Damn, that hurt. He thought to himself as he rubbed at the affected area. His olive skin even flushed a slight shade of red where he’d pinched. That could be a problem. Realistic feelings of pain would certainly suck, but it would also make him play the game more carefully.
Atlas liked the occasional game of race in and kill everything you could, but those games only really worked because nothing stopped you until you died. It was a totally different story when pain interfered with your actions and forced you to stop.
A quick surveillance of the area showed trees in all directions. A narrow path wound through the forest in front of him. Looking behind him confirmed it went both directions. He would have to trust the game and follow the path in the direction he faced upon arrival. Hopefully the game oriented him in the direction he needed to go.
As he walked, he noticed his footsteps were lighter than he expected. Then he remembered he was no longer a clunky human. With a few quick bounces, he tried to get a feel for his new body. The realism of the way he moved astounded him. He could jump and spin with ease while dashing around much faster than he could as a human. With the thrill of his new form, he raced down the path.
He hopped low bushes and danced along the edge of the path without a care for his surroundings. The trees thinned out and the forest floor took over more of the space. Tufts of grass sprouted in places and gradually grew thicker as he continued his trek until he burst through the last of the trees and faced an enormous grassy clearing.
A small town sat in the center, and Atlas watched as puffs of smoke rose from the buildings. With nervous anticipation, he approached cautiously. He didn’t want to race toward the village in a dash and startle anyone guarding the place. If his first act in the game was to be shot and killed by a guard, he’d never live down the shame. Hopefully, an Artificial Intelligence kept them from that behavior, but this place was so realistic he didn’t want to bank on that.
The elves on the edge of the town looked up at his approach. A few wore looks of curiosity, while others merely returned to their work. None rose to greet him as he entered. Atlas walked to a male elf with a bow slung over his shoulder.
“Hi, I’m looking for Master Longstride of Kilthan,” Atlas announced.
The elf shook his head before returning his gaze, “Master Longstride is in the longhouse at the end of this main road. Good luck in your trials.”
“Uh, thanks.” Atlas replied, confused by his comment about trials.
He traveled down the path and surveyed the buildings as he passed. They made each of meticulously woven strands of wood. The strips fit so closely that he doubted water could get through them. They also had the general shape of normal domed-style houses. Most intriguing of all were the different appearances.
As his journey continued, he noticed the houses all looked similar, but some of them appeared to be made from unique wood. The grain styles differed from house to house and the colors varied. It looked like natural, unfinished wood, so he didn’t think they stained them to look different.
The longhouse at the end of the road was unmistakable. The gigantic building stretched at least one-hundred feet and was at least half that width, if not more. Double doors with an arched doorway sealed the building on the front. Two elves with bows on their shoulders and a dagger on their belt stood guard at the door. Atlas waved to them as he approached.
“Hey guys, I’m Atlas. I’m here to meet with Master Longstride,” he said as they stared forward without saying a word. Neither turned nor made a noise, so he continued, “He told me to find him here.”
The two remained motionless in complete silence and never even glanced in his direction. He considered walking over and prodding one to make sure they were real, but the doors swung open.
“Ah, Atlas. It’s good to see you again. Please come in,” Master Longstride said as he gestured for him to enter.
“Thank you Master,” Atlas told him with a slight bow. He was unfamiliar with this world and wanted to make a good impression.
“So you’re to be our newest druid candidate? I guess you’ll do. Few wish to take that specific lifestyle.”
“I’m eager to begin. Where do we start?” Atlas anxiously replied, his voice tinged with excitement.
The master merely raised an eyebrow before leading him to a secluded room. A beautifully carved wooden desk rested in the center with legs made from woven rods of wood. The desktop showed the live edge on all four sides, and it shone with a smooth coat of what Atlas could only assume was some kind of lacquer. Two chairs with matching wooden legs sat on each side of the desk.
Master Longstride sat in the one behind the desk and motioned for Atlas to take the other. The master clasped his hands together on the desk and looked at him.
“Druids work with the elements of life and nature. Life is something that is taught as you advance further, but we will work on your training for Nature Magic. A druid relies on three basic spells. Nature’s Wrath, Entangle, and Nurture. Nature’s Wrath will be the first one I teach you,” Master Longstride said as he reached over and grabbed onto Atlas’ arm. A surge of power passed between them and images flooded his mind. Atlas felt the power draw through his body from the ground and build in his hands. The ball of swirling green power solidified and he could almost grab it. Right before he took hold and launched it, the
