheet. The information appeared as soon as he thought about it, and he found a few new additions. First, to the right of his Battleborne title, underneath the health and mana sections, it now read Level 0: 00/100xp

  He knew enough from his shooter and tank games to understand the level and experience required. Though he’d never played a game that started at level zero. Usually it was level one.

  The next thing he noticed was that his Health and Mana each had grey bars next to them. Even as he looked at the very slightly depleted health bar, it ticked back to full with a green “+2” that floated across his view just like the red one. Neither of the bars had a number associated with them, which confused him until he remembered that he needed to assign his human attribute points before his final calculation would be complete.

  “That fall barely registered. I think I’m okay for a bit. If something comes and takes a bite out of me, we’ll see how far my bar drops.” He stepped to a relatively level spot between trees, and tried again with the jumping jacks. This time he was just a bit wobbly to start, and quickly adjusted to his new dimensions. In no time he had cranked out a hundred of them without stumbling at all. Then he did a few sprints from one tree to the next, surprised by his speed and strength.

  “This will work!” he half-shouted. Stepping under the closest tree, he found a thick branch about a dozen feet off the ground, and leapt toward it. Arms high, he easily reached the branch and latched onto it with both hands. He felt his claws dig into the wood, and smiled as he hung in the air. Pulling himself up, he easily did twenty chin presses, his arms bulging with corded muscle. When he wasn’t even breathing hard at the end, he let go with his left hand and tried pulling himself up with just his right. Again it was easier than he expected, though he did have to strain a little to put chin to branch.

  After thirty minutes of running, jumping, and generally gyrating around, he felt reasonably comfortable in his new
skin. At the same time, he’d been noticing that his senses seemed greatly improved over his previous body’s. His sense of smell told him that the bunny hadn’t fled far, and was in fact hiding behind a nearby tree. The scent registered as a combination of earth, sweat, and fear somewhere in a primitive part of his mind. His eyesight was greatly improved over human norm, a gift of his elven blood. Max could make out the details of the bark on a tree a hundred yards distant. It was like having binoculars that automatically adjusted for distance without ever going blurry.

  The scent of the frightened bunny caused his stomach to grumble again, and he decided it was time to eat. “Sorry, little bunny. It’s you, or me.” He looked around for something to use as a weapon. There were several small stones littering the ground, but he didn’t trust himself to be able to aim properly with his new arms. Instead, he looked up and ripped a small branch from a tree. Taking a moment to pull a few of the smaller sticks off, the sight of his claws gave him an idea. He carefully placed his thumbnail against a small offshoot on the branch, and sliced at it. The claw didn’t break, as he half expected. Instead, it sliced about halfway through the wood. A second pass severed it cleanly from the branch. He repeated the process over and over until the branch was stick-free. Then he used his finger claws to slice and peel the bark from the branch until it was relatively clean. As he gazed at his handiwork, another message popped into his vision. He froze when a chiming sound rang in his ears.

  You have learned the skill: Examine!

  By focusing on an item, you can discern basic information about its properties. Continued use of this skill may increase its level and functionality.

  A split second later, a description appeared.

  Common Club

  Item Quality: Crude

  Damage: 1-5 Blunt

  Durability: 10/10

  Max was grinning and waving the branch around when a third notification popped up.

  You have learned the skill: Woodcraft!

  Turning a tree branch into a crude club is no great feat of engineering, but you have gained a basic knowledge of the crafting skill Woodcraft.

  Continued use of this skill may increase its level and functionality.

  The stout branch, which was maybe six feet long and six inches thick, felt good in his hand. As he continued to take a few practice swings, it occurred to him that he was only using one hand! In his old body, it would have taken him two hands and a decent bit of wrist and forearm strength to swing the thing. Now his massive right paw almost completely encircled the wood, and his sharp nails ensured a secure grip.

  “Heeere, bunny bunny.” He whispered as he bent slightly and tried to tiptoe quietly toward its hiding place.

  Chapter 3

  Sitting with his back against a tree trunk, Max watched as a cut on his leg slowly healed. The wound had stopped bleeding quickly, and now his skin was knitting itself back together before his very eyes. It had only been about three minutes since he’d taken the wound. Best guess, it would be fully healed in another minute or so.

  Laying next to him was the corpse of the bunny. “Tough little sucker, I’ll give you that.” He muttered to the creature as he grabbed it by the scruff and lifted it. “Sharp teeth, too.”

  Max had stalked the little creature, his larger body not exactly quiet as he moved closer to its hiding spot. When he lunged at it, swinging his hefty club overhead, the poor thing had frozen in fear for an instant. What might have been an easy kill was foiled when the club struck a small branch. The impact deflected the path of the club just enough that it grazed the petrified bunny, rather than killing it.

  And that pissed it off.

  With a scream, the grumpy bunny charged at Max, its hind legs propelling it forward at surprising speed. Max tried to back away, but his momentum was still moving him forward toward the critter, and he was too slow. It latched onto his leg, sharp teeth barely penetrating his troll skin. But the little bastard didn’t give up. It held on, and began to gnaw on Max like a pork chop.

  Dropping his club, Max reached down and simply grabbed the bunny, his newfound strength combined with adrenaline causing him to accidentally crush its skull as he pulled it off his leg. Its scream of pain was cut short when the skull gave way.

  Max had looked around nervously, expecting to be attacked. He remembered reading a book where a dwarf had pissed off a bunny by crushing it, and was attacked and killed by a mob of its cousins. When no raging mob of fluffy white critters came rushing at him, he’d chuckled to himself and sat down.

  There was a green dot blinking in the upper left corner of his vision, even as a green “+2” floated upward, indicating he was fully healed. Suspecting what it was, he mentally clicked on the dot, and found two new notifications.

  First Kill!

  You have successfully murdered your first woodland creature. Not very elflike of you, but hey, a Chimera’s gotta eat. Reward: 20 exp; bunny carcass.

  You have learned the skill: Unarmed!

  Your complete failure using a weapon, combined with your unconventional barehanded kill has earned you the skill Unarmed.

  Continued use of this skill may increase its level and functionality.

  Now, staring at the limp bunny in his hand, Max’s stomach growled quite loudly. “I need to find a way to cook this thing.” He instinctively reached toward his chest with his free hand, to the spot where his old jacket had a pocket that contained a lighter. Finding no jacket, and thus no lighter, he cursed quietly. Remembering that in some of his shooter games, his character had an inventory where he carried weapons, food, med packs and the like, he closed his eyes and thought Inventory.

  A new display popped up, showing his avatar, the canvas loincloth highlighted with a golden glow.

  “That’s it? That’s all I have?” He asked aloud. Only the sounds of birds chirping and the breeze rustling through the trees answered him. “Well, shit.” He considered the dead bunny in his hand for a moment. “I need to clean this thing, at least. Before it starts to go bad.”

  As a hunter, Max knew there was a finite time frame when one needed to gut and dress an animal before the bacteria and acids in its internal organs began to spoil the meat. He assumed that to be a pretty universal constant. Not having access to a knife, he improvised.

  Using his thumbnail once again, he slit the bunny’s belly from throat to tail. It wasn’t easy, and the cut was ragged, but the nail did the job well enough. Grimacing, he reached his hand into the open cavity and began to scoop the guts out. He used his finger claws to sever connections, and to better grip the slippery bits. Once that was done, he used his claws to cut the bunny’s hide all the way around its neck, then simply gripped the crushed skull and twisted. The spine snapped, then popped as he pulled with more strength than he could have applied as a man.

  Dropping the severed head next to the pile of guts, Max grabbed his discarded club and got to his feet. “Need to find some water, firewood.” He looked down at the pile of guts. “And get far away from that, before a predator smells it and comes to investigate.”

  Taking in his surroundings, Max saw unending forest as far as even his elven sight could see. Tall trees, the trunks mostly two to three feet thick, with sunlight breaking through the canopy highlighting random bits of forest floor. Smaller saplings and shrubs scattered sparsely about. No sign of a road, trail, or civilization of any kind. With a shrug, he turned and headed up the slight slope he was on, thinking to find high ground and get a better view.

  With his club in his right hand, and the partly-dressed bunny in his left, he climbed the increasingly steep slope. Before long he began to pass large stones sticking up out of the earth here and there. Then even larger boulders, some taller than Max, individually and in clusters. He unconsciously began to use the club as a walking stick, though his legs easily carried him upward, and he barely felt the exertion of climbing.

  After a while, the tall trees thinned out, and he found himself standing on a rocky foothill covered in shor
ter, evergreen type trees, looking up at a steep mountain ridge. To his left, about a quarter mile away, he could see a small waterfall that cut into a low cliff. He immediately headed that direction. Water was the most important basic resource for survival. Despite his growling belly, he knew he could probably go without food for several days. But a human couldn’t go without water for more than two, maybe three days. And he had no idea what the needs of his new body might be.

  Along the way to the water source, Max studied the rocks he passed. He was hoping to find flint, or this world’s equivalent of it. If he could locate some, it might help him get a fire started. And he could maybe fashion a stone knife with a sharp edge. He needed to skin the rabbit before cooking it, and his claws, though sharp, would make a mess of it.

  He spotted some loose rocks and pebbles at the base of one boulder cluster, and bent to sort through them. There was nothing that resembled flint, but he did note a few larger stones that shone with a mineral glow. Unsure what metals might be valuable in this world, he decided to hold onto a couple of them. With no pockets, and no bag to carry anything in, he simply stuffed the stones inside the bunny’s empty stomach cavity, then held the hide closed as he resumed his walk.

  It only took him another minute or so to reach the waterfall, which emptied into a deep pool surrounded by stones. The pool in turn fed a stream that meandered down into the forest he’d just left. Max decided to follow that stream once he was done eating and getting his bearings.