Aetharan

Teeth clenched in determination, he kept swinging that pick.  He knew that the noise was likely to attract attention, but his gut told him it wouldn't be anything he couldn't handle.  Why would it be?  He was on the first floor, and he was armed.  He may not be at the level of carelessly ignoring anything shy of boss monsters, but he could make it through this alright.  The work was monotonous, but it allowed him to think about other things.  He had already accepted that he was stuck in this world, and that made it his new home.  He'd need a house.  A workshop.  Somewhere to craft what he wanted.  Somewhere to be Aetharan.  He could already see his first weapon in his head, though he didn't know whether the game system would allow its creation.  He wanted a halberd.  Equal parts battle axe and spear, usable as either where the situation demanded.  He could only hope that the system allowed him to craft such a versatile, basic weapon from the real world.

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(ID# 29052 results: Battle: 7 Craft: 2 Loot: 14 MOB: 2)

Sighing, Aetharan gave himself a few moments to pause and catch his breath.  This wasn't a sprint.  It was a marathon.  He couldn't expect to find what he was after right away, now could he?  After a few moments, he began swinging the pick again.  Tink.  Tink.  Tink.  It was a comforting sound, really.  Reminded him, rather like that first kill, of his first MMO.  How many hours had he burned of his life, running that character around the Barrens to harvest copper and tin?  It had been less of an exertion back then, of course.  No swinging of arms, just right-click on the obvious vein.  Fail the skill check?  Do it again.  Not like the vein was going to disappear before he could mine it out, unless some Alliance prick ganked him and took it or something.  Nah, he could keep this up.

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(ID# 29050 results: Battle: 1 Craft: 8 Loot: 7 MOB: 10)

He was intent on making sure that he had some ore on hand to carry into the next village.  He needed to be able to barter for a hammer, acquire the tools to set himself up with a small forge.  If he wanted to pull that off, he couldn't just give up quickly.  Oh, no.  He'd keep digging until, somewhere in this hole he was starting, he could manage to find some useful amount of iron.  At least, he hoped that it would be iron he brought with him into the next village.  It was just going to be a matter of persistence, wasn't it?  Yeah.  Keep digging, Aetharan.  There has to be some in this hill somewhere.  Unfortunately, it wasn't to be found just yet.

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(ID# 29049 results: Battle: 6 Craft: 6 Loot: 2 MOB: 3)

His third monster dead, Aetharan threw back his head and laughed for quite some time as he held in his right hand the item it had dropped.  It was a sign.  It had to be.  There was no other way to explain what he was holding, was there?  A mining pick.  Of all the myriad things that could drop in this game, it hadn't given him a new weapon, or a piece of armor.  It had given him a basic tool.  The starting point to becoming the self-sufficient warrior that he wanted to be. 

With his new toy in hand, he rushed toward the hills that he could see in the distance.  There was exposed rock there, and that was what he was after.  Exposed rock meant the possibility of ore.  He'd passed through the forest northwest of the starting city, and into the beginnings of the mountainous region beyond.  Instinct told him at as he passed through geological borders, he was also likely passing into the territory of nastier creatures as well.  That was fine by him.  He could fight them.

Once he reached that first rock-face, he began to dig.  It required shifting his spear to his back for the moment so that he could use both hands on the pick instead, but he threw his back into the work.  Unfortunately, he wasn't digging up anything worth-while yet.

=======================================

Out-of-combat recovery, 1 HP.  Aetharan now at 11/11 HP.

(ID# 29046 results: Battle: 7 Craft: 11 Loot: 10 MOB: 4)

(ID# 29044 results: Battle: 7 Craft: 6 Loot: 15 MOB: 4)

Aetharan 8/9 HP.  Mangy Wolf #2 2/5 HP.

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Drawing his spear back out of his victim, Aetharan laughed at the pain that he was supposed to be feeling right now.  Fangs should hurt, and hurt like hell.  They didn't.  It was the slow lowering of a number, by a mere projection.  His HP wouldn't hit zero in a fight of this low caliber!  Again, both parties attacked in the same moment.  Arms were high, grip reversed as he felt the sword skill activate to bring them down in a vicious stab, and his target lunged for his legs in the same moment.  Time seemed to slow for a second, at least in his mind, as the system worked to resolve what was happening.  For once, things seemed to be truly going his way.  Spear pinned the beast to the ground before its fangs could reach him, and soon it was fading into nothingness as if it had never been there.

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(Exchange results: Aetharan's HP remains 8/9.  Miss.  Wolf HP drops to 0/5.  Standard hit, 2 damage.)

(Combat results:  Aetharan gained a level.  HP increases to 10/11.  Wolf drops 1 Material, and 1 Good Item.)

Aetharan 9/9 HP.  Mangy Wolf #2 5/5 HP.

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Aetharan knew as he cleared the treeline that he was off track.  He'd lost the path back there, and now that he could see something other than trees, he knew that he was traveling in the wrong direction to reach the next town.  More importantly, he was staring straight at a wolf, very much like the one he'd already fought.  Thankfully, he knew that such a creature was within his capacity to handle.  He'd slaughter this wolf, no problem.

Rather than flee, he set his spear against the charge and unleashed a growl of his own,  It was time to make his third kill.  As the beast lunged, he brought his blade forward and up under it.  Steel pierced fur, but fangs slashed at his unguarded arm in return.  That was fine.  It was far more painful for the wolf than for the hunter.

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(Exchange results: Aetharan's HP drops to 8/9 Standard hit, 1 damage.  Wolf HP drops to 2/5.  Critical hit, 3 damage.)

By the time he'd found that tree, Aetharan realized that he must be about halfway through the patch of woodland.  He was starting to calm down, and it struck him as he continued on that his current emotional state was very familiar.  He'd felt like this when he took on his first job, back in the real world.  Excited about what things may come.  Hopeful for a better future.  The present may be terrible, but when you were at rock bottom, you could only go up, right?  What had that line been in that anime he watched...?

"To become a vessel," he intoned, "he must release everything, and go beyond his own madness and emerge from the other side."  He shook his head and laughed.  "I'm not sane.  I haven't recovered.  I've only broken a second time.  The only difference now is that this time, it's pushed me into action.  Oh well.  I can continue, and I will.  I will break this game."

Eyes remained open in hopes that he'd pick up some sight of another useful tree or plant, though he knew better than to keep his hopes high.  What wilderness lore he remembered from the real world had only the most tenuous of applications here.  That lack of heightened hopes was a good thing, since he found nothing in his travel worth picking up.

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Out-of-combat recovery, 1 HP.  Aetharan now at 9/9.

(ID# 29041 results: Battle: 8 Craft: 2 Loot: 13 MOB: 2)

Wandering deeper into the wood, Aetharan began to hum to himself.  If there were anybody near to recognize the tune, they'd hear a rather haphazard attempt at Gravedigger.  Eyes were kept wide open for any signs of danger as he moved, but also that hunt for delectable snackage would continue.  There had to be some kind of fruit trees in this forest.  That was just how these things worked, wasn't it?  What he really wished, however, was that he'd thought to acquire a mining pick.  He'd have to do that at the next town, along with gathering some information about where the best places to mine might be.  There was no sense in going out without some kind of skill, and he really liked the idea of creating his own weapon and armor.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of what could only be a peach tree.  This was an unexpected delight!  He might not be personally very fond of that particular fruit, but food was food, and he might be able to trade it for something he'd like better.  At the very worst, he could sell it as soon as he got to town, right?

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Out-of-combat recovery, 1 HP.  Aetharan now at 8/9.

(ID# 29039 results: Battle: 2 Craft: 7 Loot: 18 MOB: 9)

Gain 1 Material.

After that second fight, Aetharan paused to suck in some of the sweet air.  He needed to steady his breath, calm his heart.  It didn't take long.  After all, there was no pain, now was there?  Just that knowledge that his HP were falling, and that if he ever let them hit zero, he'd never wake.  Not that he wanted to go back to his old life, but he couldn't die here.  Couldn't let others continue to die, as he had when he'd been staring at the ceiling for however long that had been.  No.  He had to live, and fight, and break this place.

After a few minutes, he lifted himself up and strode into the woods.  Time to stay away from anything dangerous, at least until he was sure he was at full health again.  Play it safe, Aetharan, and you just might live.  He decided to use some of this time, while he was waiting for his health to recover, to look around for food more fulfilling than the bread that he'd been feeding on.  Maybe, just maybe, he could find an apple tree or something.  Unfortunately, all that he could find seemed to be evergreens.  Certainly nothing resembling any fruit that he knew!

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Out-of-combat recovery, 1 HP.  Aetharan now at 7/9.

(ID# 29038 results: Battle: 5 Craft: 8 Loot: 1 MOB: 5)

(ID# 29030 results: Battle: 4 Craft: 3 Loot: 6 MOB: 7)

Aetharan 6/7 HP.  Wolf 3/5 HP.

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This was bad.  The wolf was faster than Aetharan had anticipated, and it was making it hard to do anything useful against it without the element of surprise.  Spear twirled, then was thrust again toward his furry opponent, which for a second time managed to dance around his pole-arm as if he were moving as slow as molasses.  For a second time, the wolf darted in, and this time its teeth sank into Aetharan's leg.  He hissed, not in pain but in frustration at the loss of a second hit point to this creature.  If he was going to finish this, he needed to regain his focus and finish it quickly.  There was nothing that he could do to help anybody if he couldn't help himself.

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(Exchange results: Aetharan's HP drops to 5/7.  Standard hit, 1 damage..  Wolf HP remains 3/5.  Miss.)

(ID# 29026 results: Battle: 6 Craft: 2 Loot: 11 MOB: 1)

Aetharan: 7/7 HP, 2 damage/hit.

Mangy Wolf: 5/5 HP, 1 damage/hit

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This time, there was no war cry.  He'd been there, done that.  Besides, this enemy didn't have the flavour of Durotar to it.  The music in his mind shifted, but he couldn't remember the source of the tune this time.  It didn't really matter, did it?  Lunge and stab.  Savor the bite of spear into flesh, even if it was only simulated.  The beast was nothing to him, just a snarling image that represented this world trying to kill them all.  He wouldn't let it kill him.  Not here, not now.  This creature would die.

The wolf was surprised, its first awareness of the fight coming in the form of the damage to its flank.  It turned and snapped at the source of the pain, but where it expected to find an arm holding a dagger, teeth came down only on a sturdy wooden haft.  The poor beast had failed, miserably, to bring its attacker a swift death.

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(Exchange results: Aetharan's HP 7/7.  Mob missed.  Wolf HP drops to 3/5.  Standard hit, 2 damage.)

Still all too happily smiling to himself, Aetharan began to walk away from the site of his first kill, with the city still to his back.  He didn't want to return to the Starting City if he could help it.  That place was where he'd let Aaron die.  He couldn't move backward now.  The only way was forward, and eventually up.  His path took him across those plains as he wandered, trying to keep an eye out for trouble, and he could feel that the damage he'd suffered was healing over time.  That was very good to know.  It meant that, so long as no individual fight brought his HP to zero and ended his game, he could always hole up after a bad one and let himself regenerate before moving on.  He didn't have to run back.  He could continue on.  This knowledge was the very essence of comfort.

In the road ahead of him, he saw a wolf that was, by all good fortune, looking the wrong way.  This was another stroke of luck, and something that made him very happy.  That thing, he guessed, was meant to ambush somebody returning from gathering in the woods ahead, while they were still weak.  He could let himself wait until he was ready, but gripped that spear of his with a delighted, almost sadistic grin.

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Out-of-combat recovery, 1 HP.  Aetharan now at 7/7.

(ID# 29017 results:  Battle: 7, Craft: 1, Loot: 5, MOB: 2)

Boar: HP 3/3, Damage 1/hit.

Aetharan: HP 5/5, Damage 2/hit (2-handed spear 1 damage, +1 for skill.)

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The shout from that human startled Snuffles out of his happy rooting around.  He turned to look at the source of all that noise, only to see a thin creature standing in front of him and leveling a pointy stick.  There wasn't much brain power in Snuffles, of course, but the boar was just aware enough to understand that it wasn't going back to its idleness until this pest was out of its way.  Screw this.  Time to charge.

Aetharan, meanwhile, was braced for this charge.  He'd expected it.  Wanted it.  He needed his first taste of digital blood in this world, and his blood now pumped with rage.  It was stupid, he knew, to see a mere boar as somehow representing everything wrong with this world.  Nonetheless, that was how he chose to interpret it.  Every mob.  Every last thing in this world that was trying to kill him, or any player, was a part of the system to be eradicated.  It didn't matter if they eventually re-spawned.  Each one he took out was one that wouldn't threaten somebody out searching for materials, for however many minutes that spawn timer took.  It was one fewer avenue for the Aarons of this world, those poor, broken souls, to end their game.  His spear may be weak.  Aetharan himself may still be weak.  Still, he could do this.

As the boar reached him, it lowered its head in an attempt to gore his leg, and he similarly lowered his spear to its level as he sidestepped.  Those tusks missed their mark, and Snuffles squealed in agony as steel bit deep into his flank.  The first exchange had gone to Aetharan, but the fight was not yet done.

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(Exchange results: Aetharan's HP 5/5.  Boar HP drops to 1/3.)

Aaron wasn't sure who had moved him, or was providing him (and, he perceived, many others) with that food and water.  He ate by rote when the pangs became too great, even if he wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders.  The occasional spark of something would cross his mind, including the often-recurring thought that if he'd still been in the real world, this was the kind of funk that would have his weight dropping very rapidly.  It wasn't suicidal depression, but something far more insidious.  A man in this state was in no danger of ending himself with knife, noose, or bullet, but if he didn't snap out of it, he might simply waste away anyway.  He'd go to sleep one night, and just fail to wake up again in the morning.  It was that realization that began to pull him up again.

He wasn't sure how long it had taken.  Days?  Months?  However long it was, the final part was as if something had snapped.  He opened his eyes and found himself staring up at the same ceiling that he knew he'd been looking at forever, yet had never truly seen.  He then sat up of his own accord for the first time since logging into SAO, and made the motions through the menu to equip his spear.  Gripping it in his left hand, he took a deep breath to steady himself, then his head swiveled to take in his surroundings.  He wasn't the first of the broken to get up and walk out that door.  That much he knew.  Sometimes, one would just get up and leave, and he suspected that most were seeking a high point to leap from.  Other times, new bodies would fill the beds.  Minds that had taken longer to break.  Was he the first whose sense of purpose had come from something other than some internal decision to end this half-death by finding its completion?  That, he'd have to find out later.

One thing was certain, at least to him.  It wasn't Aaron who'd gotten out of that bed.  He was weak.  SAO had broken Aaron the moment he knew it was a death game.  That man, that waiter, had been left behind in his convalescence.  No.  It was Aetharan who stepped out that door onto the street, and began to walk toward the edge of town.  It was Aetharan whose pace quickened with determination as he made his way into the fields.  Aaron had been broken by this world.  Aetharan was going to break it.

He'd been out in the field for less than twenty minutes when he laid eyes on his first prey.  A boar.  Waves of nostalgia overcame Aetharan at that sight, and he licked his lips as he steadied himself to prepare for the fight.  In his own mind, he was hearing the music from another, far older MMO's starting area, where once upon a time his very first online character had gotten its very first kill on a creature much like this one.  It brought a smile to his face for the first time since he'd realized that he was in a killing game, followed by a shout.

"Lok'Tar Ogar!  Victory or death!"

Profile
Username: Aetharan
Real name: Aaron Smith
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Height: 5'8"

About:

Physical Parameters:

Aaron is of roughly average, if not slightly below-average height, and has always been thin.  At the time that he put on his VR gear to enter SAO, he weighed 115 lbs, so it's difficult to find fat anywhere on his body.  He has sharply-defined, slightly angular features, with a strong nose and chin.  Eyes have always been listed as 'hazel' on official forms, but a close enough inspection reveals the iris to be effectively a dark brown disc with the outer half of its radius irregularly covered over by a lighter greyish-green.  He has thick but fine medium-brown hair, which if worn free hangs to about an inch above his waist.  Facial hair, at the time of scan, was a square-cut goatee, with two-day sideburn stubble (but a properly clean neckline.)  Eyebrows are perhaps a bit bushier than he should have allowed, and they (along with his goatee) are several shades darker than the long hair growing from his scalp, although the stubble is almost blond.

Where racial phenotypes are concerned, he appears primarily Caucasian.  There are some hints in his bone structure that his ancestry isn't entirely European, but it would take somebody who's put some study into the topic of racial morphological differences to figure out that his family has remaining traces of Native American heritage.  He attributes his stronger-than-average (at least, for the area he lives in) jawline and nose to that side of his family's history.  It also takes the blame for his inability to grow a proper "wizard's beard."

History / Personality:

Aaron was born in a small town in Arkansas, and raised in the relative comfort of a lower-middle-class family.  This is to say that, while far from wealthy, he has no memories of his family ever having to struggle to keep food on the table, even with as many mouths as his parents had to feed.  He was the third-born of four children, with one older brother, one older sister, and a twin sister that he alternately doted on and had a rivalry with.  Life through school was pretty much typical, with the exception that he and all of his siblings were registered into the school system's "gifted and talented" program.  There was a short time before that registration during which he was considered a "problem child" by his teachers, but a part of that came from his tendency to finish his school work far more quickly than his peers, leaving him bored.  Another came with his inability to accept the little lies told by teachers who believed that the truth would be too difficult for their students to understand.  (First Grader: "How do you know which number to subtract from the other number?"  Teacher: "You always take the little number from the big one.  Big numbers can't be taken from little numbers."  Six-year-old Aaron: "Yes they can!  You just get a negative number!")

The school district had a policy of putting their gifted students through a college entrance exam in the seventh grade.  On a scale for which 36 was a perfect score, Aaron's older brother (who later graduated valedictorian of his class) scored a 21 as a seventh-grader, while both sisters scored at 19.  Aaron managed a 25.  In other words, all four could technically have entered college instead of proceeding to junior high.  None skipped ahead, however, and by the time they took the exam again as high school seniors, those scores had improved to a 32 for all but his twin, who only achieved a 27 (and, despite this being ten points higher than needed to get into college, Aaron found himself consoling a crying sister when those scores came in.)  For the older brother, that scholarship-winning score had come after weeks of study.  For the older sister, those same weeks plus an extra, month-long prep course.  For Aaron?  Slightly hung-over and severely sleep-deprived, with no study beyond what he usually gave for his classes.  Aaron had already ceased to care.  His brother had, six years before him, done the "academic achievement" thing.  To him, there was no point.

After graduation, he started college but never finished.  Thus began his bouncing from one job to the next.  He waited tables-- loved it, and was good at it too, often bringing in a fifth of his sales as tips when many of his co-workers struggled for half that number.  Still, that job provided no room to rise, no future, and so he moved on.  He got a job as a security guard, where the training only reinforced his instinctive protection of others.  Sitting at the front desk of a call center in which some five hundred women were working on any given day, he considered every last one of them a baby sister in need of sheltering, and if anybody hurt one of his protectorates, it was going to be over his dead body.  Two years into that job, he tried to take another semester of classes as well.

It was during this time that he regained contact with his high-school sweetheart, who'd also been his first lover.  At the age of 24, having moved to night-watch and taking classes in the afternoon, he married her.  Her three daughters, products of a previous marriage, were welcomed into his home as his own.  Unfortunately for him, all good things must come to an end.  The stress of effectively having three full-time jobs (his actual work, the raising of a trio of children, and taking full classes for the semester) got to him, and his immune system crumbled.  By Halloween of that year, he was forced to withdraw from school, and his boss had cut his hours back by a quarter.  That Christmas, he handed in a resignation letter, and by New Years was starting his next job: retail.

That job, like the one in security, managed to last two years, and like his previous job he worked nights.  Over those two years, his relationship began to fade.  On his 26th birthday, in early October, he found when his boss told him to take a half-day off that his wife was cheating on him in his own bed.  By the next day, she was out from under his roof, and he had divorce papers drawn up.  He had to miss two nights of work in early January for the actual proceedings in court, and he was fired for those missed days because his boss wouldn't allow him to use vacation days for it.  Just to add insult to injury, that weekend in his depressed state, he tried to drive home drunk and totaled his car.  He'd hit rock bottom.

The next four years saw some small recovery for him.  Jobs lasted less time, and paid less, but at least he worked.  It ultimately came full circle, with Aaron finding himself once again waiting tables, a decade after he'd last done so.  The industry had changed, but he could still keep up, as long as he had a knee brace to help hold him steady.  At least the tips were enough for him to buy that nifty VR rig and this awesome new game.  He couldn't believe that he was one of the lucky ones to get a hard copy on the first day!  After all, as that old grey tee of his said, it was going to be his perfect day: "Wake up.  Play video games.  Eat breakfast.  Play video games.  Eat lunch.  Play video games.  Eat dinner.  Play video games.  Go to sleep."

His free time (what he had of it) before joining SAO was largely spent either playing various video games (especially RPGs), reading fantasy novels, or going on long wiki-walks.  The last of these is responsible for a greater-than-expected knowledge of different kinds of pole-arm, along with a decent understanding of both just how big and just how tiny the real world is, when compared to a single person or the whole universe, respectively.  He actually takes comfort in that mental image painted by Douglas Adams of an infinitely tiny dot that reads "You are Here", showing off one's place in the universe.  After all...  no matter how much humanity screws itself up, with all that space, all those worlds out there, surely somebody has got it right, even if we haven't yet.  Right?

Virtues:
Karmic Ledger:  "Remember ye the rule of three: what ye send out comes back to thee."  Some parts of the faith he found in his youth hold strong in him, even if he never was a seriously practicing member.  He doesn't just believe in the 'golden rule', as it were, but that the sum of his good and bad deeds in the world will be something to which he is held accountable by his own conscience when he passes over to the other side, before he can reincarnate.  No excuses, no justifications, and no forgetfulness.  As a result, he honestly strives to keep that ledger in the black.

Gregarious:  In beautiful disharmony with himself and his fear of attachment, he is genuinely fond of being with others.  Although somewhat inept socially, he is never intentionally rude or insulting, instead preferring to try to make others smile.  He may not be able to hold onto these acquaintances (or even force himself to try to), but while they're near, he hopes that he can help make sure that they smile.  It helps that the above 'karmic ledger' provides a feedback loop here, as he considers making others happy to be a good deed.

Hyperactive 'Big Brother' Instinct:  The third-born of four, Aaron has two sisters (one older than him, one younger by less than an hour.)  His upbringing occurred in an area where social norms place the brother in the role of protector, and in his younger years he was quoted several times with lines to the effect of "For every tear you make one of my sisters cry, I'll make you cry ten."  Those who harm somebody he has deemed under his protection quickly learn that 'disproportionate retribution' is his MO.  Perhaps most important is the fact that over the years, as his sisters grew into strong, independent women, the umbrella of this protection has grown to encompass every female he meets who registers to him as being younger than himself.

Flaws:
Disability Bleedover:  In real life, Aaron is blind in one eye and has been for his entire life.  Aside from minor problems with depth perception, it had no real effect on him in the real world, because he never knew what it was like to be fully sighted.  You can't miss what you never had, can you?  When he first put on the VR gear, that changed.  His brain is now processing signals that he never had to before, and that leads to some confusion.  Ultimately, he processes this as a kind of phantom headache that begins about halfway through the day.  He is also easily dazzled by bright lights, and reacts erratically to stimuli originating on that side-- often in the form of a paranoid jerkiness.  He is extremely uncomfortable with having anybody that he does not implicitly trust standing on his right side, as a hold-over from the real world, where it was to him just as vulnerable a position as at his back.

Ennui:  Another holdover from the waking world, Aaron / Aetharan spent much of his life seemingly drifting aimlessly from one low-paying job to another, never finding anything that brought him a sense of passion or drive.  Without such a driving force, he is prone to bouts of depression that can sometimes extend as far as sitting alone in silence somewhere for up to an entire day.  On up-swings, however, he temporarily makes seeking purpose into that driving force, which can lead to week- or month-long bouts of tilting at windmills before he swings back down into depression again at the pointlessness of it all.

Abandonment Issues:  Everybody and everything that he has ever grown attached to has gone, in one way or another.  Familial relationships are distant at best, though few are actually bitter.  He had a number of friends in high school and college, but never really kept in touch and let them slip away.  Pets eventually die, no matter how much love and care is given.  Marriage was a beautiful dream, but one which ended after only two years in a divorce.  There hasn't been a single, grand trauma (although the divorce comes close to being one), but myriad little things have added up to a distrust and outright fear of growing attached to people.  The moment he catches himself starting to trust somebody, red flags go up in his mind.  "If I start to rely on them," he thinks, "they'll leave me high and dry when I most need them.  No.  Never again."

Profession:

Beginner Blacksmith (18/20 Exp)

Skills

Unspent Points: 1
Non-combat:
»

Passive:
» Search and Detect: Rank 1 (2 SP) (+1 to LD)
» Heavy Armor: Rank 1 (2 SP) (+1 Mitigation while wearing heavy armor.)
» Battle Healing: Rank 2 (6 SP) (In battle, gain 2 HP passively on rounds when CD is at least 10.)
» Night Vision (Ignore questions of light.)

Combat:
» Concentration (+1 to battle die, once per 5 rounds.  Free-action activated skill.) [Extra Skill]
» Meditation: Rank 1 (Takes an action, chance to cure negative status effects, chance to heal.) [Extra Skill]

Weapon skills:
» 2-Handed Assault Spear: Rank 1 (2 SP) (+1 damage with 2-handed spears.)


Inventory

Col: 3,130.
Weapons/Tools:
» Jagged Half-Pike (2h Assault Spear, Rare, +2 Damage)
» Basic mining pick.

Clothing/Armor:
» Cloth outfit (Standard-issue, favoring darker shades.)
» Fur-Lined Breastplate (Uncommon Armor, +1 Mitigation)

Other:
» 1x <<The Matriarch's Stinger>>
» 1x <<Snowfrost>>
» 3x Wolf Fur
» 1x Grilled Wolf Steak (good meal)
» 1x Boar Meat
» 1x Peach
» 5x Iron Ingot
» 2x Steel Ingot
» Basic forge, smelter, and anvil for shop.

Roleplays
» Coming Up for Air  [Benchmark!]
» <<Earning a Living>> The Warmth of a Forge
» <<The Gemini>> In a Mirror, Darkly
» <<Long Live the Queen>> Regicide
» <<Calming the Soul>> Knocking on the Sky
» <<Avalanche>> Clearing the Back Yard


Relationships
» (None so far.)