《GENERIKA 0FFLINE》That Novice, Trying His Best - Pt. 1
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"NPC-RND-4394! Please come to the front. You're up next."
I shoot upright in my seat and salute the clerk from across the reception room. The 1st Class Trial Dungeon was completely stuffed when I arrived this morning; several hours later, the crowd of aspiring adventurers has thinned out just enough that I can squeeze past everyone by holding my breath.
Sucking in my chest, I fight my way to the front desk. Bigger, badder guys than I'll ever be shoot me dirty looks as I accidentally half-trip over their feet and jab elbows into their sides.
"'Scuse me--pardon me--sorry, coming through!"
If my heart wasn't already racing, their narrowed eyes might do the trick. For better or worse, though, the excitement-anxiety cocktail swirling through me's already beat them to the punch.
"Hello, there." A sparkling service-desk smile lights up the clerk's face when I arrive. "Sorry for the wait. Ready for your test, sir?"
I scratch my cheek with a single finger, a nervous sound bubbling from my throat.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
"Hey, have some confidence! You'll do fine."
Bet she says that to everyone, I think, while the clerk pulls a clipboard from a hook on the wall behind her. If not, she's got more faith in me than I do.
Humming to herself, the clerk flips through the clipboard's contents. The butterflies in my stomach flutter to my throat and tangle there, drying up my mouth and turning my breaths to shallow puffs. Everyone in the room's been sitting here for half a day. A dozen impatient glares drill through my skull, and cold sweat prickles fresh at my hairline.
"No worries," mutters one of the giants I elbowed. "It'll be our turn soon. That li'l shrimp won't last a nanosecond."
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The man's colleagues snicker, just loud enough that I can hear. I prickle with indignation and square my posture. Shrimpy though I might be, I can't give them the satisfaction of intimidating me. I've come too far for a couple thungs to get between me and becoming a [Drifter].
"Your chosen name is... Quinn?"
My thoughts scatter at the clerk's curious voice. I shake my head, grounding myself, then reply with a resolute nod.
"Yeah. That's me."
She slides a pen across the desk, followed by the clipboard.
"Please sign on the dotted lines."
I flip through page after page of legalese. I was told to expect a waiver or three, but the length of these documents has me throwing the clerk a nervous look.
"It's just a formality." She giggles and taps the first line, leaning forward so that the ribbon circling her collar brushes against the paper. "Go on. If it helps any, only twelve people have had to respawn mid-trial. Each time we managed to recover most of their inventory, too."
Just like that, all the blood drains from my face. My eyelid twitches.
The clerk simply continues smiling, of course.
"Twelve, huh...?"
I sign with my system ID and a shaky hand, clearing my throat to conceal my fear. Twelve's no small number.
"I'll be careful not to add a thirteenth to the tally."
"I'm sure you won't. Good luck, Mr. Quinn."
She directs me towards a pair of ornate double doors flanked by two sleepy-eyed guards. If I properly recall, these guys have always been sentries, even during the Heroes' time. I murmur a friendly greeting while the doors swing open before me. No-one replies.
"Okay, then... sheesh."
Somewhat discouraged, I step past the doorway. A long, dark corridor decorated by twinkling crystal lamps and little else surrounds me. I swallow nervously in the shadows. No windows; no warnings; not a single blinking arrow to guide me towards the dungeon proper.
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The doors squeal shut behind me, then latch with an echoing ka-chak.
It's really happening now, huh...
Recalling the others' impatient stares, I move on. The hovering lamps brighten when I pass, chiming and bobbing as if cheering me on. Their glow dyes the smooth marble floor an inviting blue that seems to say, 'You can do this, buddy'.
I straighten my sleeves with one sharp tug apiece. The default newbie 'armour', hardly more than glorified layers of cloth and leather, hang awkwardly from my body. I adjust the heavy mantle and triple-check my bootstraps.
That's right... I can do this. Keep going, Quinn.
As I round my first corner, the dread threatening to overwhelm me starts ebbing away. Perhaps it's the crystals' soft lamplight easing my nerves. Perhaps it's the reliable rhythm of my own footsteps. Perhaps I've grown so anxious that I've crossed the line twice and--I don't know--achieved inner peace.
So long as I pass the [Drifter] exam, I could glitch a second head for all I care.
Onward and onward. I thumb at my belt, reciting the promise I made to myself:
"Someday I'll swap this cheap leather strap with a [Marksman's] holster."
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Exuperius [DISCONTINUED]
Terravest. The northernmost continent of the world known by many names of legend, but is most commonly reffered to as Athora, has, for eons, served as the land of exiles. Human criminals, dark elves, grayskinned orcs and dwarves that preffer mining with machinery over the traditional pickaxe alike, have come to call this half-frozen hellhole their home. It is a land of great strife, calamity and crisis, where one legendary tale ends only to begin the next, heroes fall down and villains find themselves thrown into lava. Around seventy years ago, a legendary figure appeared out of seemingly nowhere and conquered three human nations, forming a kingdom worthy enough of being called a small empire. However, at the eve of his heirs ascension, the legend breathed his last, leaving this same bloated, chaotic realm without the pillar that kept it together. Already, the carrion nobility, still spiteful for being denied their "rightful" place below the sun, rise up and gather at the court, each eager to consolidate their own power in these troubled times. Tempers flare, power is exercised without restraint and no one expects the hedonistic prince to succeed at keeping the realm together. Alas, as is often the case with such tales, not everything seems to be as it might at first appear and the vain lords of the realm may yet come to regret their carrion will. --- The Content Warnings are there for a good reason. ---
8 188Hollow Moon
She doesn't like being told what to do. He knows what’s best for her. She is fiercely independent but he is determined to save her, whether she likes it or not. Del and Nyssa live two very different lives and that’s the way Nyssa likes it. She is beholden to no one so when Del comes knocking on her door, she sends him on his way with a wink and a sarcastic “yeah, right.” When that doesn’t work, she bolts. She just wants to live her normal life; gambling with fairies (the not-so-nice kind), befriending ghouls and painting the future all over the whitewash. No boy is going to get in the way of that. Excerpt: He snagged her wrist gently before she could flounce away, his fingers warm and firm. “You need to come with me, girl,” he said earnestly. “I don't need to do anything.” She was indignant. She knew that sometimes her kind of abilities could be unruly but Nyssa was quite capable of taking care of herself. She’d lived with her abilities since she was thirteen. She’d learned to handle them herself. “It’s dangerous for you to be on your own,” Del said, tightening his grip on her wrist. She pulled her arm from his grip and he let her go. He could force her to go with him, she knew, but he wouldn’t. “I don’t need your help, Superman.” She didn’t look at him. “I’ll be back in a week,” he said, ignoring her protests. “Be ready to leave with me.” He breezed past her, discarding the necklaces he still held on the desk and leaving. Nyssa sighed, watching his back as he disappeared down the street. “Fat chance, Superman.”
8 138New World: The path of an avenger
A world where the fiction turns real, a cruel world with one rule, the survival of the fitness, but how can people that are throw in such world from the lazy and comfortable human modern society be able to survive?A boy with no desires with this society, nothing special about him, will try to live on this new world, because he discovered something that was dormant with him. Something that he couldn't know that exist before, because there was no real danger.The will to live.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------I'm Brazilian, so my English is no good, sorry, please put up with that, and feel free to inform me of any errors that you may come to find
8 73Pretty In Love {Muke}| Polish translation ✔️
- Księżniczki nie mają brzucha wielkości Jupitera, Michael. - Ale moja ma.MPREG! część druga Pretty in punk! okładkę wykonała @CatchLastBreath za co bardzo dziękuję! zgoda: jest! oryginał: @prettybabyluke początek: 24.08.16 koniec: 18.02.2017
8 97Broken Reality
While undergoing his internship in an IT company, William King's life changed when suddenly, a monster appeared knocking on their doors. Discovering the mysterious game like settings, William, together with everyone else, began their survival in this new world where reality and fantasy mingle together...this broken reality.
8 212Battlefront
All he could remember about his past life was burning pain! Beyond that he has no clue what he was?, who he was?, more than anything why the burning pain!?, when he opened his eyes he was lying on a plane grass field. And he heard a voice and then things changed
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