Chapter 2: Quests, Stats and a Dungeon

  The stats and magics of each planet are unique and require time to adapt. One scholar once drew a parallel to making wine. Grapes are not possible in all environments. Deserts or oceans do not have the right environmental makeup, but even if you have the right environment, there are a thousand other factors that will change the way the grape tastes. Was there a drought? How is the water? How much sun does it get? Once you understand how much a grape can change, then you need to start thinking about what else changes the wine.

  -A Traveler Guild professor who had too much wine

  A normal person would be in disbelief or mentally overwhelmed at the potential of having the totality of their being laid out before them in a stat sheet, but I am beyond caring. I have had too many things happen to me recently to be freaked out. So, the next thing I do is what anyone in a litRPG book would do: I mentally call up my character sheet.

  I look down at my stats. I’m pleasantly surprised by the high intelligence, constitution, and agility, though the intelligence stat is much higher than I ever would have given myself. I’m smart, but if this is anything like role-playing games, it’s too high. I’m no athlete, but I run regularly around the local park trails. I’ve also never missed a day of work from getting sick, which could explain the high constitution. When I was younger, I did weightlifting, but I guess that doesn’t stack up to the manual labor most medieval societies require on a daily basis. I ponder why I don’t have any physical skills. Did they have to be fighting or crafting skills? What kind of advantage would I get from gaining and leveling physical skills?

  Putting aside my questions on physical skills for the moment, I look at the magic skills. I have no idea what’s going on with the magic affinity or magic skills. I flick my eyes over to see my new companion and minimize my menu for now. She’s not very responsive, and I feel a bit bad she can’t remember anything. Though on second thought, looking at the scene around me, a diminished memory may be for the best. I feel I need to give her a name. Calling her “ghost lady” all the time sounds a bit demeaning.

  “It looks like you’ll be sticking around for a while. If you’re going to hang around, I at least need to call you something.”

  “I do not know my name,” she replies in that same dry tone.

  “Well, I need to call you something. You’re kind of spooky and magical. How about I call you Morgana?”

  She gently nods in acceptance, and I give her a smile.

  “So, Morgana, what do you know about physical and magical skills?”

  Morgana shrugs her nonexistent shoulders. “The great system was made by the gods to help humans survive. If an action significantly increases your chance of survival, a skill enhancing it should be generated. This means that some people may get a skill while others will not, regardless of how much they train. At least that is what I remember.”

  Before I can respond, another blue window appears.

  I look over the quest and furrow my brows. The line about hurtling through the planes is a bit concerning, but the more immediate concern is the mention of predators. What is trying to kill me now? I whirl in place, checking my surroundings, because of my spiking paranoia. Wanting to be out of my current location as quickly as I can manage, I move to search the bodies for anything of value. Again, I catch the faint odor of burned heart and cooked meat that makes me want to gag. As I take a closer look, I see black burn marks on them and some of the webbing design that people struck by lightning have. Still, lightning wouldn’t create a crater this big, and I have never heard of lightning hitting a group of people at once. I would be tempted to wave the whole thing off as an act of God if not for the quest.

  Each body I search causes my panic to rise a little more. I wonder if I have overstayed or if something might return. It doesn’t help to see the ghost boring a hole through my head as she dispassionately stares at me as I pick over her corpse. I want to snap at her to tell her to help me out but that would get me nowhere.

  The girl’s body has nothing of value. In fact, it looks like she was a slave or prisoner. When I search the second body for supplies, the armor I find on them for their protection reinforces this theory. There are five figures. Two of the men and one of the women’s bodies are clothed in leather armor. Unfortunately, their frames are a little too small for the leathers to properly fit me. One of the women with pointed ears was wearing an extra loose-fitting robe over her undergarments, so I put the robe on. It won’t be much protection, but it will shield me from the sun and the elements. I also find a waterskin with fresh water, a belt, a short sword, a short bow, and a quiver of arrows. I feel a little ridiculous with the weapons strapped over a robe, but it’s better than being naked.

  Not wanting to stay any longer, I scurry out of the clearing into the woods. I don’t have a direction or any idea of a plan; I only wanted to leave the spooky death circle as fast as possible. I pick a random direction and travel as fast as I can barefoot in that direction. The forest floor has hard-packed earth, leaves, and a few sticks. Nothing that is particularly dangerous, but the bottom of my feet are soft. I’m not going to risk my bare feet, so I do a kind of hopping skip over sections as I make my way through the forest. I continue this awkward skipping until I’m out of breath. Panting, I look up to see a cave. I’m not sure if I was drawn to it or particularly lucky, but I’m excited to see a potential shelter—or at least a place to hide from my pursuers. As I near it, I feel a weird sense, like the air is denser. Before I can question it, a notification enters my vision, and I stare on in horror.

  It’s an aquatic dungeon. I look down into the black maw of the cave, wondering what monsters might lurk just beyond the darkness, and if the monsters are contained in the magic of the dungeon, or they might disgorge out of the recesses when I turn my back.

  My horror abates a little when I read the next message.

  I look at the prompt and a growing hunger in me overpowers the fear of the unknown. I’m not sure what other affinities I might unlock or what an artifact is, but my imagination runs away thinking of the potential. I still haven’t been able to do anything with my darkness affinity, but what if I can lead armies of the undead and throw fireballs? What really makes me decide to go into the dungeon is the prompt reminding me about how I’m being chased by predators. With slow, hesitant steps, I make my way forward into the throat of the cave.

  The cave is about twice my height and three meters wide. More than enough room for me to move and flail about. As I leave the sunlight, I feel the cold, humid air surround me. As I walk farther in, the ground turns to sand, and then water comes up to my ankles. The cave grows darker, but a soft light emanates from crystal veins deep within the rock. For those areas not covered in the crystal veins, glowing moss coats the tunnels in patches. It’s more than enough to see with, but it’s also dim enough that anything could be hiding in the darkness deeper in the cave.

  The robe I’m wearing starts to drag as the hem dips in the water at my feet. Concerned I might trip and fall at a critical moment, I take my knife and cut the cloth up to my knees. As I finish, I hear a hiss from farther down the tunnel. I crouch and peer into the darkness to find a serpentine form snaking through the water. The creature looks like a mix of a lamprey and a snake. It’s two inches in diameter and two feet long, but the circular mouth with two prominent fangs looks like something out of a nightmare.

  “Nope, nope, nope, do not come near me,” I warn it as I draw the sword, moving backward slowly.

  In total defiance of my warning, a green glow surrounds the snake before the creature lifts from the water, jumping right at my face. I swing the sword like a bat and nick it on the tail, sending it off course. The swing isn’t graceful, but it does the job of saving my face from whatever the nightmare creature had planned. With baleful serpentine eyes, it hisses at me as it coils, and I see a plume of red in the water where the cut is bleeding. I ready the sword to bat it again, when instead it snakes forward in the water at foot level. I back up, trying in vain to create distance as I take a few swings at the water to ward it back.

  Pain blossoms as the creature’s teeth scrape my foot, taking a small bite out of my exposed leg. I kick it in the head when it tries to take another bite out of me. I square up, lining up my blade to swing at the snake-lamprey creature as it tries to close the distance again. I get a good swipe, cutting it deep and slamming it into the wall. This time, a deep, blossoming red cascades from the snake thing. It coils in on itself to protect its wounded form, hissing a warning at me.

  “Nope, you should have listened when I told you to stay away. Now I’m coming for you,” I scream.

  The snake lashes out as I get closer, but is unwilling to commit to a strike. With the reach I have with the sword, I can strike without fear of being bitten. Each strike causes it to hiss more aggressively. Even when a piece of its tail is chopped off, the monstrosity doesn’t let up, and it tries one last time to close with me. Unfortunately for it, it’s clumsy, and I’m able to back up as I continue to land deep gouges in it.

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  “Whew, that was tough, but I got it.” I look over to the ghost following me around. “What do you think the chances are that the snake thing was the boss?”

  The ghost looks back at me, not even blinking. I sigh before saying, “Yeah…but it was a nice thought.”

  What is nice, however, is the number of pop-ups that appear in my vision.

  Back in my previous life, I really liked min-maxing, playing games where I could select my stats to create builds to maximize the damage or abilities of my character. I’m a wargamer at heart, a person who plays a game with the intention of maximizing their ability to fight. Playing as a wargamer was a kind of puzzle to be solved. The puzzle being: how could I best bring out my character’s potential for destruction? While in the past, I had always felt long, drawn-out character interactions were boring and time-consuming. Now that I’m in a fantasy world, I would prefer forgoing the combat, and only have character interactions, but this is not a game. It’s my life, full of complexity and for now, survival and combat. I take a moment daydreaming about how nice it would be to navigate dialogue in a town with a warm, comfortable inn bed; that kind of fantasy world sounds amazing. In the fantasy games I played, I also favored a magic caster more than a melee character. Sometimes it was fun to smash an imaginary face in, but the variety and flexibility of magic casting was more appealing.

  Unfortunately, in this fantasy world, I haven’t yet figured out magic casting. I also see I have lost a few hit points from the last encounter. I’m sure putting stat points into dexterity won’t make me a sword master, but it might help me not stab myself. I slowly spread my attribute points across strength, dexterity, agility, constitution, and endurance. I can feel deep itching as my body’s potential changes. The increase in stats is not world changing. I swing the sword in large arcs, feeling that it’s a bit lighter and I’m more coordinated. For the skill point, it’s tempting to invest it into swordsmanship, but I put it into necromancy, hoping it might help give some insight. Unfortunately, no epiphany is forthcoming.

  With determination, I set off to face the next challenge. I keep my sword in hand, and I’m grateful I did so when I see another of the large lamprey-snake hybrids cutting through the water. This time, when it flies from the water, I chop down with the sword, scoring deep on the first cut and watching two pieces smack against the wall. I smile until I feel a searing pain in my shoulder. I look over to see the wriggling form of another of the creatures clamped onto my shoulder. I was so focused on the first that I didn’t notice the second one darting behind it.

  “Ah! Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!” I scream in a manner that is definitely manly despite the high, shrill tone. Nothing changes until I drop my sword, grab the snake with one hand, and hack at it with the less cumbersome knife. The creature retracts from my shoulder as the knife cuts into it. I keep a firm grip on its slick scales as it thrashes. Adrenaline pumps through me as the creature seeks to sink its teeth into me again, and I grip its slippery scute with all my strength. My other hand rapidly swings down to sever the nightmare creature in two. The mouth opening threateningly in my face is terrifying, but with it held in my adrenaline-fueled iron grip, I chop its head off. As it dies, I throw it on the ground and turn to find the sword I discarded.

  I curse under my breath when I see the other creature’s wounded form curled up around my sword. I don’t like the lack of range I have with my knife. I think about waiting to see if it will just die when I notice a faint glow at the bloody stump. Before my eyes, the snake is healing at a visible rate. The tail is not recovering, but the open gash is closing, meaning it will probably not die of blood loss. Now that I know the creature has magical healing, I decide waiting is no longer an option—I need to finish this fight fast. I bend over, putting my arms out in front of me, trying to wave them to distract the animal. The lamprey watches the knife as I sway it back and forth threateningly.

  Its teeth undulate in a way that causes my skin to crawl, and I see the muscles under its scales tense. Before it can strike my arm, I grab it from behind. I feel it thrash, and I slide the knife just above my arm to decapitate the monster wriggling in my grip. I smile as I get another notification, confirmation that I finished both hybrid creatures.

  Unfortunately, there is not a level up this time. I mentally reach for my status, but I only want to see my health, endurance, and mana. I notice I have lost about a fifth of my health, and the bar is pulsing as it slowly ticks down. My endurance is missing a few points, but my mana is still at full.

  The last fight had doubled the enemies, and I had taken more hits. I’m not quite as confident to take on the next challenge as I was after the first fight. I let the adrenaline die down to calm the frantic energy coursing through me before I start taking a few practice swings with my sword. Not wanting another enemy to sneak up on me, I backtrack toward the entrance, then begin to slowly move through practiced swings. I had taken some martial arts back in college and even learned some sword forms. I never used them in any meaningful way but practiced them in hopes of gaining some familiarity. I don’t remember why I tried to learn sword skills, but I enjoyed it. After a long day of tests or the stress of work, doing a simple physical exercise like practicing the sword forms was calming. I go through the form ten times, then I see a notification that I leveled up the skill. I grin at the notice that I’m getting better and redouble my effort to practice more. After trying another twenty times and not seeing my skill level, I check my health.

  Whatever magic there is in this world, I’m relieved to see the supernatural healing it grants me is part of it. It’s not as powerful as the visible healing the monster had shown, but the bites and scratches I received are scabbed over. My health bar has recovered a little bit, but it’s about ten points short of max health. If the cuts had bled any more, I would have needed to leave the dungeon and cut up what remains of the robe for bandages. I’m not confident what would happen if I did that. Farming the dungeon would be smart, but what if I fail the quest? Am I locked out for good? Even with the risk of failure, I decide a few health points shy of full is no reason to leave.

  With determination, I resume my trek deeper into the dungeon. My anxiety slowly rises with each step, mirroring the creeping rise of the waterline up my leg as I venture deeper into the cave. Eventually, I see a large rock in the middle of the tunnel. Confused at the sight, I inch forward with slow deliberate steps while searching for signs of the snake-lampreys. The lack of any monsters give credence to a growing suspicion: maybe I am walking into a trap?

  When I’m within two meters, the rock shifts, disturbing the sand in the water. I give the shifting rock space, only to see it unfurl itself into a giant crab. The crab is the size of a small dog or cat, with pincers the size of a grapefruit. It eyes me warily, snapping its pincers threateningly.

  “Great, first nightmare snakes, now a giant aquatic spider,” I grumble.

  I glance at the ghost following behind me, motioning to crab. “I mean, look, it’s creepy and has eight legs. It’s basically a water spider.”

  Before I can continue with the finer points of how creepy the spindly creature is, the animated rock exhibits its nature by crawling toward me. The lanky limbs are easy to block and dodge, with each strike clearly broadcasted, but the problem comes when I try to counterattack. The shell is as hard as a stone, and no matter how hard I hit the limbs, they remain unmarred.

  A plan forms in my mind: I can do damage if I hit the joints where there’s no armor. It takes a few tries—swinging a sword at a small moving area with precision is difficult for me—but eventually, I succeed in dismantling the left arm. Even after landing a few hits, I can see it’s not completely cast off, but it’s enough to do critical damage, making it unable to attack with that arm. With the left arm lame, I concentrate on the right. Without the need to fend off the left arm, I have little trouble hitting my target this time. The sword slices through the joint of the limb, and the crab screams in a high-pitched shrill as its severed arm splashes into the water. As I close the distance to finish the crab, it starts to back away.

  Feeling confident, I step on the dragging left limb to keep it in place, only to realize my mistake as I feel a sharp pain on the bottom of my foot. The spiney ridges on the damaged appendage puncture my sole, causing red blood to pump into the water. Unable to keep weight on my injured foot, I fall on my back. I should have known better than to touch the overgrown fossilized spider.

  The skittering creature moves forward to take advantage of my mistake, and all I see is a mouth full of fanged mandibles coming at me. I know the sword will take too long to bring up, so I grab the knife with my left hand and stab. I cry out as I stab in its maw. The blade goes inside, cutting something, but the knife sinks deep enough that the fanged mandibles are in reach of my hand. The mandibles cut and stab into my fingers with all the vengeance they can manage.

  I begin jabbing and twisting the knife in the crab, stabbing it half a dozen times before it falls over, a tombstone of its own making. I stab it another half a dozen times to leave no doubt the creepy creature is eliminated before I drop the knife, coated in a mix of red and blue blood. I look down at my bloody hand and grimace. I know there are numerous webs of blood vessels in the hand. A small cut can bleed profusely, making even small injuries appear grievous. I’m not able to tell how bad the injury is with my hand coated in the crimson liquid; I will need to wash it off to see how bad the cut is. I suck in a breath and wrap my stinging hand in the sleeve of my tunic, more concerned about stopping the bleeding than assessing the damage yet.

  I smile at reaching level two. I want to put most of my attribute points into strength and dexterity, but the sting of my bloody hand makes me reconsider. I put a point each in wisdom, strength, and dexterity, and two in constitution. I chose the point in wisdom to help prevent another lamprey from sneaking up on me. The first level up was not very noticeable since I spread out my stats, but now, having received multiple points in different stats, I can tell there is a noticeable change. With the combined dexterity, agility, and strength points, I am in peak condition. Wisdom was always noted as awareness in the tabletop games I had played. Even as I selected it, I could feel my senses expand a little. The increase in wisdom feels like when your ears pop, the sensation of crystal-clear hearing after getting over a cold. I work my jaw and feel the itch all over. I pull up my stats to see the changes.

  I will save the skill point for now. If I could level up my sword skill by doing a dozen practice swings in a cave, then I’m sure I can level my skills at least a few more times on my own.

  With my sword in hand and knife on my belt, I continue down the path. Part of me hopes the crab meat will be in the cave when I get back. I might be able to start a fire and cook dinner with it. I’m not hungry yet, but I learned my lesson when grocery shopping hungry in my last life: When you’re not hungry, is the best time to plan a meal.

  I resume my trudging walk through the shallows, eyeing the damp walls like the throat of a great beast, and wondering if the dungeon will swallow me, never to return to the light again. Despite my fears, I push forward, determined to finish and gain the quest reward.