BREAKTHROUGH

Col. Petros Arkansas (Callsign: Armpit)

Class: PRODIGY

PIONEER

Species: HUMAN

Grand Level: 50

Hit Points (HP): 2000

(Additional 1000 hit points will boost your system when HP reaches 0. Due to resilience from twice coming back from certain death)

Mana Points (MP):3000 (unavailable)

Attributes:

Strength:

20

Agility:

20

Intelligence:

21

Wisdom:

21

Stamina:

20

Luck:

16

Constitution:

20 (Bonus +4 at 0 Health)

Now that was a sight for sore eyes. Finally my Stats sheet was showing but what it showed me wasn’t what I was feeling. I had been killed, captured and then starved. Battered about, bruised and dragged around. It made me immediately distrust the damn readout. Well I’ve heard about buttering up a person, but that stat sheet looked like it was someone else's. Was the nanotech still on the blink?

Something squelched, then the words blurred. I opened my eyes properly, and the screens still interfered with my vision. Mentally I commanded them closed and away. That seemed to work. Blinking my eyes clear, I gave myself a moment to gather my thoughts. I would be able to get a better understanding of what was going on later. One of the Dwarves was opening our cage. I had to pay attention because I didn’t want to be captive anymore and needed to find a way to get free. With my boots and cloak preferably.

We stumbled out, and were unceremoniously herded into a large gathering of Scalar. I stuck out like a sore thumb. with me being the only human. Most of the looks I got were of the pity variety. “Look mom, he’s only got two arms” was the general consensus and I definitely felt like an oddball. That being said, If I could have legged it, I would have, but the Dwarves, like good minions, had us surrounded by spear point and so we just milled around in this large sandy clearing while more and more wagons arrived and unloaded their catch. The various creatures and beasts that had been caught were taken to a group of buildings not far from us, and I figured those were the beast holding pens. There were reptiles, felines, and simians of all shapes and sizes, insectoid looking beasts and a whole heap of others that looked both terrifying and terrified.

The last part of our trip which I had slept through, had left me befuddled as to where we were exactly, but besides the holding pens a few hundred meters beyond our position I could see a stage being set up and a group of those Gnomes, more distinguished and cultured looking gathered around whispering and pointing. In the near distance a rustic village nestled adjacent to what appeared to be a mountain volcano. It was the only mountain in the entire region and stood tall and proud upon the arid and stark wastelands of the surrounding area. Its protective shadow seemed a comforting presence cast upon the village within its majestic confines.

I found myself standing amidst a large group of Scalar. My two wagon buddies were easily lost in the crowd, but because of their injuries, I was able to single them out eventually, and I pressed myself towards them. We numbered close to twenty individuals now, a medley of different sizes and shapes. I again tried to converse with my recalcitrant companions. I use the term ‘companions’ loosely because, well, besides their names, I didn’t know them much at all.

The moment I opened my mouth and said something, I was hushed.

I turned to see who hushed me, only to see a surly group of Scalar giving me their disdain. They seemed equally unimpressed with my two buddies Javinda and Dhruvam.

I could feel tensions rising as our group stared at their group. It was no match. We were by far the less dominant. Javinda with his blistered burns seeping wetly across his grey skin, and Dhruvam couldn’t even change his expression with that broken jaw. Of course there was me. But 'human' wasn’t really recognised here. I was simply discounted.

I turned my comrades away and spoke low. The guards were watching and I didn’t want to attract any more attention than was strictly necessary. Unfortunately that was when one of the intimidating crew clipped me on the back of the head. It wasn’t painful really, it just surprised me, and made me stumble forward.

In the blink of an eye, I went from reasonable to something completely opposite.

There are few things that rile me up more than a bully. Someone who thinks size and aggression defines their right to rule over others. “You weasily piece of shit! my inner voice rattled at the cage of insanity as I tried to reign in my temper. Unfortunately it was a useless attempt. I was so far gone, so deep had this triggered me that even my years of training to keep a cool head under the worst of conditions failed me. It failed me dismally.

The whole trip I had been biding my time, curbing my rage, cooling my temper, sucking in my pride. This stupid four-armed, three-eyed ass-wipe had just made a very serious mistake. My anger bristled and then finally burst and I shaped the exploding charge into something useful, I directed the force within and focused absolutely.

My eyes, usually blue and friendly, twisted, icy and cold. I turned around slowly to find who had asked me so very kindly for the world of hurt I was willing and able to inflict on them.

“Who dared touch ME?” I growled. Barely a whisper but the fury I carried could crumble stone.

The sea of faces looking at me, seemed mostly blank, empty of emotion. Some showed curiosity. A couple appeared angry at my response. One of them showed a glimmer of amusement. I whispered. Because whispering is so much more effective at intimidation. “Kop of derm?”. The Afrikaans words so familiar from my days of cutting my teeth learning to be a soldier in the Recce’s and yet used so seldom by me. Words immortalised in “The Last Boy Scout”. In English they meant “Head or Gut”.

They looked at each other and then collectively burst out laughing. Some jibes were said, I didn’t really care.

It was the last straw and without further warning I stepped forward, hunched my shoulders and launched my fist in the perfect uppercut right into the jaw of the Scalar with the smuggest expression, judging he was most likely to have cuffed me.

No one hits me and gets away with it!

They all stood taller than me and their multitude of limbs left me feeling awkward, different and unusual. I felt out of place and intimidated, but that’s when a SEAL is at his most dangerous. That’s when an SAS soldier stands tall to claim his ground. That’s where a Recce feels most alive when out of his depth. I was all of those things and so much more. I was incandescent with bubbling fury, frustration and most of all helplessness. But fighting, that was something I knew. Something I could do well.

I put everything I had and more into that punch. My fist tight as the movement began with a slight flex of my toes, a twist in my leg, the momentum carried up through my hips. My lower position funnelled the cascading force up and up through my whole body and then with precision and focus it exploded on upwards from hip to shoulders to arm, wrist and eventually to extend out through my first two knuckles in my clenched fist. The twinge of pain from my pinkie stump just added to the equation. Each flex and motion was an extension of my will to compound and pulverise the smug right out of that smarmy three-eyed bastard.

Smug-mug didn’t see it coming. He had no idea. The punch landed with such speed and force that his expression changed from mean and condescending to slightly baffled and then very confused and contorted in the blink of an eye. That’s all he had time for, because after that, his eyes were closed.

I hit him square on the jaw and pole-axed him. My strength surge had been from all my newly acquired skills, strength, agility and so on. Each element combined to create that explosive result of fist meeting flesh. I even felt a surge of static which discharged at the moment of contact, although it had been minimal and more akin to carpet shock than any real magical force, but it did give me hope that my magic was healing.

His legs buckled as if a sledge hammer had taken out his knees and he crumpled. Both normal eyes rolled back into his head. The third eye simply closed like a trapdoor thudding shut. A spray of his spittle and blood and at least one tooth flew an arc that if caught on a high speed camera would have mesmerised the audience with its pure brutal beauty.

A silence rippled out from me and my victim through the crowd and suddenly a wide space opened up all around us.

I wasn’t done yet. I jumped onto the downed Scalar and began pummelling him. Face, head, chest, anywhere I could. It was madness and completely an outlet for the swirling emotions and unhappiness I had been harbouring over the last week of slavery. It was everything I needed, and I grasped it and used it with all the released energy of a coiled spring.

The dude didn’t have a chance. He might have had four arms, which he used vainly to protect himself, but I just stabbed my fingers into the tender armpit nerve clusters to render those limbs useless, then continued to unleash the beast within me. I don’t know how long I did it, but the crack of a spear against the back of my head knocked me off him and cleared the berserker mist from my tunnel vision. What the fuck was I doing? I thought numbly as more spear shafts reigned down on me, clubbing me into senselessness. I curled into the foetal position to minimize damage and breathed a sigh of relief that they didn’t use the sharp parts to poke me. There was always a silver lining.

Eventually someone screamed “Stop” and a Gnome overseer walked into the fray. His left arm in the classic traffic cop stop gesture. His right hand held a whip. He looked down at me panting in the sand. In contrast to his spotless gilded robe, I spat crimson blood onto the dirt. Those spear shafts packed a punch.

The reason I knew he was an overseer was not so much his action, but rather because my HUD had blinked to life when I looked at him.

Identify activated:

Title: Overseer

Species: Gnome

Level 51

Details unavailable without further interaction.

Well hello Nurse! That was new.

He gestured again, and the dwarves swooped in, grabbed me and hauled me unceremoniously to the makeshift stage I had seen earlier, and they left me in a crumpled heap, bloodied upon its center. Clearly my interactions had landed me as the center of attention. The overseer called the Gnome onlookers to order and then began a bidding process while I clambered gingerly to my feet.

Confused and a little stunned at how quickly events were moving, I was accosted by a plethora of information boxes. Besides the Identify box, my HUD was telling me I had lost half my health. I didn’t feel too good and the crack on the head had left me woozy.

Finally standing on my feet I tried to take notice of what was going on around me. Inadvertently brushing dust, mucus and whatever else was sticking to my body and chest.

An audible gasp went up from the Gnomes bidding for me and I realized that I had exposed my recent chest tattoo. One of the nobles stepped forward gesticulating. Yep, as he neared me and my interest in him grew, the Identify gimmick activated.

Identify activated:

Title: Noble

Species: Gnome

Level 63

Details unavailable without further interaction

Instinctively I brought my hands up to cover the tattoo which had garnered so much attention and two of the Dwarves came onto the stage and held my arms out to either side preventing me from covering the Wasp tattoo.

Suddenly everyone present leaned or stepped forward to get a better look at this tattoo mark gifted to me by Avihs. The Dwarves were strong as I resisted their grasp. I wanted to cover up even more. The crowd were almost predatory in their interest and it unnerved me somewhat. After struggling for a time, I relented. There was no way I could cover up, held as I was.

Identify activated:

Title: Silent Guard

Species: Dwarf

Level 40

Strength: 34

Agility: 12

Health: 6000/6000

Details unavailable without further interaction

Title: Silent Guard Sergeant

Species: Dwarf

Level 47

Strength: 36

Agility: 13

Health: 7100/7100

Details unavailable without further interaction

Oh man, I was going to have to get used to this. Whereas before I had been starved of information, now I was being flooded. I needed some way to tone down the Identify ability.

While I managed my internal Identify ability, the bidding began again and this time there were far more interested parties present. In fact I saw even more Gnomes running towards the stage area from the beast pens. They clearly had not expected someone of interest to be available for them to buy so early in the bidding process. It was a bit overwhelming. I was still heaving in heavy gasps from my recent fight and barely lucid with a throbbing headache. I understood now that I was not going anywhere on my own soon, and cooperation would be my best way to gain intelligence and figure out an opportunity to escape.

I lost interest in their antics while they began to have heated arguments and voices rose as the bidding heated up. I was instead trying to modify my Identify ability, which eventually toned down to just include Type, species, level and title, and left the remaining Identifiable traits blank until I actively wanted to know them. I also discovered that it only activated when someone or something was within a five meter radius of me, and I drew my focus to them. It activated the moment I became curious as if that was the trigger.

I felt that maybe it was good that there was so much interest in me. They wanted me, but it was also bad that I didn’t yet know what for. Clearly fighting or aggression was a quality sought after, and my tattoo had made them all clamor for me. What had Avihs said to me about it? That it would identify me as one of his Chosen. Did that mean I would finally get some respect? Not likely, considering the way they had treated the other Scalar peeps, and Scalar are supposed to be Avihs’ people. Anyway, no use speculating. All would be revealed in due course. I did what every soldier ever born knew well how to do. I hurried up and waited.

Once a winning bid was determined and a hefty price in gold traded hands, I was officially bought and bundled. No Fedex treatment there, although there was a strong guard contingent keeping a wary eye on me throughout. I was led to an area to stand and wait some more. The next item to be sold was none other than the dude I had decked. His lip was fat and swollen and his one eye was puffy too. A couple of his teeth were missing and generally he looked the worse for wear. The three eyes thing still freaked me out but it hadn’t helped him in any discernible way that I could tell. I was definitely the better specimen. Perhaps my ego was a little swollen too. He went to another owner, the interest in him much less enthusiastic than for me.

Eventually they were all sold, and I had five prime Scalar specimens standing besides me. Each giving me a wide berth, but still standing close enough that I could identify them.

Title: Hunter

Species: Scalar

Level 24

Title: Farmer

Species: Scalar

Level 20

Title: Butcher

Species: Scalar

Level 28

Title: Fighter

Species: Scalar

Level 27

Title: Ranger

Species: Scalar

Level 18

The six of us now belonged to a Noble Gnome called Artoo. Yep, just like R2D2’s name, except the word was a proper name rather than Letters and numbers combined. His appearance was definitely more Goblinoid Gnomish rather than a bullet shaped metallic beer can though.

He was unique in that he had loads of jewellery, rings on all his fingers and he hadn’t come close enough for me to know exactly what level he was yet. I eyed my slave master with unbridled hatred.

He strutted about like a peacock, all flamboyant robes and graceful airs. Gnomes fawned on his every word, then he waved his hand at us and the Dwarven minions set about loading us onto a wagon. He made me sick just looking at him.

I got the feeling I was his prize possession and as such we were crammed inside a wagon that separated into two parts. One part was exclusively for me, and the other part was for the five unhappy Scalar. We were trundled off passing the beast pens on the way to the nearby village. I got to see the Queen beetle kicking up a fuss as they struggled to pen her. I hoped she would go to a nice home. A place she could eat loads of these Gnomes and Silent Dwarf fuckers. Haters gotta hate. I was definitely hating on these Gnomes.