Periapt [Survival in the world of a Cursed CRPG, Progression, Crafting, LitRPG]

Hollis hung his fish and bird from a nearby tree branch. He was tired of searching. He took the cooked crab he had gathered and went about smashing its shell with the back of his hatchet before it got too cold.

“I know the camp is out there,” he said aloud while eating. Willo hovered nearby. He felt embarrassed to have come all this way for nothing. He couldn't justify going further without a sign that the camp existed.

The secret explorers' camp had been the last part of the tutorial where all the players' new skills would come into play. Using navigation to follow the randomized map to find the camp, using various camping skills to impress the explorers to get free items, it all came together there.

It might have been out there in the thick forest, but Hollis could not find a trail or any marker hinting at its location. The inspector had shown him employing [Navigation lvl. 4] at first, but by the end he was using [Investigation lvl. 3] because he had no real heading other than “north in a hidden valley.”

He swallowed the cooked crab happily. The claw alone was enough to eliminate his hunger. The legs might be better as bait for fishing later.

He assembled a fire with a cooking spit. Then he cleaned his quarry and had it roasting quickly enough. [Bushcraft lvl. 5] [Cooking lvl. 2]

The fish was unmemorable and, once cooked, smaller than Hollis had hoped. The bird was frozen even after it had been prepared for cooking. It took a while to be ready to eat, and even after it was done, Hollis realized it had a special adaptation that helped protect it from hungry humans: it tasted like garbage.

He spat out the first bite, nearly falling off the log he was sitting on.

“This can’t be spoiled, can it?” he asked aloud. “It was fresh frozen.”

Yet, it tasted like rotten fish. Still, he finished the thing, forcing himself to. Hunger was too grave a debuff. He imagined that it would take some dire circumstances for him to indulge again.

Willo sat and watched. Hollis’ meal nourished him, though he never had to endure the taste.

Hollis reached into his pack and brought out his Thinkin’ Man’s Gin for a swallow.

“Don’t judge me,” he said, as he locked eyes with the little bug. “This is to wash away the flavor.”

With the enchanted liquor came the clarity that he had a decision to make if he were to survive.

He had to choose his Temper. The choice was not an easy one. Too many of his plans had gone astray when he arrived in Periapt and found himself alone. He needed to choose the Temper that would help him succeed alone.

“Show me the available Tempers,” he said to his inspector.

The screen in his mind obeyed.

Before you is the choice that will define you. It might make you an asset to all those you wish to save, or a liability all the same. You consider the Tempers. They will each help you level your skills in different ways.

You consider Discipline, which builds skills slowly through measured, regular practice. It will sculpt your body and mind into a powerful weapon or shield as you might wish. You will grow through every ceiling… eventually.

You consider Judgment, a wise decision, which calls for sound, thoughtful plans and coordination, rewarding leaders for the accomplishments of their subordinates after well-executed maneuvers. This grows skills slowly at first, but then more quickly as more tools are put at your disposal.

You consider Callous, for the brave of heart, which hardens the mind and the body, growing skills through suffering and pain. Whether it be the cold of winter or the sting of injury, what does not kill you will make you stronger.

You consider Bounty, for the sportsman whose accomplishments are a source of progression, with each kill or claim making the next one easier. Growth is limited only by daring and the next task to conquer.

You consider Curiosity, for those who wish to know the truth. Your skills are honed through trial and error and the thrill of discovery. You will learn many things a little and a few things well. Only true satisfaction can bring growth.

Hollis reviewed his options.

Bounty would have been his favorite. Tackling one fight after another in an endless loop of progression. That was how the tutorial was designed. The problem was that the game was cooperative. It was a team-building game, where the threats would become impossible to do alone.

Hollis needed a Temper that would allow him to grow when he was on his own. That also excluded Judgment, which rewarded leadership.

Discipline was a contender. All it required was for him to practice ceaselessly. What had his life been since he decided to return to Periapt but a show of discipline?

Still, the growth would be slow.

Callous promised extreme survivability, but only on the tail of suffering. Hollis was not afraid of pain, but without a healer or other protections, there was no guarantee he could survive pain long enough to grow from it.

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Then here was Curiosity, which would give him a broad level of growth, but only allow him to specialize in things that actually interested him.

Discipline versus Curiosity was the final choice.

Given that he was in a world where mysteries abound, Curiosity seemed a natural fit. He was going to have to ferret out some answers. He might as well grow from it. Discipline back on Earth had given him a head start in Periapt, leveling many of his skills by the time he arrived.

Now, it was time for a new strategy.

“I choose Curiosity,” he said.

You make up your mind to venture forth to where answers lie, no matter the cost.

[Archaeology lvl. 1] -> [Archaeology lvl. 2]

[Investigation lvl 3] -> [Investigation lvl. 4]

Vigilance, Traversal, and Sneaking bonus threshold already passed.

So with that decided, he extinguished his fire thoroughly and headed back toward the thing that had been prodding his curiosity since he learned of it.

Some unknown amount of time ago, a group of people had decided to hide from the fog in a “square well” down south. He didn’t know what that meant, but wanted to find out.

While the north held mountains and silent forests, the south was mostly fields. Other than the occasional random post or rusted metal structure of ambiguous purpose, there were few signs that people had ever been there except, perhaps, for the flowers.

The centuries had obscured any real organization of the plants, but the sheer number of them evoked memories of large, immaculate gardens, the kind reserved for royalty or those who wished to be treated as royalty. The paths had been covered by dirt and emerging plants, but he could sense they were under his feet.

These weren’t wild flowers. They were roses and tulips, magnolia trees and orchids.

They had survived abandonment by growing wild, given a home to all sorts of gnats and ant colonies that they relied on for pollination and protected from the fog.

Hollis couldn’t be sure until he found the statues and fountains, often toppled, but he saw the order in the chaos. This had been a very extravagant place. He had gone as far south as he could before he was turned back to the sea by Turpentine Canyon.

In the former flower garden, he only found one modern structure. It was a simple wooden frame with a windlass crank for raising and lowering a bucket. The bucket was still there, hanging upside down. The rope that had once been used to lower it down was missing completely.

The well, as advertised, was square. More than that, it had a stone base and a thick metal cover that still looked sturdy despite its age. It had a simple handle. While it could be chained shut, it was not. The chain lay on the ground unused.

Hollis looked at Willo and shrugged his shoulders.

“You want to open it? I’ll be the lookout,” he asked with a smile.

Willo flew forward, circling the old well and shining on it brightly with Spotlight, as if he were getting ready to fly down the hole. Willo was brave, Hollis realized. Or maybe he didn’t actually have full human intelligence. He seemed to understand there was a hole under the cover.

Around the place, plants had grown thickly in clumps.

[Archaeology lvl. 2] The plants feed on the decayed structure that was once here.

Hollis had figured it was something like that. He could almost imagine the building here, slowly worn down by the sea air and three centuries of hurricanes.

With a hand on his sidearm, he bent down and opened the thick metal cover of the well. It took some doing because of the rust, but he had it open and leaned back soon enough.

“You ready?” he asked.

Willo must have been, because he flew down into the dark at a quick pace, his glow spreading far, but still not reaching the ground for quite some time.

Because Spotlight allowed Hollis to see anything the glow touched in his line of sight, he got a good view of the tunnel downward, even as Willo got deeper and deeper.

It was over a hundred feet deep, which, by Hollis’ estimation, made it deeper than the canyon a few hundred meters west and south or the sea cliffs to the east.

As Willo flew down, the bottom of the well became clear. It was flooded, as expected. It still didn’t make complete sense why anyone would hide down there. Sure, the hefty cover would keep out the fog, but from what Hollis could see, it wasn’t the most hospitable place to stay.

Luckily, he didn’t have to rely on line of sight. There were metal rungs built into the walls of the well, running the length of the hole all the way down.

A few moments later, Willo emerged energetically.

“Was there room down there to move around?” Hollis asked. “Like, if people went down there, is there a place for them to go?”

Willo thought for a moment, then brightened.

“So, yes. Is it a big place?”

Willo brightened again.

Hollis nodded and then looked down into the darkness. “Well, if I’m going down there, I think I should bring provisions.”

He looked out at the fields of flowers.

“I think I saw some wild grapes out there. Should be able to spot some game trails in all this, if the fog hasn’t killed everything here off, too. So… time to go shopping.”

He thought Willo preferred the fields to the hole, too.

He closed the well cover and retraced his steps. He didn’t expect to find deer or boar out this way, though that peltwalker’s existence implied such populations might exist.

He thought that ground squirrels and rabbits were far more likely a quarry. The sea of tall vegetation in the fields would betray any small animals that lived in them to the trained eye. Animals were creatures of habit. They liked to take the same paths around their homes, paths they deemed safest. Over time, those paths could get worn down, either from the dirt being walked on or small plants getting trampled.

So when he found the rabbit run, carved through a large patch of tall grass, he knew he was onto something. [Tracking lvl. 5].

This place was better for some animals trying to survive the fog than the forest. They could burrow around the roots of these bushes and have relative cover from whatever the fog contained. The forest to the north had tall trees but little brush.

His intention was to set up some snares to catch a rabbit or two, but before he could even pull them from his pocket, he saw a large, skittering rabbit jet right through the run he was standing over without paying him any mind at all.

It had no fear of him at first, and when it realized he was skulking about, it turned and stared.

Hollis contemplated trying to take a shot, if not with his gun, then maybe with his sling, but the rabbit was having none of it.

The creature began running right at him. Full speed. Hollis grabbed for his sidearm. He didn’t know if this was some kind of razor rabbit or some such nonsense. His inspector was taking its time on an identification; perhaps Hollis didn’t have enough information yet.

Before he took a shot, the rabbit suddenly ran left.

And right.

Both. It went both ways.

It split into two rabbits, then merged back together once it had passed him. After that, it split again, this time into four rabbits, which each ran around, splitting and merging, and then splitting again.

Hollis laughed. The display was mesmerizing. At first, he thought the creature was duplicating itself, but he soon realized that the rabbits didn’t all look the same. Some were large and thin, others tiny, plump younglings.

[Naturalism lvl. 5] You see Rabbitines running evasive maneuvers. A whole colony can share the space of just one large specimen.

The rabbits were absorbing in and out of one another with speed and precision, doing circles, doubling back, and eventually making their way into distant fields outside of Hollis’s view. The whole display took less than thirty seconds.

“You know what,” he said to Willo. “I don’t think the snares are going to work.”

He decided he would stick to foraging for berries and nuts. Those would keep longer anyway.