Vraxious-[System Sanctuary]
Vrax’s perspective once again settled into a god’s-eye view of the cloaked man. He wondered what the skill would be this time. The man knelt in a forest glade teeming with life; his hand gently stroked some kind of wolf-like being that towered next to him. It rounded on him, violently, apparently deciding to tear his throat out. He leapt back, and tentacles of flesh with scythe-like tips flashed forward from under his robes, hooking into the beast and tearing it open. He strode forward, the beast struggling against his grasp, and his form changed, bubbling as his head stretched to an awful, tooth-filled maw. His hands elongated into glowing, clawed implements of hunger. The man pounced, tearing apart the wolf with his own tooth and fang.
Holy shit, that is absolutely terrifying. I don’t know if I could stomach doing….that….to myself. It looks incredibly powerful, though.
His view shifted once again to the same glade teeming with life. This time the cloaked man stood beside a tree with hungry branches and what Vrax would have sworn was a Devourer, although he couldn’t tell for sure with the general haze laid across these visions. The same massive wolf faced the man down, its growls echoing across the glade. The man slowly laid a hand upon the tree, and its writhing branches calmed, almost protectively draping themselves between the man and the wolf. The man crouched next to the Devourer, placing his hand on it gently. The wolf slammed into the shield of the tree’s branches, scrambling to get at the man. The Devourer slowly changed, growing larger, and spider-like limbs burst from its body. A horrifying bladed tail rose from it as the transformation completed. And the Devourer leapt to meet the wolf, the branches parting before it, allowing it to strike.
Vrax didn’t even have time to wrap his head around all the implications behind that skill. Before his vision swirled once again and the glade reset.
The man sedately circled the wolf, no weapons visible in his hands. It charged, digging great furrows into the earth. The man deftly stepped under its maw, firmly grabbing hold of its shoulder as it passed, swinging himself onto its back. He thrust both of his hands deep into its fur, and it took a shuddering half step forward as something happened within it. It let out a single pained whimper before growths of horrific flesh and bone forced their way from its side. Tearing the flesh open from the inside and spilling onto the ground. The wolf struggled for another moment before one of its own teeth seemingly explosively grew and jutted through the top of its skull, instantly stilling its wrath.
Vrax took a shocked moment to consider his choices as the violent scenes began to replay in front of him. The first looked like some kind of self-focused flesh-crafting skill. It almost certainly had almost endless potential, but Vrax didn’t think he wanted to spend the rest of his life more monstrous than half the things he would hunt. Not to mention if he did that in a dungeon odds of other adventurers mistaking him for a monster seemed fair. The last ability was, as far as he could tell, an offense-focused flesh-crafting skill using your very quarry’s body against them. That one didn’t interest him. The last thing he wanted was to mutate and unnecessarily mangle all the monster parts he was going to sell.
But the second skill option seemed almost too good to be true. Changing the monsters and plants around himself. It called out to him on an almost spiritual level. He quickly focused his will on the second option, and the system chimed in response; a deep boom reverberated throughout him as a new sculpture was created in his sanctuary.
[Skill Acquired]
[Adapt Life]
Change living beings to better suit your needs. Entities changed with this skill will be less hostile towards the paladin. Faster changes or changes farther from the base functions of an entity will use exponentially more mana. The more powerful an entity, the more mana required.
[Mana Cost Massively Variable]
[Duration Permanent]
Vrax mentally jumped for joy; it was just as good as the vision had made it seem. He could already think of some truly nasty traps he could make. And if they were less hostile to him, he could be a mobile powerhouse loading himself up with the botanical equivalent of a bomb. A far cry from the painstaking caution he had been using to not get ripped to shreds by his own traps. And could he essentially befriend and customize monsters now? The phrasing for that made it seem like he certainly wasn’t a tamer now. But who knows? With a few dozen levels of skill crafting, he could probably steer the skill that way. He needed to find something that was already at least amenable and test the limits of this skill. His mouth twitched upward thinking of the dozen Devourers happily milling about less than a day away.
Vrax steeled himself to see what his starting talent would be; instead, his vision swam back over the same glade. This time the man did not wear a cloak. No way, a third skill? Wait, this doesn’t look like a skill…
The man stood in the glade wearing thin armor made of a light brown bark that sinuously hugged his form. The bark carried climbing vines along the natural ridges. From the gloved hands a cool mist poured out, teeming with healing energies. A cape of verdant green leaves trailed behind him. Where he stepped, the ground flowered. The leaves flaked from his cape in an endless trail, seemingly hypnotizing the glade wildlife. Who wandered over fearlessly to follow behind him? The wolf appeared in the glade and charged the man. His armor was torn asunder under its bite. Fangs digging deep into the man's arm. The healing mist billowed out around him thickly. The man's wounds began knitting closed. The armor is growing over his limb again. This battle continued with the man slowly whittling down the beast, his armor healing and growing over and over until he finally slew the beast.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
The glade reset again. This time Vrax felt an emotion leak through before the image even resolved. The same remorseful sense of loss he had felt next to the burned tree. The burned spriggan tree. The man stood in the glade wearing an intimidating, tight-fitting suit of plate mail, like a lost knight of old. The man moved impossibly unhindered in the armor. It was forged of overlapping sheets of charred bark. The edges were blackened to a charcoal by fire. The slightest hints of green peeked out from joints and seams. He reached down and touched the grass; it writhed as it wilted around him. Fungi of all shapes and colors sprung up through the death above. The man stood in the circle of new life, looking out as the wolf appeared. The wolf lunged across the glade at the man, slamming to a tumbling halt as the fungi at his feet bound its forelimbs in a web of mycelium. Its jaws angrily snapped at his armored forelimb, cracking teeth and scraping charred wood from the armor. The man grasped the wolf by the face with his free hand and screamed, a scream filled with loss and hate. The vision suddenly stopped.
Vrax reeled in his mind for a moment as the two scenes started replaying again. Every time the charred armor's vision stops short of its conclusion. What in the hell is going on with this? Why would the system ever be without information like this? I didn’t even know it could withhold information. But this is a unique class; they tend to break the rules. Vrax didn’t understand why, but he knew he had to choose the tarnished armor. Fuck it. It looks like it has much better defenses anyway. I don’t fancy getting torn apart and put back together over and over as my main method of defense. Vrax focused on the sense of loss, and this time there was no deep chime. No sudden shift as a sculpture was formed. Instead he felt a deep burning heat inside his very essence, as if his blood boiled and roiled under the wrathful gaze of a god. It was as if he was being unmade.
[Stigma Chosen]
[Wrath Of The Grove]
Woe befall those that would cause harm to those under the sacred canopy of our protection. Life is a struggle. Life is pain. Life is hunger. Life is fear. Let those who threaten our beloved feel naught but the wrath of the grove until they are returned to the cycle.
Well, that’s ominous as hell; a few more details would be great, system. If I go off what I saw,. I can probably convert the ground around me to allied flora at least. And that beast's fangs actually shattered on the armor. Gods, I hope it is as easy to move in as it seemed. If it encumbers me, I might have to sink more essence than I would like into raw strength to compensate. Alright, talent time? Vrax hovered in the silent void for an uncomfortably long time as the all-consuming burning sensation within him slowly faded to just a hateful ember. The system returned to him once more.
There was no choice; instead, this time a simple, lighthearted drip of essence formed into something familiar and comforting. Almost wrapping him in its embrace
[Talent Acquired]
[Forest Strider]
The forest around you will subtly aid your movement based on intent, be that speed or stealth.
[Passive]
Vrax let out a metaphorical sigh of relief as he finally got a normal ability that didn’t have any concerning implications. Just a fantastic mobility aid. He was ripped unceremoniously from the void of his soul.
Staggering sideways, he caught himself before he stumbled off the side of the platform. A horrid, squat creature with doughy brown skin and wicked black eyes had clubbed him in his side. It was curiously looking at its warhammer, more of a now broken stick with a chunk of rune rubble attached. Vrax reflexively leapt away, flashing identify while he was still in the air [Bogart Tier-1](lvl 2).
Dangerous, but I could kill these even without a class. Where there is one, though…
Vrax reached to his back to grab his spear; his side slightly throbbed in pain from the blow he had taken. Vrax had to stop himself from reacting as he saw his gauntleted arm covered in the charred armor. His stigmata was equipped, and it was probably why his side only slightly hurt instead of having a few broken ribs. The little monster’s club had been hefty before he snapped it on Vrax. With a deft step forward, Vrax slid just within range of his spear, jabbing the creature in the knee. The spear tip scraped off the edge of hard, dense bone. It stumbled but didn’t fall, so Vrax stabbed the other leg, this time reaching for his new powers. He activated [Decomposing Smite] for the first time. He pushed as much mana into the skill as he could. A hazy green-black aura surrounded the speartip like a miasma as it sunk into the Bogart’s leg. The effect was sickening. Flesh sloughed off from the bone, nearly severing the entire limb. The Boggart flailed forward onto its face on the platform. Vrax ended it with a merciful stomp, snapping the creature's neck.
[Boggart Tier 1- (lvl 2) Slain]
Vrax panted in feverish excitement as the essence from the Boggart rushed into him. It wasn’t much, but he had his first kill in years. Where he actually gained power for it. However small it may have been. He noticed his side barely felt bruised anymore. The smite having soothed his injury some. Out of curiosity he willed his mana pool to become visible; he still didn’t know what he was working with there. Though that one smite felt like he had pushed its power to the current limit.
[Mana 41/102 ]
Yeah, that smite had used just over half his mana pool. If he toned it down some, he could still deal devastating strikes and possibly spread it out to three or four per fight. Vrax stopped as his hearing caught an evil chatter somewhere above. There were more Bogarts in the forest above. He needed to sneak out and get clear before they drew the spriggan this way. With a newfound spring in his step, Vrax turned to leave. He hesitated and turned back to the slain warrior on the plinth.
I want that spear. He greedily eyed the ancient spear pinning the paladin to the platform