My first few days here passed just like that. Following the stream. Eating grubs. Crafting rope from grasses and vines. This lead to more skills. By the time I hit level 5 [Survival] I had gained the ability to make a fire with sticks and, or rocks. To make a cutting knife and lash my new ropes to the rocks and sticks to make other simple tools and best of all, how to make a bow and arrow. The flying things in the trees above me had feathers instead of scales or fine fur. Those were perfect for using on the arrows. Between that and the fire, I was able to get some real food.
It wasn’t perfect, and the first time I had one of the feathered things cooked as best as I could I knew I would need some kind of preparation skill, or I’d just have to remember that you needed to empty the organs out first. I had no idea how to properly clean those after all. What I really needed was some way to write things down. It’s not like I had a tablet or something out here. I’d settle for non typed writing, something I’d practiced in sims to work on my writing skills. Most didn’t since it wasn’t practical for most jobs or life styles, but as I wanted to be an author it was suggested for me to learn. As it is where authors got there start in the long before first contact days. It even lead me to my love of fantasy writing, set in an un-contacted world with magic. Much like where I was now it seemed, but in my stories there would already be a castle and some kind of wizard to help me out. Instead I was just in the woods learning how not to starve.
For this day I decided to slow my march considerably and take to hunting. The first bird I had killed had given me enough feathers for a handful of proper arrows. The rope and tools skills let me fashion a bow that would last a while, and even a primitive quiver to hold the arrows snug to my body. I stayed still, watching the canopy of the trees. It took time but when night was falling I had five plump bodies sitting on a flat stone with a cleared fire pit area to work with. Five was a bit much for me to eat, even with the hunger I had felt lately, but I needed the feathers. I needed to hone my skills.
I started with plucking each bird and making a good pile of feathers in my carrying sling. Next, I gutted each of them, letting the viscera fall into a second fire pit close by. Then I put each bird on primitive splits and put them over the fire to cook, turning once in a while as I did the rest of my work. Arrows, a few small knives for cutting plants and gutting animals, more rope for general use, and even a small hatchet. The hatchet couldn’t cut down a tree but it was good for breaking downed branches or cutting tougher plant fibers than the knives alone could handle. I bet it could also break apart a larger animal at the joins.
When I slept that night I found a brand new class waiting for me. [Hunter] 1, complete with a better version of the skills I had taught myself. Mainly, knowing how to gut and skin animals. That was useful, especially when I took on something bigger. I had my bow and was crouched down amid some of the stream plants when I spied a mammal-looking creature approach for a drink. It was a bit upstream, smelling of soft musk. Weird horns grew from the sides of its head, curling upwards. It looked edible to me, and its hide might be useful too. I might not have achieved tracking skills, but I didn’t know those to understand what I should do.
Watching the animal drink I tried not to move much more than my hands and arms. One arrow, pulled back, and waiting. I wasn’t so hungry that my arms would shake but I told myself to breath and steady anyway. The tension of the bow alone would cause issues after a while if I kept holding this stance. But still I wait… and let my instincts guide. Training from games alone taught me what to do here. As it finished drinking I let the arrow loose right at the neck of the beast.
The creature let out a strangled scream, turning and trying to bolt. I didn’t have any good skill to fire on the run, just one for crafting the tools, so I took off after it. The hoofed animal was fast, but my legs were faster. The only thing that slowed me was the trees. I couldn’t maneuver as easily between the bark. But my arrow had placed something vital and as it moved blood kept escaping from the wound.
It collapsed before I could catch up, sagging to the ground, legs twitching. I made sure to stay clear of those, feeling bad for what would become my meal. It was in pain, and I wasn’t skilled enough to release it quickly. My knives could cut but they were not sharp enough to be clean. So I did what I could, wanting to throw up after the deed was done. The birds had been easy. One shot and it seemed to kill them right off, or the impact with the ground did. They didn’t suffer like this.
With the way I had been leveling, without even knowing how the system worked, I felt that another day or two out here and those concerns would no longer apply. Some skill would come in and help me get a faster, more painless kill. That caused me to pause in the middle of skinning what I could. Was I already so reliant on the systems of whatever world I found myself in? That was a dangerous path unto its own.
Yes these new skills and abilities were helping me survive right now. Keeping me from poisoning myself, from starving and the like. But to rely only on gaining new ones just felt wrong to me. It was like only using some writing assistant program when I was just starting out and not doing the exercises to get better. Sure, they were useful and could even write stories with simple prompts that any child could enjoy, but they could never tell the stories I saw in my head. If I had relied only on that then I’d never have sold my first story so soon after finishing my studies.
Still, I wasn’t about to not accept the help that the system offered, that would be just as dumb. I would use it as a framework, something to build my own skills around, not let it dictate what I would know. So I paid attention to what I was doing with the skinning. It wasn’t as clumsy as the birds I had first butchered, but I only got the main piece from the belly and chest of my kill. It was a fair bit of hide, dripping. My instincts told me what I needed to do next with it to make it useful but I sensed that there was a lot more to know about the craft. Something that either a skill or someone to teach me would help me out with. Out here I only had the skills and a rough idea born from playing games.
By the time I’d harvested some of the hide and as much meat as I could carry it was time to get back to my camp. I didn’t want to leave a body that was sure to attract other meat eaters close to where I planned to sleep. I wasn’t sure if it was part of my Survival levels or just common sense picked up over the years that told me that, but I wouldn’t question it.
Once I started roasting the meat I turned to the work of cleaning the hide as best I could. I knew I wasn’t skilled enough to make clothing from this but even without a specific skill for it I could take my rope talents and use them to craft a better bag than just the sling from this hide. I needed to roast and store more meat so I didn’t need to hunt every day while I hoped to find civilization. As I worked I found myself swirling some of the congealed blood on the end of a stick and poking it at the side of the rock I had the hide upon. What I really wanted to do was write, so I started with my name… Aness Ramjack Tellathu. Family names on either end with my personal name in the middle. Just seeing it there gave me a measure of calm I had not felt since I found myself on this world.
The blood was not a great medium, at least what little had been left on the hide by this point, so I stirred the fire ash for more. ‘I am from another world’ I wrote under the name. Neat letters formed from practice thanks to my writing studies. I don’t know if anyone would ever find this or recognize it as writing. For now, it was just for me. A way to mark that I was here.
With that done I sat back on my legs, feeling a keen sense of relief. Something more than surviving. I closed my eyes, just relaxing with the scent of roasting meat in my nose. I took in the sounds of birds in the trees; Of small creatures in the brush; Even of something splashing in the water. None of it felt threatening. It all seemed like potential food if I needed more to eat. I didn’t need to be afraid. And yet, the longer I sat there the more I felt like I was being watched.
My eyes snapped open. Peering around the shadowed forest, lit now only by the flickers of my fire, I tried to figure out where that feeling was coming from. But nothing seemed to be there. I had hoped, that just for a moment, the fire would attract the attention of other people. That perhaps a person was watching me, but none spoke or showed themselves.
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That night another of those level up dreams came but this one seemed different. I was used to easy choices, of objects shown to me that would give me a new skill or class that I could understand better after the first. But this…
I was in the woods, standing by my fire. My belly was full and I was content but that feeling of being watched was more intense. I flicked my eyes around, gazing into the same dark forest that had met me in the waking world. This time though, across the stream I had been following I saw what seemed to be a trail. I could easily leap over the water and start following but it was not the only thing I saw.
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On the rock where I had written my name I saw a new message, ‘Write your story’. I shivered, reaching out to the rock, to the message. “How?” I asked out loud. Letters arranged themselves, forming new words across the rock.
‘Record and understand’ Which seemed just as unhelpful as I read them.
‘[Chronicler] Level 1, [Status Writing] gained’ whispered through my brain as I fell into a deeper sleep.
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The moment I woke, not far from my smoldering fire, I wanted to write again. There was no more blood to use but I had an even better idea. Using a stick near my camp site I poked at the ash. Something from my study of writing classes reminded me that in ancient times, common on many worlds, ash from fire was used for early writing. Often it was simple drawings but it was a start to the process in so many cultures across the known universe.
Under my name I started writing, Level 5 [Survival], Level 1 [Hunter], Level 1 [Chronicler]. I hadn’t even remembered just what I had already gained until I wrote it out. It was like it stayed buried in the back of my brain until my hand got involved. Not unlike some of the stories I had written at my desk. The details flowing free as soon as typing got involved.
While I couldn’t bring the rock with me I felt better now that I had gained a class more in line with my actual skill set. It just felt so much more normal than trusting my new instincts. Not that the instincts had lead me astray yet. I had a new sling made of thicker material than my old. I had rope, a bow, even some arrows. And I knew that I needed to continue to follow the water’s flow.
Making sure to pour what water I could on the fire pit and smother it with dirt I continued on my way. I wasn’t hungry, the horned creature I’d killed being even more satisfying than the birds. I wasn’t thirsty thanks to water and fruit. I could spend the day walking rather than hunting.
As it turned out it was another two days, just as I was back to hunting birds, when I picked up the scent of something new. The smell of a different kind of creature mixed with something earthy that I could not identify. It was close enough to the stream that I didn’t need to lose my path to get closer to it. And when I did I heard something new as well. Voices. It wasn’t like the chirping and cawing of the birds or even the soft squeaks of the small creatures in the brush. It was the sort of rhythm one heard from another person, though in no language I could understand. It was more harsh to my ears, like electronic feedback only from a living throat.
People! I didn’t know if they were hostile, or if they would freak out at the sight of me, but after being on my own for days I felt I had to risk it. “Hello!” I called out, hearing the voices stop for a moment. I did get a reply, something sharp and as loud as I had called. I didn’t think the speaker understood me either, but I hoped it was more ‘hello’ or ‘who are you’ than ‘stop right there’.
Keeping my bow slung over my shoulder and my hands free I slowed my approach and found myself on the first real path I had seen outside of dreams. There was what I assumed to be a cart sitting there, one wheel broken and either being repaired or replaced. Standing by it, watching me emerge from the forest were two figures. Not any race I had ever seen or studied before. Like me they had two arms and two legs, eyes-nose-mouth in the same pattern with a head at the top. But they were hairless with rough skin that I thought might be scales of some kind. Blue/gray in color. They were smaller than me, their heads coming up to my chest with shorter snouts.
Attached to the cart, currently idle, was a large creature with short fur and small horns. It was munching on some of the short plants that were growing up along the path. It only glanced at me, one ear flicking, but doing nothing but chewing besides that. The two odd people looked me up and down, one talking in that rough language while the other, backing up slightly, seemed to switch to another. It was much lighter in tone, but still not one I understood. I really only spoke Vazack and Alliance Standard.
Since they hadn’t instantly pulled out weapons and attacked me I reasoned they were friendly enough. Hoping I would be able to make a universal offering I pulled free two things from my sling. A cooked bit of bird meat that I hoped was still edible and one of the yellow spiny fruit I had collected. I offered both to the people before me.
They looked at each other and conferred in their own tongue before one carefully reached out for the offerings. It sniffed the meat carefully before biting down. Chewing, it tore the rest of the meat in half and offered it over to its companion as it carried the fruit to the back of the cart.
I took this as a sign to approach further. I gazed down at the broken wheel, and though I knew nothing of how to fix it, I could provide aid without being able to understand what they said. I helped lift up the side to keep it balanced as the two of them worked to put on a new wheel. Thanks to gestures after the work was done I felt like I was being allowed to ride in the back of the cart. It was mostly crowded with bags and barrels but after all the walking I had been doing the last week or so it felt like a luxury.
I closed my eyes, leaning back against the bags full of lumpy objects that smelled earthy. My legs ached, more so than the nights by the fire. Maybe it was from the relief of going somewhere without the need to walk any more. I even fell asleep, maybe not the smartest thing to do with so much still unknown about the people I was with, but I did wake up unharmed when we finally stopped. The sun was going down, but this time I could see the sky properly. I was out of the woods at last! And there was more noise, more smells. I could smell metal, smoke, and other animals.
Sitting up from the back of the cart I cast my gaze around me, seeing a much more wide open expanse of land. There were people, not just like the two I was traveling with, but other beings. Some had fur like me, others scales, and some feathered or with coverings I could not identify. Of the creatures walking past the now stopped cart there were only two I could recognize right off as compatible Alliance beings. One was a Talloni, a fur covered fellow biped with hoofed feet, long snouts, and herbaceous appetites. While still new to the Alliance they had quickly adapted and assimilated into many compatible worlds, including my own. There had been a Talloni girl at my school growing up.
The other recognizable species was a human. Taller than my rescuers but not as tall as me. He was close by the cart with light skin and a very flat face. Humans were strange like that. I’d never seen one in person before, just in simulations but they had some of the flattest faces in the known universe, even for beings that could look so close to my own kind with two arms, legs, eyes and the like.
One of my two companions came around from the side of the cart and spoke at me in their strange tongue again. I stood up, hoping that I was getting the gist of it, and followed them to a large burly creature that looked a bit like the animal that was pulling the cart, only biped with hands. It was actually a bit taller then me, causing me to look up. In its hand was some kind of notepad and a writing implement. It spoke at me too but I couldn’t understand and said so, trying for Alliance Standard.
The creature shook its head, snorting, and called over its shoulder. A human stepped forward with some kind of orb in hand. It reminded me of an interface projector I had seen at a friend’s house but it didn’t project anything. Instead the human stared into it, moving something with fingers and looked me as the horned being continued to talk at me.
“Can you understand me now?” It asked after a minute of this, causing me to jump.
“Oh! Yes! Yes I can! Is that a translator?”
They both looked me me dumbly for a comment as the human muttered something under her breath that I didn’t quite catch.
“Name and reason for visit?” The horned one asked, sounding bored.
“Uh, Aness Ramjack Tellathu. I go by Ramjack and well, I don’t know where I am. I just needed to get out of the woods and these two,” I gestured at the cart operators, “Helped give me a ride.”
The horned being, that I figured was some kind of immigration or gate guard, sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We don’t take kindly to people sleeping on the streets inside the gates sir… so if you are some kind of vagrant..”
I felt slightly offended until I realized that I did not have any local money and as far as I knew had nothing to trade with. I had been sleeping outdoors, and my clothing was pretty rough.
“Efric, be nice to the boy. He’s clearly lost and far from home. Lemet and I will keep an eye on him and find him some work. Seems he can at least kill chickens and the like.” This was coming from one of my new companions, who patted my hand while looking at the horned guy in front of me.
He snorted and shook his head, writing down a few more notes. “Good luck with that once he is out of range you won’t be able to understand him.” Efric, the gate guard, did not seem to like me. Maybe I wasn’t the first weirdo who had left the woods in such a state?
“I’m sure we can find a way around it. He’s a nice boy, helped us with our wagon and even gave us food without knowing us.”
I looked down at the scaly person who was vouching for me. “Thank you so much, and I don’t even know your name.”
“Oh I’m Hestern, and this is my husband, Lemet.” They gestured at the other driver. Hestern had been the one to take the food from me in the first place I’m pretty sure. They looked almost the same to me though I think Hestern was slightly more blue than Lemet which let me tell them apart. “And don’t worry about Efric there. He just feels like it is his duty alone to keep Dacathus safe. He takes his record keeping duties very seriously.”
We were being waved on in through the gate, the horned guy, Efric, still watching me. “Dacathus, that is this city?”
“Oh yes. It is home. We don’t have a big place and it will be very cramped with a big guy like you but I figure as long as you can help us with the unloading and all you’re welcome to stay a few days till you know your way around.”
“Thank you.” I ended up saying that several times, with Hestern nodding but after we got inside the gates I realized I couldn’t understand them any more. This was going to be a brand new challenge for me.
