Wail

We keep on until about mid-morning when our Life Balance hits zero, and we start taking damage from lack of sleep and food.

We've actually been pretty lucky on our journey, and only had one random encounter with a pack of wild dogs that wasn't too hard to deal with. There hasn't been a whole lot of talking. I was curious about how he (the way I thing of Dwayne now, although he hasn't mentioned preferred pronouns) was coping with being in a female body. It would have been nice to compare notes. But he didn't want to discuss it. I didn't even get the opportunity to tell him the same thing had happened to me. The topic was simply off limits. 

The only thing we did discuss was the nature of a Banshee.

He asked, "So, are you undead or something."

"No. Banshee's are sort of magical beings. The game compared them to the Unsealie, but I don't know what those are. They fall into a category between humans and fairies. But as far as I know, I'm supposed to be alive."

"Huh. And you picked this species?" He does not sound impressed.

"Sort of. I got a chance at a special species with bonuses, but it was determined randomly."

"Cool."

"Cool," I agreed halfheartedly, not really feeling that it was the word I'd use to describe what I'd been turned into.

When the need to rest becomes overwhelming, he says, "Look over there. Is that a building?"

"A barn, maybe," I assess.

We made our way to it, and sure enough it's a dilapidated old barn with stone walls and a collapsed wooden roof. If it ever stored livestock, it was a long time ago.

 I say, "It's strange it's out here all by itself in the middle of nowhere."

"Yeah. Let's check it out. We might be able to get some shut-eye in there, if it's not infested with anything." 

It takes all of five seconds to explore the place. It's one room filled with rotting hay and debris from the damaged roof. Nothing to fight except a few harmless bugs.

We settle down, each of us in different clean patches of the floor. Although clean is a relative term here. Despite the system telling me I need rest, I'm not that tired and wonder how I'll get to sleep.

A message pops-up.

Okay. So that's pretty easy. I accept the eight hours and—

* * *

I wake up eight hours later.

"Wow," I say. stretching even though I don't feel groggy or stiff like I normally do when I wake up. "That's kind of weird."

"Yeah," Dwayne says. "It's like you just stop existing until you start again. At least, all the points are back to max. Let's get out of here. The village shouldn't be much farther."

As good as it will be to get to the village (if it even exists), a storm has rolled in and the sky roils with black clouds and rain comes down over the countryside in angry sheets. It drips in from the holes in the roof, and the smell of wet hay fills the barn.

"Should we wait it out?" I ask.

"I don't think imaginary rain is going to hurt us," Dwayne says. He seems almost eager to get out into it.

Then it hits me. I say, "Ah! Water Nymph! Of course, you wouldn't mind the rain."

"Hey! Fuck you! Just 'cause this is my character doesn't mean that it's who I am. It's not like I enjoy getting soaked just because I'm playing some water-loving bitch." But he looks out at the weather with longing in his eyes.

Before this can become an argument—well honestly, before I cave and follow him, we're interrupted by a cry or a barking sound.

I turn and see four dog-men in the back corner of the barn, coming at us.

Unlike the bandits, these aren't men with some dog characteristics, but people with dog heads and fur. Luckily, they're not big like the bandits. They're more regular sized like me.

I use the detect and get the message:

 

"Crap!" I call out to Dwayne, when I see what level they are. "These are going to be tough." Then, after a thought, I add, "Sorry for the noise."

I let lose with my Wail. Three of them stop in their tracks and slump with a sense of defeat. They look about to cry. But the fourth is still charging. He's naked except for a leather belt and he raises a short stubby sword above his head.

Dwayne sends out a tornado of water and it slams into the boggle sending him back a step or two. He's out of range of my knife, so I do my only available offensive spell and begin dancing.

I'm pretty surprised by how graceful I am as I begin twirling in a slow, languid glide. Dwayne seems pretty surprised too. I catch the widening of his eyes. Then, I realize my cape has swung open again, giving everyone a view of my bare torso. I scrabble to pull it shut with one hand and keep dancing. Dwayne pulls his eyes away from my body and launches another water spout before the boggle reaches melee range. The stupid thing goes for me, and his sword slams against my arm. I grit my teeth in sudden agony.

My Mystic Energy is depleting quickly, so I bring out my knife and cut a thin scratch against his torso. Dwayne brings out this small trident looking thing and pokes the creature.

The next blow from the sword, is a thrust to the gut, and I waste no time drawing back some health from my attacker. Only to feel a backhanded swipe of his blade. Worst still is that his friends have snapped out of their stupor and are almost on us. My cool-down for Wail isn't over yet, so I keep up my hacking and slashing.

Just as the other three reach us, the one we've been fighting slams his sword deep into my stomach. I scream in shock and pain, but quickly turn it into a Wail.

This time only one of them slumps down. Dwayne casts a new spell that sends a wave out from his feet. It slams against all of us, although it feels just like a cool breeze when it hits me and not a wall of water. However, the first boggle is washed away, dead.

A new one steps in and smacks me with a club. I can feel myself close to death and have no choice but to drink one of my health potions.

Dwayne takes a nasty gash against one arm and sends out another wave. I follow suit with my own mass attack and give another twirl of my dance. Two of our foes seem to shrivel as if their skin suddenly has become both saggy and brittle.

I don't have time to congratulate myself as the club is coming down again and my magic is spent. I thrust my knife out and hope that with the critical hits, he doesn't have much life left.

I see Dwayne chugging a potion. As the other two gang up on him. With another cut, the boggle with the club is dead. I quickly move to intercept one of our opponents, so Dwayne isn't overwhelmed.

Dwayne's trident brings down his foe.

It couldn't come at a better time. The new level comes with some more Life Force, and it keeps me from being dangerously low.  

The next lunge with my knife swipes clean across the remaining boggle's throat. It opens up like a second mouth and spews a gush of blood that rivals one of Dwayne's waves. I receive a message telling me I delivered another critical hit. The monster totters and with a blow from the trident, he goes down for good.

We're both out of breath and bleeding, but Dwayne goes to high-five me, until he catches a glimpse of my bare breasts. My cape has come free in all the fighting. I quickly wrap it tight around me again.

The first thing I'm doing when we reach that village is buy new clothes.

"Damn!" he says, "Those were tough little bastards. How the hell did they get in here without us seeing."

That's when we discover a trapdoor. A ladder leads down into darkness below. Dwayne goes to stick his head in but stops.

"Huh! It's a dungeon entrance. The system just asked if I want to enter."

"That's a big no," I say.

"What? There could be some good loot down there."

"We're both nearly dead and out of magic. We wouldn't last five minutes."

He thinks about it. "We could rest again. Restore our health and magic then hit it."

"Or we could go to the village get help and come back."

He looks both frustrated and disappointed. The expression is super cute on his pretty little face. "But I'm sure we can do it ourselves. We survived those things. It can't be as bad as they were."

"Unless it's worse."

"Aw, come on," he says in a wheedling way. "I know girls are more cautious than dudes. But look at it this way, if it gets too much for us we can always retreat, then follow your plan. But let's just check out a room or two. I'd like to get to town with some coin in my pocket."

I'm stunned by what he says, but then realize I've never told him I'm a guy. I almost correct him, but it feels weird and awkward bringing it up. And am I acting like a girl? I didn't think I was. His statement about their behavior seems pretty sexist, but it puts me on edge, and I find myself agreeing with him as though I need to prove something.

Before settling down to our second sleep in an hour, we loot the bodies. We each get thirteen coppers and 1 potion of Mysticism for magic restoration. All my inventory slots are full, so I don't take any of their gear, But Dwayne scores a lantern and grabs a couple of pieces of equipment to sell.

Before setting the sleep schedule, I decide to select a new spell, figuring it's better to be a specialist with a bigger repertoire of spells in a single discipline than to branch off with lots of different skills. This seems logical because in this game you level up the skills and not the spells. So the way I see it, the fewer skills I have to level, the fast I'll level up the ones I have.

The system brings up the same menu from character creation.

This time I actually read the descriptions.

Medium: Communicate with the spirits. Level 1: Issue basic commands to spirits. Spirits must pass a saving-throw or obey.

It has promise.

Ectoplasm: Produce a cloud of ectoplasm from the ether and turn it into an ally to fight along side you. Level 1: 1D4 damage for 1D6 rounds.

Could be useful.

Whom the Bell Tolls: Generate a somber bell clang that acts as a sonic attack. 1D4 damage to all opponents who can hear. Additionally all opponents in a 3' range need to make a saving-throw or suffer from Despondency (damage halved for 1 round).

Meh! It has the same mass target damage as the dance with a bit of the effects of Wail. Not a terrible spell, but I want something I don't already have.

Death Warmed Over: Raise the dead. Level 1: Raise 1 dead subject to fight along side you for 1D6 rounds. Subject must be of equal or lesser level to you. Subject is able to use all weapons and skills available to them when alive.

I don't even have to think about it—"Death Warmed Over," I tell Katie.