I felt the immediate hold of my ire. Much like it had for most of my life, the emotion blossomed inside my body, making me hot and uncomfortable. However, unlike any other instance, this time it was as though it came all the way out of me. As the angry roar erupted from my vocal cords, the warmth previously relegated to its cage within my skin, muscle, and bones was now outside my flesh.

It felt fucking fabulous.

My fury was a shield protecting me. My agony dulled, and I suddenly didn’t care that I was in pain or outnumbered or trapped in some strange world of dubiously gamified quality. No, now I was a beast of pure and unadulterated wrath, and this was my home turf.

I felt everything. The breeze, the rain, the rumble of the thunder beneath my feet from a far-away bellow--all of it was within my domain--but the fact of the matter was... I just didn’t care. My every thought was consumed by the maddening frenzy seeping out of every pore in my body.

I looked into Smiler’s eyes and a sense of elation washed over me. I wanted to kill this dumb asshole. Every fiber of my being was enveloped in an unquenchable bloodthirst, and I knew the only way I would be sated would be to tear his limbs from his body and drink his blood.

Even now, that idea--while super fucked up--didn’t bother me one bit. I smiled back at him and saw a slip of his confidence faltering as his eyes flashed with confusion at my smug return.

Then I headbutted him in the face.

Congratulations! You have gained a new Skill!

Unarmed Fighting (F-Rank Level 1)

You have learned that oftentimes, a well-placed fist or kick can do wonders for your self-esteem and give you the upper hand. This is a Strength-based Skill and will become more powerful as you grow in that Attribute. The outcome for efficiency is Unarmed Fighting Skill + Strength quotient. Go forth and elbow, Adventurer!

I watched him reel back in pain, and while it had hurt me too, I delighted in the sensation. I hardly noticed the new message, but that was alright. I cared very little whether or not my vision was obstructed right now. It was all flailing, ripping, and tearing at this point anyway.

I didn’t wait for him to react further, I tightened my grip on the hatchet handle in my hands--I’d almost forgotten I still had it as all of this had gone down--and shifting it like a dagger--slammed the end as hard as I could into the side of the rat-man’s head. I watched with venomous glee as he lost his balance and fell backward.

I felt the wind pressure change next to me, and I dropped low as a blade whipped over my head. I shot a look at the rat-man attached to it. Gray Muzzle. He’d tried to go for a sneak attack, but I’d felt it coming. His stance was wide, and his reach seemed a bit too far beyond his capabilities as well. Not really thinking about it, I snatched at the ground where I’d left the discarded pieces of broken hatchet blade. The first morsel of sharp metal that my fingers grazed against I palmed.

Then, I did what I always did when it seemed a fight needed a level playing field: I shot a foot out right between Gray Muzzle’s legs and kicked as hard as I could. Apparently, rat anatomy was very similar to a human’s.

His eyes opened wide as my strike literally and figuratively rang his bells, and in a flash, I jammed the shrapnel into the unprotected and extended arm of my assailant. I ripped it down towards his arm pit with all the strength I could manage. I was absently aware of the fact that the other side of the broken metal had pushed its way through the webbing in my finger with the attack, but I didn’t mind--as long as it hurt him more. I heard a screech of pain from my sword-swingin’ buddy with the new elongated puncture wound, but I didn’t wait. I blasted my shoulder into his chest, forcing him to topple backward. He hit the ground with a thud and I spun in place and watched as an arrow sprouted from my collarbone.

One of the smarter rat-men--Small Fry--had decided it would be safer to keep his distance and fire his bow from afar. I quickly broke the shaft off, letting the arrowhead remain in my skin and whipped the hatchet's handle his way. I watched as he dived out of the way and my attack sailed uselessly overhead.

Oh well.

The fourth creature--Deep Voice--was now rushing at me with a spear, but I didn’t have time to think. I was all instinct. I dove out of the way and as he passed and stabbed the point of the metal shard into the side of his knee, driving him to the ground. He lost his grip on the weapon. I snatched the spear from the ground where he dropped it and leapt to my feet.

Smiler was still holding his head but was standing now. I guffawed and launched the spear at him, watching as it stuck right into his foot. He screamed out in pain, no longer smiling.

I wanted destruction. I needed to make them suffer for thinking they could just come along and jump me.

“More,” I heard myself say, and somewhere in the back of my mind, mused as to how my voice sounded like an awful, feral growl.

Good.

I spotted the guy whose arm I’d ripped open trying desperately to uncork a burnished-colored bottle of something with his sharp teeth--and doing a terrible job of it. His hands--er--paws were shaking as he frantically tugged at the stopper in his mouth.

Let me help you with that, I thought to myself, and launched forward, snatching the bottle out of Gray Muzzle’s grasp. I allowed a wild and hoarse laugh to escape my lips at the rat-man’s horrified expression and then, still staring at him, smashed the bottle against my face. A warm liquid seeped past my cut lips and into my mouth. I let the contents drain down into my stomach and belched. Most of the drink had ended up on my face, chest, and hair, but the little bit that had found itself inside me was… odd.

“Oh…” I said. I strangely felt both better and worse. The tunnel vision I had been experiencing began to fade, and now I could see my Health bar again. I recalled having seen it drop to negative six during the skirmish, but now it shot up a little less than a quarter way to full.

22/ 140 Health remaining!

Condition: Bleeding

Will continue to lose Health while suffering from this effect at a rate of 1 per 10 seconds.

A… health potion?

I couldn’t believe I’d accidentally healed myself while trying to do something intimidating. Well… nevermind, yes I could. It wouldn’t surprise anyone to know that I was king of unintended consequences, especially from the idiotic actions I’d participated in so far in my life. But it seemed that whatever had been inside that potion had also knocked me out of my Primal Rage.

“Fuck,” I said, my senses returning to normal. I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at the three combatants who were not bleeding out on the ground in front of me. They were all standing now, and racing toward me. I was also fully aware of every ache, pain, and cut I’d been subjected to in this short fight.

Screw this.

I turned on my heel and ran.

But, I didn’t get very far because my boot got caught in a tree root and I fell flat on my face. My nose smashed the ground hard, and I heard it crack. The earth was now soggy from the rain, and mud had splattered all over me. I twisted, yanking my leg out of the slick earthen trap just as the three foes reached me. I didn’t know what to do. Smiler was grinning again and had his blade out, ready to attack. I felt my vision soften, and suddenly, as if in slow motion, I saw something strange appear.

The group rushing me slowed to a fraction of their normal speed as a little icon appeared above Smiler’s chest. Well, to be more accurate, it materialized just above the fastening buckle of the leather strap slung across his torso. The symbol resembled a cartoonish depiction of a mushroom cloud, but I wasn’t concerned with that at the moment.

I focused. I could see that the material of the strap was frayed three-fourths of the way through on one side, and it was straining to keep whatever was in his backpack aloft.

I felt the chunk of metal in my hand, and acting quickly, slashed at Smiler’s chest, right at the fraying leather. With a ripping sound, the strap separated and the pack he’d been lugging behind him zipped forward, following the direction of the previous strain. It caught Smiler between the legs as it fell, tangling him up and forcing him to swing wide in his fall. The weapon’s sharp blade caught the rat-man to his right in the face.

He dead, I thought.

Deep Voice dropped to the sopping dirt in a spout of blood where he lay unmoving. I took the opportunity to slide backward in the mud a few feet and pull myself up as quickly as I could.

Just at that moment, Smiler looked down at his pack urgently. He seemed terrified of something within it. Odd. Small Fry was still moving forward and couldn’t stop in time. But he tried. He slid on the wet ground and bowled over Smiler, landing right on top of the bag.

“THE FIRE BO--” Smiler screamed.

But, whatever he had been about to finish that sentence with was lost because of a massive explosion. The group of three rat-men were suddenly replaced by an eruption of flame and deafening sound. The force blasted me backward and I shouted from the intense pain of the flames. Luckily, I’d been just far enough away that the vast majority of the inferno seemed to miss me.

I landed on my back a few feet from the blaze, and I tried to turn over to view the damage.

Everything was on fire. The grass, the trees--hell, even some of the rocks were blazing it up. Four glowing green lights hovered in the air above the makeshift battlefield, and I observed them hesitantly.

Were they souls? Did it work like that? I decided I might question them later, maybe make fun of them for being shitty ghosts and force them to watch me eating their rations.

I could see three charred corpses where the rat-men had once been and felt a sick sensation in my stomach. All of the bodies were on fire, and I could smell the sickening stench of burned flesh and hair.

“That’s super fucking gross,” I said, and looked away from the smoldering specters. “I sent them right to rat hell.”

Then, I got a notification.

Congratulations! You’ve raised an Ability!

Sabotage has advanced to F-Rank Level 3!

“What?” I said.

When had I gotten that Ability? I didn’t recall it being a part of the class or racial bonuses. Still, I supposed it might’ve slipped in at some point since I hadn’t been the most mindful creature during my initial foray into this bizarre and incomprehensible world. Also, how had I raised it? Was that part of the little notification I got just before I was nearly made into orc-filet?

Was it me who killed them?

I couldn’t contemplate the turn of events further as I was interrupted by another banner appearing.

You have killed [4] Level 6 Grelok Scouts

Gained 1,200 Experience.

Congratulations! You have reached LEVEL TWO.

You grow stronger and receive the benefit of [3] additional Attribute Points. 10% Health and Arcana restored. Combat conditions healed.

Congratulations! You have gained a new Ability!

Natural Resilience [F-Rank Level 1]

As Barbarians are more inclined to the outer workings of the world, it is within their domain to receive more than the usual trove of forces acting against their best interest. You show marked deterring to some of Mother Nature’s most curious affronts. This Ability will continue to offer rewards as it is nourished.

+2% Resistance to Insects

+2% Resistance to Weather Conditions [Cold]

“Hm,” I grunted, thinking it was odd that it declared I’d killed all four. “How has that happened? And what in the barf am I supposed to be able to resist bug bites for? It’s cold out.”

I struggled to my feet. My whole body hurt and despite having just been informed that I’d regained some Health and… Arcana, I noticed my wounds were still there. Most of them were now lightly scabbing over--apparently, I wasn’t suffering from ‘Bleeding’ anymore--but of particular annoyance was the arrowhead still buried halfway into my collarbone. I reached up and dug into my skin, extracting the sharp piece of metal with a grimace.

“God damn, that smarts!” I said and tossed the arrowhead on the ground. I looked around at the carnage that surrounded me and smirked.

“Now that’s how you make an entrance!” I shouted to no one. The fire was still burning the grass and, well, everything really. Even despite the rain now coming down in droves, the flames danced menacingly as if they were proud of what they’d just done.

“Good job, little burn-y buddies,” I said approvingly. “Did he have a fucking stick of dynamite in there or something? That was a world-class boom.”

I looked over the scene and found Gray Muzzle, laying in a pool of mud and blood. It appeared he was unable to stop the weeping of his wounds and had bled to death.

“Nasty way to go,” I muttered, and realized that there was perhaps a silver lining to this extravaganza of chaos I’d been an unwilling participant of. I had remembered an aspect of games that I was always fond of: looting.

I glanced back at the three barbecued rat kabobs. Most of their belongings--including their weapons--were either charred beyond recognition or had fused to their bodies in the blaze. At least, so far as I could tell. I shrugged.

Probably not much there to pilfer. However…

I approached the corpse of the rat-man I’d sliced open like a Capri Sun that I couldn’t get the straw into and saw that he had a pack slung over his shoulder.

“Don’t mind me,” I said to Gray Muzzle’s body and jerked the bag off of his slight frame. It was a lot nicer-looking than the one I’d been bequeathed at my arrival.

“Primo knapsack, my dude,” I said appreciatively and opened up the flap at the top. Inside were myriad different items and my eyes lit up as I saw a bulging pouch at the top. Coins!

I quickly uncinched the string and pulled it open, immediately recoiling in horror. Not coins!

“What the fuck?!” I exclaimed and dropped the pouch into the mud. Several squishy, bloody pieces of mottled gray flesh toppled out into a puddle. Ears.

“You’re disgusting, dude,” I said to the rat-man’s cold form and looked back inside the pack. It was mostly camping gear--a dented pot with burned food still caked on the inside, a blanket, a rain poncho and a change of clothes. I scowled at this and sighed. Beneath this stuff were a few empty bottles--probably other healing potions he’d already consumed, and a few crumbs from what appeared to be extremely moldy bread.

At the bottom, I spotted a leather envelope wedged inside a folded pocket, and I gingerly lifted it up. It had some weight to it, and I carefully unsealed the edge, hoping against hope that it wasn’t whatever had blown up the other guys.

The last thing I need is to accidentally pop open a package filled with no-no powder.

But it wasn’t a combustive instrument of untimely demise. In fact, it didn’t look dangerous at all. I stood staring at a sleeve of playing cards.

I picked them up and examined the details. There were three cards, each with the same symbol painted on the back: a curled abstract silver stave of some kind with an umbrella-style hook at the bottom and two “arms” near that. An illustration of a glowing red stone sat next to the glyph that almost resembled an eye. I didn’t recognize it at all.

Must be something that only makes sense here.

I flipped the cards over and was delighted to find that each had a wonderfully illustrated face, with different depictions of what appeared to be scenes of battle, or strong warriors activating magical powers. The borders around the pictures were different colors; red, blue, and white, and in the margins of each side were tally marks, one group for each direction. The lowest I saw was four and the highest being nine. Then I realized that wasn’t exactly true. One card, showing a glowering volcano with a halo of light around its tip had a small crown along its top edge in place of tallies. That seemed like an important distinction.

“Is this some sort of card game?” I asked aloud. It definitely reminded me of a few I’d seen back home, though this was a bit less… manufactured-looking than the type I was used to.

I decided right at that moment wasn’t the best time to look these over, and instead, stuffed the envelope of cards into my pack.

Not far from his body, ole Stab Wound here had dropped the blade he’d attempted to skewer me with. I glanced down at the rusty knife as my Analysis took over.

Paring Dagger

Rarity: Pedestrian

Item Class: Tool / Simple One-handed Short Blade

Durability: 20/50

Damage: 3 - 5 Piercing / 2 - 3 Slashing

Bonuses: N/A

A simple short-bladed blade used for peeling, skinning, dicing and intricate cutting in food preparation. Using this as a weapon would be better than nothing, right?

I examined the blade. The display was right, it was better than a broken hatchet, though I did like the idea of being able to hurl a handax willy nilly. This dagger looked like it might break even easier than my previous weapon if I attempted to toss it.

I moved on to Gray Muzzle’s shabby clothes. He was wearing leathers that would be much too small for someone my size, so I left those alone. However, I did snag another pouch from his belt and, hoping for less organic contents, opened it to find a few copper coins. Six, to be exact.

“Slim pickens,” I said. “You guys should have chosen a more gainful form of employment.”

He also had a couple of tarnished metal rings, which I removed and put into the coin purse since they were much too small for me. I was able to find another bottle of what I confirmed to be a sort of healing potion tied into his belt at the back, after moving his blood-slick body to the side.

Minor Potion of Rejuvenation

Rarity: Uncommon

Item Class: Healing

Durability: 1/1

Weight: 1.5 lbs.

Effect: +10% of Max Health Regeneration and Cure Minor Wounds

I didn’t bother reading the rest of the description—mostly because I knew it would be something snarky that would just get me all hot under the collar. Instead, I ripped the cork out of the top and glugged it down. The effect was immediate, and I watched as my Health bar filled up a bit more. Then I watched as my bruises began to fade, and some of the cuts and punctures scabbed over. It was quite a shock to the system to understand the sensation of instant healing.

“Oh, that’s what I like to see!” I exclaimed and excitedly grabbed my formerly broken nose.

“Ah, fuck!” I shouted as pain gripped me in its intense and unapologetic vice. Apparently, shattered noses did not fall under the category of ‘minor wounds.’ The feeling was dizzying, but I was able to remain standing as I wiped tears from my eyes and tried to focus on my original plan: ransacking the rat-man.

The only other thing I found on Gray Muzzle’s person was a battered piece of parchment that was tucked into his glove. I removed it and discovered a tidy scrawl of script inside.

Bounty Request:

Willing to pay top-dollar for the acquisition of intact False Goblin ears for my research. I know of several enclaves of the brutes near Orikton Mills in the Aglands. Please find me at Yosper Hall in Tallrock for payment. The more ears, the better.

Reward: 1 Kingdom Silver per False Goblin ear.

Edwig Quintham, M.O.

“Woah,” I muttered and looked back at the pouch in the mud with the gray ears spilling out of it. “I may have just had a windfall of cash.” Could those be false goblin ears in there? What were the odds?

Another damnable banner appeared in the air.

You have been offered a Quest!

[Bounty Quest] The Easy Part

Edwig Quintham requests False Goblin ears be returned to him in Tallrock for payment in Kingdom silver. Fortunately, you have been the beneficiary of a treasure trove of the stuff.

Reward: Experience. Coin.

Bonus Reward: Unknown

Accept?

Yes / No

I smiled. I’d seen Quests mentioned in some of the notifications, but I wasn’t sure how to access them--and now it seemed like I’d just stumbled across one. I mentally selected ‘yes,’ and the banner disappeared. I turned to eye the sack of ears again and shuddered.

Don’t think I will be counting those.

That’s something best left to the… professional? Though, why someone would want a bunch of monster ears was a wonder to me. However, it did open up some interesting possibilities. The term false goblins suggested the existence of regular, or I supposed, true goblins--an exciting prospect. That meant that this world was absolutely of the fantasy-variety. You know, if the armor, swords, and strange abilities hadn’t tipped me off already.

“Well, I suppose as long as I’m here, I can make the best of it,” I said, and stood up to get my bearings.

I walked around the tiny area that was the ultimate result of my travels so far and sighed. My body still burned, but I was at least better off than I had been a few minutes ago in the health department. As far as I could tell, I was at the top of some hill, with many taller earthen mounds surrounding my spot. It was actually charming, if I did say so myself. It was peaceful and quiet--now that I’d dealt with the riff-raff--and the rain had even let up a little. Not much, but… a bit.

I went to the edge of the open space where the area met the treeline, and tried to peer into the depths of the woods. It was not as dense as I’d thought, though the rain made it a little harder to get a good peep into the trees. I could tell, though, that I was at the edge of whatever hill I was on top of. The earth sloped down, as did the trunks of the trees, disappearing after a few meters into the abyss of the… dirt horizon? I wasn’t one-hundred-percent sure what some terms actually were, but I’d made due so far in life without the information, so I wasn’t about to start learning things now.

I found a meandering path through the trees that looked quite overgrown and disused and watched as it too disappeared over the downward slope. I looked back behind me at the mess and carnage I’d exacted just a short while ago and chuckled.

“I should probably get out of here before any actual challenge comes along.”

If those guys were scouts, it likely wouldn’t be long before their rat-bastard companions showed up, and I had no delusions about where I’d end up in that fight given my current detriment of both health and levels. Fortunately, whatever this… Sabotage Ability was had saved my orcish ass in my moment of need, but I couldn’t hope that I’d get so lucky next time. Plus--a large part of why I’d lasted long enough to even pull off a hail mary maneuver like that was because of my Primal Rage, and that--I remembered, strangely--was only good for a ride once a day. That meant I’d need to make it until at least morning before being able to bust some skulls like that again. I couldn’t tell what time of day it was because of the rain, but it couldn’t have been too far away from evening based on the encroaching darkness.

Better get to steppin’, then.

I took one final look around the clearing, mostly to make sure I hadn’t missed some other tool of potential wealth like the note and saw a notification blinking in my vision again. I unfocused my eyes and let the psychic muscles access the message. A banner appeared, repeating the same announcement four times in a row.

For defeating an opponent more than FIVE levels above your own, you have received an Emerald Esper Node!

For defeating an opponent more than FIVE levels above your own, you have received an Emerald Esper Node!

For defeating an opponent more than FIVE levels above your own, you have received an Emerald Esper Node!

For defeating an opponent more than FIVE levels above your own, you have received an Emerald Esper Node!

Accept [4] Esper Nodes?

Yes / No

“Why the hell not?” I wondered aloud, selecting in the affirmative.

Instantly, the four hovering green lights began to glitter and sparkle and shot out of the sky where they’d been slowly levitating, rocketing at me before I had time to react. They hit my body, and my physical form seemed to absorb them in some fashion. There was a quick flash of green light around me, and then… nothing.

“Well, that was... boring,” I said. I wasn’t sure what I should have expected, as it wasn’t exactly strange to have something like that in a video game. So far, everything tracked just about how I’d expect it to, but no one could blame me for demanding a bit more dramatic flair in this instance.

I turned back to the trail, slung my pack over my shoulder, and began a slow pace into the sopping wet leaves of the woods at the edge of the hill.

“On to see if I can find whatever the hell Tallrock is!”