Paths of the Chosen

Aidan

The Realms

Unknown date (day 1)

Late morning

Somewhere in the Mistvale Highlands

Aidan emerged from the darkness after a supremely disconcerting moment, which seemed to last an eternity and yet no time at all. He shuddered, his mind rebelling from the strange sensation. Clearly, that was something to make a bug report on. He blinked and shook his head, taking in his surroundings. He was standing in the middle of what looked to be a small box canyon, with walls about twenty feet high and thirty feet apart and a shallow creek meandering down the middle. A modest waterfall tumbled down the rocks at the back of the canyon, feeding the stream, and a soft white mist covered the ground a few inches deep -- just enough to make him carefully consider his footing without completely obscuring the terrain.

“Ah, so good of you to arrive at last, Chosen. You certainly took your time. Others are already out frolicking in the Realms or whatever it is their Patrons have set them up to do.” A creaky male voice said, startling Aidan out of his observations and making him spin around. About ten feet behind him was a wizened old man sitting on a rock, his chin resting in one palm and a gnarled wooden staff grasped in his other hand. “No, now is not the time for speaking!” he snapped as Aidan opened his mouth to ask what he meant by ‘the others’. “I have been contracted to perform a job, and answering stupid questions is not it. Anything you might ask now is stupid, so just shut it.

“My job is to teach you the very basics of how to function here in the Realms. First thing first, you selected some Skills, but you have not actually learned those Skills yet. I will fix that, like so.” So saying, the old man tapped the butt of his staff against the ground, and suddenly a series of prompts blossomed in Aidan’s vision.

The prompts seemed simultaneously both completely opaque and entirely transparent. If Aidan wanted to read one of the prompts, it was there hovering in his vision, and if he wanted to see something in the environment, the prompts all faded into a sort of hidden state where he was aware that they were there, but couldn’t see them. He tried mentally dismissing the prompts, and they vanished from his awareness one by one.

“Good, you are not a complete nincompoop. If you ever want to see those or any other System Messages again in the future, there is a System Log, which you can access just by thinking about it. You can also view details about any Skill, Spell, Ability, Talent, or whatever else you have access to by focusing on it similarly. Now then, the most important part of your interface is your character screen. Try opening it.”

Aidan mentally pictured opening up a status screen, and one appeared in his vision just like the prompts had.
“Here you can see all of your Attributes, Skills, Traits, and Abilities; as well as the state of your Health, Stamina, and Concentration; and also any effects which might be active on you, magical or otherwise. There are other things which your character screen will show you, and there are similar screens for your Spells and Talents -- not that you have to worry about the latter for a while -- but I will leave those to you to explore when you are not wasting my time by doing so. Next on the list, let us see…” The old man cocks his head to the side as if trying to remember what he was doing.

“Ah, yes. In addition to the starting Skills, Traits, and Abilities, your Patron contracted me to give you a small selection of starting gear. Given your Skills -- terrible choice, by the way, how do you expect to survive out there with just a couple of weak spells and a smart mouth? No, do not answer, that was a rhetorical question -- this should be sufficient. Do keep track of it all, not all of the Chosen have Patrons as generous as yours.” He waved his staff and a small pile of items -- a three-foot-long rod of polished reddish wood with a thumb-sized ruby at its tip, a backpack, a waterskin, and a small metal chest roughly 12 inches wide by 6 inches deep by 6 inches tall -- clattered to the ground in front of Aidan.

“Finally, I have two pieces of advice for you, as one lost soul to another.” The man’s face and voice eased up a little. “First, your Limitless Ability is unique in all of the Realms, and if the wrong entities learn of it, they will seek you out to destroy you. Second, this place is sealed to your soul. Once I leave, only you will be able to find and enter the canyon. You are safe here, which is good for you because this is where you will return when you die -- and when you die, things will change for you. I am not allowed to say how, but do not treat danger lightly.” His demeanor changed back to his former cantankerousness, and he tapped his staff against the ground again. “Anyway, that is me done and gone. May your path be true, Chosen.”

So saying, the old man faded out of existence before Aidan’s eyes. Aidan called out to him to wait, but within five seconds, the man was gone. Aidan picked up the items he had been given, slinging the backpack over his shoulders and looping the waterskin through his belt, then tried to decide what to do from there.