Before I had a chance to answer Grebbledel I received a notification from the system.
[Arcana increased from Level 0 -> 1]
“Hey, I gained a level in something called Arcana,” I said. Grebbledel was giving me a look giving me a strange sense of childlike pride. A feeling I hadn’t felt since I left for college. Pride turned to guilt as I realized how long it had been since I came home to visit my grandfather.
“Arcana is the lifeblood of the world of Phyrelia,” Grebbledel said. “Your understanding of magic and the power to control it all come from your knowledge and skill within Arcana. The more you use your nature-given magic the better you will be at it.”
“The bogdwellers right,” Finn said. “Head back to your system interface and open your skills tab.”
I did as Finn said and focused on calling the green text back into view. From there I turned my attention to the skills section and commanded it to open. My vision flooded with a long table of various skills and their levels along with an indicator of how far I had progressed in them.
<table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 30%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%; text-align: center" valign="top">
Skills
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%; text-align: center" valign="top">
Level
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%; text-align: center" valign="top">
Progress
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Acrobatics
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Alchemy
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Animal Handling
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Arcana
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 1
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Athletics
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Cooking
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Crafting
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 10
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Foraging
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
History
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Insight
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Investigation
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Medicine
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Melee Combat
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Navigation
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Persuasion
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Performance
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 10
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Ranged Combat
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Stealth
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Thievery
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 32.028%" valign="top">
Tracking
</td>
<td style="width: 34.0444%" valign="top">
Level 0
</td>
<td style="width: 33.8469%" valign="top">
[——————–] 0%
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
“Wow, there are a lot of different skills,” I said. I turned to Finn and asked, “Do you have the same set?”
“Yeah, we all have the same twenty skills. The maximum level you can achieve is 50. My highest right now is Ranged Combat at 25. It gets harder to level the higher they go. I stopped focusing on trying to enhance my skills a long time ago. Most of my advancements now come from simply living.” Finn unfolded his arms and turned to Grebbledel. “Which way did your horse run off to?”
The old bogdweller lifted his flat chin and stroked his long gray beard as he thought for a moment. “If memory serves me right, the last I saw of her was down the bend right there.” He pointed his long and bulbous finger down the path in the direction we were heading. “She turned south by the dead tree. See it bending over the path? Heard her bound off into the shallow bog from there.”
“Let’s go, Miles,” Finn started down the dusty path without turning around. I closed the interface and gave Grebbledel a quick nod before rushing to catch up to the bounding Springstep.
The deep blood red of the setting sun now turned into a violet hue of the rising dusk. The light turned as we passed the knotted tree growing from a deep inlet of the mire. Finn had summoned a torch from his bag and took a moment to light it. The torn cloth drenched in oil ignited in a blaze of flickering flame. Holding it out in front of him, Finn lowered himself to the ground and started brushing around the reeds and dry grass.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Tracking. May not be one of my highest skills but it sure beats whatever yours is. Let me take a guess. Level zero?” Finn said with a sly smile.
“Can you show me how to track? I mean I’ve gone hunting before with my grandfather, but he was the one who did all the actual hunting. I say hunting but we mostly sat around and looked out towards whatever open valley we found ourselves in. We’d light a small fire, roast marshmallows, and just… well just talk.” I crouched down to get a closer look at what Finn was doing.
“Sounds like a good time. I don’t remember my family or if I even had one,” Finn took a few steps forward and continued to search the ground. “Oh… here we go. Found something.” In a rush of motion Finn hopped up and started down a deep thicket of reeds and overgrown rushes. I hopped after him holding my staff out to push the plants away from my face.
It was tough going as the solid ground of the dirt path gave way to thick mud and murky waters. I almost lost sight of Finn several times in the tall grass but luckily, I was able to keep track of the glow of his burning torch. Despite this, I found myself constantly getting stuck in deep mud patches and getting smacked in the face with stray reeds. My new slender mousefeet sunk far into the earth with every step and my round ears snagged a few times on wandering branches. As I pushed farther into the Mireglades I started to realize that I was shorter than I was back in the real world. The thought ticked me off as I had to constantly pull my leg out from the thick trenches of swampy water. I tumbled out from a wall of wiry brush and hit Finn who was standing with his torch high in the air.
“Hold up Miles,” Finn held his arm out to stop me. “I think we’re being watched.”
“You think it’s those salamanders Grebbledel mentioned? I don’t expect a couple of amphibians to be dangerous… right?” I focused on my surroundings, twitching my ears back and forth hoping to pick up any abnormal sounds. The coming drift of night winds had picked up subtlely as we moved deeper into the Mireglades. They moved swiftly between the tall cattails and distant willows. It made it hard to pinpoint any specific sounds.
“It could be. My tracking skill set us on their path, but something seems off,” Finn handed me the torch then pulled his bow from his back and mounted an arrow to its string. “Do you smell that?”
I lifted my nose in the air and took a few sniffs. All I could make out was the musty smell of the bog. “I don’t. What are you smelling?”
“Smoke. Campfire smoke,” Finn said. I took another deep breath but couldn’t make out anything odd and the only smoke I could smell was from our own torch. “Drop the torch.”
“What?” I exclaimed.
“Drop the torch in the water. Quick,” Finn’s eyes tightened as his ears continued to turn. I plunged the head of the torch into the swamp, and it went out with a fizzle. Everything around us went dark almost as dark as the place before I woke up. The light of the rising moon broke through a narrow gap in the drifting clouds. My eyes adjusted to the dim light quicker than I thought. It would seem my new eyes could see better in the dark than my old ones. That’s nice.
I watched as the world changed. The static sound of brushing reeds and the dull light of dusk turned to a vision of brilliant clarity. All around me, I could see flickering dots of fireflies, the silvery streaks of fish in the ankle-high water, and the sudden flight of shadowy birds. It was all beautiful and vibrant. A world of magic. Then I saw something else. It was faint at first but as I concentrated a distant glow pooled out from the shifting bulrushes. The distant light of a campfire.
“Here’s your first lesson in training your skills,” Finn said. “Success brings experience. Even the most minor of successes can help you become better. Let’s start with Stealth. We are going to sneak up on the camp. If we’re lucky it’s a traveling merchant and they found the bogdwellers horse for us.”
“And if we’re unlucky?” I asked.
“Then this isn’t your typical beginner’s quest. Which raises a whole host of disturbing questions that I’m not ready to think about,” Finn crouched and motioned with his ears. “Stay low and follow me.”
The two of us stepped low through a wide opening in the rushes and reeds. We kept our feet from emerging from the waters to avoid splashing and only moved when the clouds covered the moonlight. It took us a good five minutes, but we managed to wade in behind a fallen birch giving us cover to peer into an open field. As we pulled up and sat in the shadows of the tree I got a notification from the system.
[Stealth increased from Level 0 -> 1]
Another skill increase already! Leveling up at the early levels must be incredibly easy. I wonder how long it would take to get to level fifty.
“This is certainly a surprise,” Finn said. “You’re intro quest just became a whole lot more interesting.”
I looked out at what Finn was staring at. Less than fifty feet from where we were hiding was a small earthen firepit with a couple of felled trees placed around it for seating. On the far end of the open dirt area, I could see a white horse tied off to a tall willow tree. To the north and chained to a few set posts were two of the biggest salamanders I had ever seen. They were the size of a fully grown retriever with flat heads, wide mouths, and thick tails. Their red skin was clammy and dotted with black spots. They had hints of smoke brimming from their teeth as they chewed on large bones. Occasionally one of the salamanders would snap at another and they would let out a vile screech.
Around the firepit were three batlike creatures. They had short yet muscular wings covered in thin patches of black hair. The firelight exposed the veins within the thin membranes of their wings. They each had pointed ears ribbed with cartilage and sharp fangs protruding from their thin lips. Two of them were on the short end of tall with the third, despite being hunched over, would easily stand two feet taller than me.
This third bat creature had a long, pink scar across his left eye and a notch cut from one of his ears. He was missing his left arm and his wings rose like dark mountain peaks behind his back. He was holding out a long pike letting the spearhead glow red in the fire. After a moment he pulled back the spear and pulled a hunk of black meat that was cooking at its tip. He tore into it with large bites letting the grease from the meat drip down his chin.
“Nightflyer bandits,” Finn whispered. “What are they doing in Briarfield? I’ve never seen them venture farther than the Dead Fields. NPCs don’t travel far from their spawn points.”
Revelas let out a high-pitched whine and kicked at one of the salamanders that had drawn too close.
“Keep your manders away from my prize Halgred or I’ll slit their throats and drink their blood,” One of the nightflyers said. His voice was like the dusty echo of a deep cave. He rolled his tongue as he talked and let out moist huffs from his flat nose. The smallest of the nightflyers, the one named Halgred, stood and pulled a whip from around his waist.
“Boss only let ya have it cuz you tied it first. It was my manders that hunted the beast down. I say we butcher the thing and give my pets a good dinner,” Halgred lifted a blade and started tapping it with a crude, black fingernail.
“It’s my beast and I’ll do what I want with it,” The first nightflyer lifted a blade from his side and sank the tip into the earth. “If you want it, you’ll have to fight me over it. Care to test your mettle against a true fighter?”
Halgred licked his lips and with a snap of his wrist, flung his blade towards the other nightflyer. It pierced the log he was sitting on with a loud thump.
“You damn fool!” The first nightflyer stood and pulled his sword up to his waist. He was about to step forward when something tugged at his boot.
“Keep your mouths shut, the both of ya. Or else I’ll feed ya to my own pets,” The large nightflyer said between grease-bleeding teeth. He then took a hard swallow and then ripped out another piece of blackened meat.
The two other nightflyers went quiet. Halgred was the first to sit down and started picking at his teeth with his blade. The other one looked down at his leg, then cautiously moved it away from something I couldn’t see. He then apologized to the big one like a child being scorned by a teacher. He sat down and kept his focus on the fire.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Finn said. “A Cleric Gravekeeper. Out of everything he could be, he had to be a Gravekeeper.”
Finn pointed out towards the ground near the first nightflyer. I followed his finger and saw something protruding from the earth. It took me a second to realize what it was. A skeletal hand moving by itself. Once I realized what it was, it had turned its claw-like fingers and dug itself into the ground.
Talking rabbits, wizard frogs, and now bones that move by themselves. What did you get yourself into Miles?