“Hey, look, it’s the brewmaster!” said one of a pair of orcs guarding the northwestern watchtower, tusked maw warping in a wide grin showing too many teeth as it slammed the but of its poleaxe against the pavement, and Eric could almost feel the tension radiating from the pair, as well as from the handful of orcs still funneling inside the tower.

The sound of sporadic gunfire from the crenelated rooftop could be heard, though the source of the panicked excitement couldn’t be seen, thanks to the stone walls bisecting the entire city, serving as the dividing line between occupied territory and the shattered rubble of the no-man’s land, just beyond.

"Get some decent rotgut this time?" Asked the largest of the pair. "That ale piss ain't cutting it today," he warned with a solemn green-skinned visage, pointing a clawed finger at the last handful of stragglers heading inside the tower. "The goddamned elven fuckers are actually launching their ballista at us! First, they sabotage our cannon, then they assassinate our chieftan, and now they pull out siege weaponry out of their Sylvan assholes, and they think we’re going to take this lying down?”

“Hell no!” Roared the second orc. “We’ll take it drunk off our asses, raining lead and death down on all of those little shits!”

His partner nodded, hard eyes glinting with dark satisfaction. “Those fuckers think they have us dead to rights, but those fools won’t know what hit them. They were holding back? So were we!” His lips stretched in a wide, feral grin showing far too many serrated teeth. “Shaman’s just waiting for them to bring out their champions. Then they’ll learn what it means to cross the Vorgot clan!”

Eric smiled and nodded, handing each a cold flagon of ale, a quick darting look showing nothing but empty streets, a sharp contrast to the roar and bustle above. “Because of the massive cannons above, I’m guessing. With turning platform, equilibrator, and a recoil system as close to a howitzer as you’re going to get with black powder explosives, am I right?”

The closest guard nodded. “Damn right. And with our shamans able to guide our cannon balls, we can snipe their most precious champions from half a mile off! Ha! Idiots think we’re limited to short range black powder shotguns? We’re happy to let them pick off weak-ass fools who can’t even level, if it gets their heroes in range of our hidden daggers. Then we slice them open, and feast upon their entrails!”

The second orc, however, was furrowing his brow, now glaring suspiciously at a grinning Eric. “Grot, how the hell does he know about our cannons?”

But if Grot had anything to say, the gaping wound in his throat now spraying blood everywhere choked off any additional commentary as a suddenly wild-eyed Eric roared and plunged his spear into the monster's throat, razor-sharp smith enhanced bronze blasting right through the thin steel plates of the monster’s gorget as if it were tin.

And the second orc's horrified lurch back was a moment's hesitation too long as an instantly summoned glaive wrenched the monster’s own poleaxe off line before plunging into the creature's face, shattering tusks and teeth before ripping completely through the skull, beady pig eyes rolling wildly with the rapture of death as Eric tore his weapon free and burst into the chamber beyond, longer bardiche traded for war blade in the blink of an eye as Eric's vicious polearm, as close to a greatsword as an axe could possibly be, tore into the surprised, milling troops waiting to ascend the stairs.

Cleaving Blow!

Eric roared like a madman, embracing the pure shock and awe of a blitzkrieg assault as he chained weapon feats with Burst of Strength, holding nothing back as his bardiche cleaved through desperately raised musket barrels, limbs, and throats with equal ease, alternating sweeping cuts with vicious windmilling moulinets while confused panicked orcs found themselves in no position to extend their rifles or maneuver, pinned by their fellows as they were butchered like pigs in a slaughterhouse, the air alive with desperate squeals, crimson sprays, and the sickly sweet stench of blood and gore.

Perception check made!

But even in his growing frenzy, embracing Burst of Strength for truly devastating blows that sent disemboweled floes flying into their compatriots before they had a chance to organize and retaliate, helping to facilitate so much glorious slaughter, Eric sensed the press abruptly ebbing as a small handful of focused orcs honed in on him with not one but three muskets raised to fire in unison.

Duck!

Eric spun back, bardiche changed for Dominion-infused heartscale and saber as he crouched behind his shield in the blink of an eye. And if he took any injury beyond staggering a single step, he didn't even feel it, his shield forcing musket barrels high as his saber plunged under the chin of one surprised orc after another, washing his hands and the increasingly panicked humanoids in a shower of blood before sensing the handful of orcs now encircling him, ready to hammer him down with musket barrels in unison, in a maneuver that could very much end him.

So he spun on the heel of his foot and didn’t hesitate to take full advantage of his inhuman Finesse and ever-growing Strength, slipping past one giant brute of an orc while sending the second 600-pound orc cartwheeling back with a hip check as he darted back the way he had come.

But not before tossing a gift behind him, right before hooking the lip of the door frame with his hand as he pivoted a hard left, carried right out of the keep and wasting no time as he madly sprinted back down the road as the confused furious roars of dozens of orcs and the crack of gunfire washed over him.

Eric blinked when he felt something smacking into the back of his helm, right before the surge of his will became the deafening roar of grapeshot shrapnel exploding free of a keg filled with black powder.

Only then did he dare spin back around, gazing at the thick billows of white smoke pouring out of the gaping hole that the doorway had become, chunks of bright red flesh in addition to pieces of several muskets making it seem as if a meat-packing plant had exploded at first glance. But Eric still braced himself for the worst as he dove back in after a nervous hand checked to find that the back of his helmet was still intact, his shield now raised to protect his face, saber held at the ready.

Finesse check made!

And it was all he could do not to slip on the blood-spattered ground strewn with shredded corpses, the brownstone walls and ceiling covered in a crimson patina of gore every bit as much as the floor.

A quick examination made it clear that nearly every orc had been obliterated by the blast, most not even recognizable as anything but bloody smears or pieces of gristle.

And if there were a few hideously maimed creatures shrieking in the rear of the mass of body parts and entrails, Eric almost thought it a mercy to put those maimed wrecks out of their misery with almost surgically precise thrusts of his blade.

Only then did he dare scan the messages now blinking in his mind’s eye.

18 orcs have perished to your soul-bound weapons.

27 Additional orcs have perished due to concussive force & shrapnel projected from black powder ordinance!

Full Potency to skill mastery conversion in effect:

You have successfully chained together Essence abilities and Burst of Strength to overwhelm your foes!

You have temporarily depleted over 30% of your Soul Reserves.

Blade and Shield is now Rank 11!

Burst of Strength is now Rank 13!

Bardiche is now Rank 17!

Demolitions is now Rank 8!

He took a deep breath, forcing himself not to spit out the thick, cloying, coppery taste of blood as he visualized what perhaps he should have before he had bum-rushed the tower. Because for all that he absolutely exhilarated in finally being able to unleash his hate against the abominations that had destroyed his world and nearly killed his sister, weaving together essence, weapon feats, and, for brief heartbeats of time, somehow communing with the ghostly insights of warriors who had fought in countless desperate battles before him while cleaving through his foes, their very life-force catapulting his skill growth beyond anything he could have ever imagined, his goal right now wasn’t perfecting his melee skills.

Today was all about conquest, power, and positioning himself to make an absolute fortune in gold.

If everything went according to plan, he'd be in perfect position to level up his skills in the most ideal of environments in the weeks and months to come. But right now, he was going against monsters well-versed in black powder weapons, effectively wielding shotguns, where a single mistake or his face revealed without his shield's cover could result in death in the blink of an eye. And even the most glorious ascension in skill mastery, so many insights in how best to wield his weapons now blazing through his mind, meant absolutely nothing if he was killed by a single stray bullet.

Like that musket ball that could so easily have ruptured his helmet and spelled his doom, just minutes ago.

He had been damn lucky it hadn’t.

And there was no guarantee that luck wouldn't run out if he didn't start fighting smart, just as well as he did furious.

With those thoughts in mind, when he heard the roar of a fresh handful of orcs racing down the stairs, he didn’t bother racing up to meet them. Instead, he summoned forth a carefully visualized bronze cannon braced in a framework of lizard hide and bone positioned to block off the entire corridor above, save for the slit Eric used to sight his prey, flashing a fierce smile as looks of excitement and bloodlust in the faces of the lead orcs quickly transformed turned to puzzled uncertainty, even fear, as descending orcs forced the closest of their number ever closer to the death awaiting them.

Until the closest pair of beedy eyes widened in sudden horrified understanding of the bulwark before him. "Get back! It's a trap! Get back! It's a—“

The bronze cannon kicked, jolting the entire frame of lizard flesh, bone, and hide as sinews served as all the recoil system his hybrid weapon needed. The stairs ahead were instantly painted in fresh crimson mist as grapeshot shrapnel completely obliterated the swarm of orcs, before ricocheting further up the stairs to confused shouts and screams from the orcs above, the winding stairwell and the bottom floor now filling with thick, white smoke, Eric not hesitating to put a damp cloth over his mouth, promising he'd get himself an emergency gas mask from somewhere, assuming he made it through this night in one piece.

Gunnery skill is now Rank 2!

And then a coughing Eric was ascending once more, his hybrid cannon stored and instantly loaded in less than two seconds, caring nothing about the measly 5% experience point gain he had gotten from another half-dozen kills.

Caring only that he was getting closer to his target, immediately resetting up his barrier and weapon when another squad came trundling down the steps… only to meet a similar fate to the one that had come before.

And twice more the maneuver was repeated, before he had finally ascended to the rooftop entrance, getting only the briefest flash of battlements lined with countless musket wielding orcs, their weapons braced on the crenelations as they shouted and fired sporadically into the darkness below, before Eric’s world was lit up by fire as a shaman roared and unleashed fiery hot death on Eric before he had the second and a half pause he needed to re-summon his artillery.

You have successfully parried your enemy’s blow!

A time constraint that didn't exist with soul-linked weapons, Eric roaring and charging right for the shaman who perhaps could be forgiven his look of surprise when his target all but ignored the swirling storm of flames that cooked his cheeks but otherwise did him no damage at all.

The shaman cackled gleefully and began shrieking out fresh curses when Eric's attempt at a shield bash did nothing but send him stumbling back.

You have failed to pierce Shaman Ward!

Yet the shaman's cackles were short-lived when Eric traded inert saber for its twin now blazing like the sun, combining Essence abilities and weapon feats into one glorious fusion of killing intent.

Doom Slice!

The nine foot orc stumbled back in horrified disbelief as Eric's blade tore through its body as if wards, armor, and flesh provided no more resistance than slicing through blood-soaked butter, Eric near-instantly covered in the crimson spatter of multiple arteries severed.

The shaman wearing the skins of its victims and a wreath of human fingerbones crashed to its massive knees, trembling hands unable to stave off the spurting lifeblood from a chest nearly cleaved in half.

The creature's eyes glowed with terror and hate in equal measure as death came to collect its due, arcane energies swirling about the shaman for a final devastating curse...

Right before a wild-eyed Eric cleaved its head off with a single furious swipe of his blade.

And if a part of Eric could see beyond his fury and the geyser of blood erupting in his face, if an avaricious part of his soul wanted nothing more than to seize the wand that undoubtedly held the key to arcane classes he had had absolutely no opportunity to peruse or access before that moment, the near hundred musketeers slowly overcoming their shock to turn on Eric as one was all he needed to scratch that idea for good as he immediately darted back the way he had come, diving for the doorway under a hail of bullets.

But not before unleashing a final surge of his will with furious hot satisfaction, activating that which he had found, much to his chagrin, he had been completely unable to access before, his hands now filled with a half-dozen crimson strips of cloth as he tucked himself in a ball and rolled down the stairs, all but carried by the concussive blasts suddenly ripping across the top of the keep, as each and every cask mount exploded, spraying what must have been hundreds of orcs in shrapnel and death.

Congratulations! You are the first contender to successfully eliminate over 100 System Sanctioned opponents at one time with the use of unorthodox explosives you yourself designed and implemented!

Demolitions is now Rank 9

Demolitions is now Rank 10

Demolitions is now Rank 11

Demolitions is now Rank 12!

You have achieved Journeyman Status with all explosives! +1 in Perception & +2 in Finesse means your ordinance is far less likely to explode in your face than ever before! You have 3 possible specialization paths for this skill! The Path of Power, The Path of Balance, or the Path of Mastery...

You have chosen the Path of Mastery! Path of Mastery synergizes with Essence of Dominion! Because utter control over the ordinance you create is your ultimate goal.

You have earned the Title: Mad Bomber!

Mad Bomber Title Boons:

+5 Perception and +5 Finesse and Tier 1 Structural Integrity Sense means that your own weapons will hardly ever blow up in your face, and you now get a gut feeling whenever weapons (or shoddily made buildings) look ready to erupt, topple, or otherwise ruin your day!

All skills involving explosives or gunnery improve 10% Quicker!

All explosives you yourself design and implement, including artillery rounds, will earn you an additional 10% of base experience! (Bringing your base 5% to 15%!)

All Standard classes involving explosives or ordnance are now open to you, regardless of cultural, racial, or subjugated world limitations normally in effect! Advanced prestige classes involving munitions or explosives might additionally be open to you, should other requirements be met! At least one such class available to you will resonate with Silver Tier concordance!

Eric took deep, shuddering breaths as he crashed to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, now strangely certain that he was the only living being in this tower, as his mind and body hummed with a vibrancy, a sense of himself and his environment, that transcended anything he had ever felt before as a sliver of World Seed potential, unlocked by his newest title, shivered into his soul.

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Eric Silver Level 9 Conscript (You are 100% of the way to level 10!)

NOTE! - You have successfully infused your core! All potency earned beyond that required to reach level 10 will be applied to core infusion. You are currently at 79.6% of maximum core density!

Physical Characteristics

Strength – 28 (91%)

Vitality – 26

Finesse – 39

Quickness – 23

Appearance – 12 (Effectively much higher for those who appreciate a powerful physique more than a pretty face.)

Mental Characteristics

Scholarship – 12

Perception – 36

Willpower – 26

Charisma – 13

Potency Pools

Arcane Potential – 14

Spiritual Energy – 16

Soul Reserves – 40 (5.9 points reserved = 34.1)

Stamina – 300 Points

Health – 378 Points.

Resistances & Recovery

Physical Resistance – 2

Physical Regeneration – You recover 1 Health Point every 8 seconds.

Elemental Resistance – 0

Qi Resistance – 0

Mental Resistance – 5

Physical Age = 17 Years (+22 years, 228 Days & 14 hours that Arcane Magics cannot restore! Superhuman vitality allows you to keep your youth, even if you’re now burning your candle at both ends!)

Interface Recognized Skills

Acting – Rank 4

Bardiche (Unified) – Rank 17 (Cleaving Blow)

Blade and Shield – Rank 11

Bow (All Types) – Rank 16 (True Strike)

Crossbows – Rank 16 (True Strike)

Dagger – Rank 3

Demolitions – Rank 12 (Path of Mastery)

ESS Manipulation – Rank 9

Find Weakness – Rank 10 (Spell Cleave)

Gunnery – Rank 2

Iado (Fast-Draw) – Rank 8

Negotiation – Rank 6

Repair – Rank 1

Saber – Rank 14 (Doom Slice)

Spear – Rank 14 (Piercing Strike)

Stealth – Rank 11 (Hunter’s Grace)

Swimming – Rank 2

Unarmed Combat – Rank 4

Necromancer Affinities & Skills

Blood Mastery – Rank 18 (Blood Claimance)

Spirit Mastery – Rank 15 (Path of Dominion)

Rituals of Summoning and Binding – Rank 15 (Path of Dominion)

Flesh Sculptor – Rank 18 (Path of Dominion)

You are now an Journeyman of the Path of Blood!

You are now a Journeyman of the Path of Dominion!

You are now an Apprentice Necromancer!

Necromancer Spells

Unorthodox Abjuration – Rank 3 20! Adept Rank Achieved!

Damage inflicted upon undead: EXTREME. Cost: 300 ex, 50 temporary health, 100 Mana ½ of Soul Reserves. 60 Ex, 10 temporary health, 20 mana, 10% of temporary Soul Reserves. NOTE! This attack WILL affect Bronze tier revenants and cause CATASTROPHIC damage to all White Tier Undead!

Interface Enhancements

Full Neuro-Linguistic capabilities

Extradimensional Storage Space

Essences Claimed:

Fire – Saturated - (Rank 2, White Tier)

Wrath (Rank 1, White Tier)

Dominion (Rank 1, White Tier)

Essence Related Skills:

Burst of Strength: Rank 12 (Path of Mastery)

Dominion’s Resilience (Make your toys harder to break, especially the soul-bound ones!): Rank 3

Heat Surge: Rank 9

Infravision: Rank 13 (Magesight: +4 to spot mind & soul magic.)

Contender Skills (Path of Consumption)

These skills fuse Necromancy, Essences, and a Contender’s potential! You have dared to fuse your gifts along a Forbidden Path!

Necromantic Consumption: Rank 4 - You may feast on the potency potential of Territories you have conquered, so long as you claim none! (The Path of Rulers and the Path of Consumption are diametrically opposed!). You may also feast upon the potency of Dungeons you have achieved a First Completion on, boosting your Strength and Vitality permanently! This form of consumption has the highest likelihood of success, and mimics natural cycles of predation enough that not even System Sentinels can detect your actions! Note: Likelihood of success, penalty cost (in terms of life force) for anything less than a 100% clear, and degree of potency absorbed all benefit from increasing Rank!

Essence Consumption: Rank 3 - You may feast on the Essence potential of Territories you have conquered, so long as you claim none! (The Path of Rulers and the Path of Consumption are diametrically opposed!). You may also feast upon the Essence potential of Dungeons you have achieved a First Completion on! Note: Not all territories or dungeons have any potential essence to claim. Additionally, said essences might NOT be compatible with those you already have. Likelihood of success is lower than with basic Necromantic Consumption, unless territory or dungeon is naturally attuned to a particular essence!

Unformed (Trash Tier) Cultivation Technique (Flame Origin) – Novice – 10%

Titles Earned

Necromantic Prodigy

HERO

Lightning Marksman

Realm Breaker

Headhunter

Mad Bomber

Title Boons:

- Increased spacial perception and sense of timing means you’re 20% more likely to hit all future targets with all ranged weapons!

- You now learn all ranged weapon skills 20% faster.

+4 to reaction rolls from all humans who know of your hero status.

- So long as you forsake the Path of Rulers, you may consume the essence and potency of any territory you claim!

- All skills involving explosives or gunnery improve 10% Quicker.

+2 to all skill checks to impress or intimidate non-native humanoids.

- All explosives you yourself design and implement, including artillery rounds, will earn you an additional 10% of base experience.

- Tier 1 Structural Integrity Sense mean that your own weapons will hardly ever blow up in your face, and you now get a gut feeling whenever weapons (or shoddily made buildings) look ready to erupt, topple, or otherwise ruin your day.

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