-f course, then there was the incident with the hippie camp in the Washington State Forest. Oh, don't even get me started on that. The smell, the annoying clash of fifty radios all playing different songs while unshaved college drop-outs played their own idiotic drunken laments in dust covered tents. Disgusting.

Hmm, oh, the thought-to-text option came on somehow...that's weird, but whatever.

Apologies, I was just one-sidedly chatting with Mr. Boots. For whatever reason my system opened up a new tab. Regardless, now is a good time to continue on with my di-journal. Ahem.

It seems that we're finally almost out of this tunnel.

I only really remember flashes of that adreneline (well...I don't exactly have the capabilities for chemical manufacturing..) fueled nightmare dash but saaaafe to say that was horrifying. The thing with the teeth and then the frekin' spiders and GIANT TENTACLE THING a few rooms back have seriously damaged my psyche.

Honestly? I kind of miss my little dark tunnel. If this is the type of thing I'm going to have to deal with on a regular basis, can Mr. Boots just wipe me off on the doormat of a library?

This is ridiculous! I get reincarnated as L.I.T.E.R.A.L. dust and everything else I've seen is some kind of demon straight out of a hellish drug trip? I'm crying foul, order in the court, WHY? I beeeeeetter get some kind of mega-cheat out of this down the road or I'm going to be pissed.

Mentally sighing, I focus on Mr. Boots-only just now realizing the irony of my naming choice- and see him jogging up a long tunnel. I say long, though I suppose I should put an extremely before that. We've been on this same slight incline with no turns for almost ten minutes.

However! There's always a light at the end of the tunnel...well, except at night or in caves. Wait...is a cave just one long tunnel, or many tunnels connected? Regardless, I can see the light!

Not dying-wise, but in a more literal sense. Mr. Boots has ceased his run-jog shenanigans and stopped for a moment to lean against the side of the cave and catch his breath.

Granted, I already have pretty decent "vision" but there's something about that bit in front of us that seems...different. It's like there's more of something in the air, giving it a type of energy that the tunnels lack.

Thus, I'm going to assume that this is light. Mr. Boots straightens himself out and briefly pats various...things off of himself. An eyeball being one of them, grossly enough. At least I won't have to look at it anymore.

Taking a final look back, my trusty steed takes the final step into the light, and I get a wonderful look at--

Congratulations! Inadvertantly, you have survived at least thirty-six separate events that should have killed you! Throughout the various moments of screaming and panicking like a baby squirrel, you have chosen to auto-populate all skill and stat allocations.

You have learned;

Basic Wind Proficiency. - A miniscule attunement to Wind related magics, auras, martial arts, and meditations.

Spark - A basic Fire spell used by primitive sentients to light kindling.

You have updated your stats!

Strength + 1

Endurance + 30

Intelligence +34

Title(s) Earned!

Explorer - You have journeyed far, leaving your home to find different lands. Will you ever return, or shall you never again see the place of your birth? Only time shall tell. ( + 1 Fame. )

Ooookay, that's a lot. Also, I'm pretty sure I'm in an excruciating amount of pain, but I also don't have the necessary nervous system to feel said pain. A strange thing to be sure, but worthy of note nonetheless.

Mr. Boots has begun walking down a wide path or road, and after a while I begin to see various people flitting into and out of my range of vision.

Most of them are wearing armor, not really any modern clothes to be seen. I had figured with the magic, monster, swords and shields thing that this was a fantasy world...but c'mon man, really? I was hoping for steampunk or sci-fi to be completely honest..Oh well, a second chance at life is worth nightmares every time I sleep.

After speaking with a few men that looked suspiciously like ogres, Mr. Boots was handed three silver coins and told to "Be on his way".

I wasn't entirely paying attention, but it has something to do with the fact that his companions died, and he's been able to confirm their deaths. Probably an incentive to be forthcoming about it so the family can have some closure.

I wonder if someone's ever survived instead....would they have to give back the coin?

Caught in....hmmmmmm. Gimme a second here....clllliiiiick this. Ha, nice. Aaalrighty, back up to that last line, then the one below this one.

I wonder if anyone's ever survived instead....would they have to give back the coin?

I'm going to start editing these so that the *ahem* italicized words are my...speaky thoughts, and normal words are my thoughty thoughts. Wait...heh. Aaaanyway, back to the story, nooooow.......where the Hell are we at....?

I'm currently under a table at what I would assume is either a bar or restaurant. Wait...bars aren't really a medievel thing....so, tavern?

Tangents aside, within my range of sight, I could see plain wooden boards that seem decently aged along with wall of thick bricks of some kind covered by dense wooden logs.

Mr. Boots seems to have picked a booth, like a true man always does.

The seats are decently made, though the flats of them were roughly three feet wide, a bit large for most humans so sit entirely comfortably.

Eh, fantasy worlds usually have some decently big races from what I remember of my younger years, so it's probably that big for orcs or minotaurs...or something.

WHY AM I A SPECK OF DUST? HELL, I'LL EVEN BE A SQUID!

Well...yelling at nothing aside, there is /one/ more thing that's extremely noticeable about this room.

That feeling I got from 'seeing' light for the first time, I now recognise as this world's version of 'mana'. Why, you ask? Because this room is absolutely thicc with it. A decent bit is even coming from the booth directly behind us, giving me a pretty decent view of the current occupant..

And, wouldn't you fucking know it, that's definitely a mage. Old man, faded green robes with scarred leather armor over certain areas, and a small tree-branch wand that he's using to stir his drink with tiny gusts of air.

Hold up. I gotta check my status.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, IT'S TIME!

Gathering all my years of stubbornness and boredom together to create one of the largest feats of determination to occur in both my lives, I willed the mana around me to create a burst of wind that would carry me over to the foot of the mage!

Ha, right. What instead happened is that I noticed a veeeery small breeze sliiiightly sway me in his direction. I thought I had imagined it, but theeeen....!

You have earned a Title!: Gifted Mage(r1). Successfully used magic on the first attempt. A small success to you, but a giant hurdle for many. +.75 Mana Control per level, +2.5 Mana Pool per level, +.05 Mana Exp gain per level.

You have unlocked a new Title!: Dual-Affinities. Harnessed the forces of both Earth and Wind Affinities.

You have unlocked a new skill!: Stuck-on-You. Able to more easily cling to any surface by +5%.

You have created a new racial spell!: Dust Gust(r1). A spell so tiny it can only be used by dust. Made by a little spec out of pure will to adventure, all sentient dust particles have been granted this spell as a blessing from the God of Sarcasm, Dementy.

While reading these new prompts, I had been spamming the spell with everything I could, which with my current control was about one mana at a time. That was fine though, as after I realized it wasn't that hard to use the spell even two or the times at once.

After a few seconds, nothing happened. Then Mr. Boots decided to suddenly stomp his foot during a decidedly intense bout of drunken laughter.

Yeah, yeah, he already got his food and has been drinking pretty heavily over the last five minutes. I'm trying to focus on /my/ story right now, so hush.

Coincidentally, this stomp almost perfectly timed itself with my next spell casting. I had finally dislodged myself and once again began spamming...Dust Gust.... I'm just going to call it Gust to save my pride.

Thus, my journey to the leg of the mage began! Except....well, the mage had gotten up and left after Mr. Boots' earlier fit of hysteria.

Life hates me. That was my one chance to grab onto a super strong mage to watch and secretly learn magic from until I become overpowered! Well, then again he was an adventurer...and I'm guessing people clean their shoes around here....eventually.

Actually...maybe it's better to stay in the bar? There's a lot of varying mana here to learn about, and I'm dust so it's not like I can really age-looking at my 'lifespan' status box scares me- or move around to fast.

Thus, I decide to head to the most logical place, above the firepit. I don't exactly see it, but I can feel a lot of...how do I describe this...Imagine the 'feeling' in your mouth after eating a hot pepper and waiting a while. Not pain, or taste, just that weird 'hot' feeling. Well, there's some of that mixed with that light mana from earlier, sooo I'm assuming that's the fireplace.

Well, I'll head over there now. Might as well close down my notes, this seems like it's going to be a hassle.

Maybe I should sing to myself to pass the time?

Then again, there is one thing I'm dying to know but might actually kill me to learn....

Why does of mention the God of Sarcasm in my skill....and what the Hell kind of dumb name is Dementy?

Also, my system always seems to auto-correct Hell to capitals, which concerns me.