[Solo] How Do I Swung Sword?

[Tyonis]

Steven Barnett awoke to a bright, sunny sky, free of clouds. There was a moment of stillness before the panic set in. A queer unfamiliarity pervaded throughout every cell of his body. He reached up to the sky and stared at the dark-skinned hand outstretched before him. He turned the hand over to inspect the palm and was surprised by how... quick it reacted to his thoughts. He slowly curled the fingers into a fist then relaxed them. Amazing. He could almost feel the breeze between his character's fingertips-

"WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING TO ME?!?!"

Steven began to roll around in the dirt, cradling his head in his arms as terror finally began to consume him. He blinked hard, willing the dream to end. Or was it a nightmare? At this point, he didn't care. Whatever had happened, it was clearly unnatural. Impossible. And Steven's mind responded like any sane one would: Vivid denial. He rolled and rolled until he was completely covered in dirt. His eyes stung and he rubbed the grime from them, disbelieving he could even feel pain.

Like many gamers in the EU, Steven wanted to give Elder Tale a shot since its newest expansion sounded like the perfect way to jump into the game. He was just navigating through the Character Creation Window, using its immense flexibility to recreate a younger version of his martial instructor. He hit enter, was getting used to the movement controls and then...

He was staring up at that alien sky.

After a few more minutes of inane panic, Steven pulled himself from the dirt and dusted himself off. It was then he noticed he was in Starter Gear. Plate Armor with his selected longsword and dagger combo strapped to his sides. The elitist in him noted that there would be a heavy off-hand penalty to duel-wielding until after he acquired the proper support skill. He took a few, tentative steps forward, like a baby learning how to walk when a menu filled nearly half of his screen - vision, he amended.

"A WASD tutorial? Seriously? How do I turn this s--t off..?" He muttered.

At first, he tried to will it closed. He imagined himself at his keyboard, mashing ESC like when he would be forced to load cutscenes he'd seen before. When that failed, he retorted to flailing his arms at the semi-transparent menu.

His thrashing proved counterproductive when several other windows popped up, filling his entire vision with random statistics, equipment, skill sets, inventory windows, and empty friend's list and ignore lists. With a snarl, he began stabbing his finger at where he estimated the X buttons would be if the windows were literally floating in front of him.

Ironically, it worked. Soon, his screen was free of clutter. He even customized his HUD to mimic how it used to look in his old MMO. Rather than try to compartmentalize the difference between screen and vision, Steven decided to label them one and the same. For all intents and purposes, they were. If he tried to differentiate them further, he feared he really would go insane. He spent a few more minutes playing with the menus until he could reflexively use them even while on the move or without even looking directly at them.

Steven walked around a bit and began to do a few coordination drills with his sword and dagger to better familiarize himself with his new body. Shadow boxing proved difficult at first. There was weight to his sword and dagger, but his body was far stronger than before, so he had a hard time controlling his swings. Steven trained so long with his own body that he had subconsciously developed ways to compensate for his weaknesses and maximize his strengths. Although he knew the proper sword technique and form, his new body simply did not respond in the same fashion as his old one. It was like the difference between a 30-year old SUV and the newest sports car. The fundamentals of driving were ultimately the same, but performance was practically incomparable.

He spent several hours swinging his swords until he was better acclimated to the body. The repetitive motions gave Steven time to come to terms with his situation and plan to deal with it.

In truth, he didn't mind. Even if he was going insane - or if this was all a dream, Steven slowly realized he'd rather be stuck in Elder Tale than go on living in the 'real world.'

So he chose not to cling to the desire to return. If he was going to be stuck in Elder Tale, he might as well enjoy it. And tackle it like a true MMO player. Which meant planning. Steven - Tyonis - he corrected with a smirk, was a Fox Tail Samurai. His race focused on magical and skill progression and emphasized magic-based statistics over that of the other Good-Aligned Beast Men. Tyonis chose the race mainly because of its tone, however. He liked animals, but hated cats and dogs. Screenshots of higher level Fox Tails had an oriental feel to them, owing to their basis in Eastern mythology, so they better fit the aesthetic of the Samurai.

The class was a different matter entirely. Tyonis loved tanking. Most of all, he loved skill-based tanking as opposed to traditional mitigation tanking. The Samurai provided both. Enmity generating skills, high HP and armor, but with a focus on offensive-tanking and avoiding damage. It was the middle ground between the Guardian's pure mitigation and the Monk's total avoidance.

But the true allure of the Samurai Class was in its innate ability to tackle higher level content as long as the player was adequately informed and prepared. Foresight and insight were two traits that did not belong to the class, but to the person behind the keyboard.

After careful deliberation, Tyonis finally chose the three default Skills he could unlock at level 1: Parry, Bushido: Iaido, and Sword Rain Flurry. This three-skill combo would set the pace for his level progression until he could start Skill Chaining effectively.

He spent a few more hours scrounging around for food and listening in on other newbs who were discussing how best to tackle what was being called the Catastrophe. Windsor Great Wood. Tyonis trailed after few Adventurers out of Londinium, eager to experience what 'real' combat would be like.

(WC: 1,061)

[Tyonis]

Tyonis dipped into a fast roll as the a two-tusked boar stomped through the spot where he once stood. The Samurai recovered quickly, hopping back onto his feet and delivering a hard, downward slash to the creature's exposed sides. It howled in agony and tried to gore Tyonis with a swift swing of its tusks. Once more, the swordsman had to backpedal to avoid the blow.

He grinned. This was real. Whatever doubts he had about his current situation had vanished the moment he attacked this monster. It was a weak one, a mere level 8 Pittered Boar, but Tyonis' curiosity would not be satisfied with grinding on monsters of his level. He needed to test the limits of this new body and the mechanisms of this world - and the best way to do so was to tackle content above his level.

Tyonis took a few calming breaths to slow the thundering of his heart. For now, he relied on hit-and-run tactics to survive this encounter. The boar had no special abilities, meaning it could only attack linearly. As long as he kept his wits about him, Tyonis could carve out the monster's HP bit by bit. Once more, it charged, and once more, Tyonis rolled out of the way, his sword slicing the beast's flesh as he dived past.

That time, he was faster. The more and more he fought, the more acclimated he grew to his body. To this environment. The Samurai came up to his full height and set his feet. Unlike before, he wore a guarded expression, unsure of what may come from his little combat experiment. It was now replaced by a confident smirk, his eyes gleamed hard. His tail, which he had forgotten to keep hidden with his racial skill, slowly shifted left and right in anticipation.

"C'mon you fat piece of shi-"

He got no further as the boar charged at him once more. Rather than dodge, Tyonis sheathed his blade and sprinted forward to meet it. Three steps away, the Samurai suddenly changed course, jumping off a few inches to the boar's flank.

"Urrah!" Tyonis released a breath he held on instinct as he drew his weapon with a speed most humans would have trouble following. His sword howled as it exploded from its sheathe and carved a large chunk of flesh from the boar's legs. The monster tripped over its crippled legs. It rolled painfully, carried by the momentum of its charge. It landed in a crumpled heap, but Tyonis would not let it recover.

He improvised, thrusting his off-hand dagger into the ground, using it as a makeshift anchor to halt his own reckless charge, then pivoted hard, leaning forward into a frantic sprint toward the boar just as it was beginning to pick itself up.

His grin widened as he closed the distance. Along side his animalistic features, his grin appeared sinisterly Cheshire. His voice came out in a snake like hiss.

"Die!"

He thrust the sword deep into the boar's exposed flank. The tip of his blade burst through the other side. But he was not yet satisfied. A second thrust. A third thrust. A forth. And finally, a fifth. His sword gouged out the boar's remaining HP.
The swordsman held his grin even as the boar explode into a myriad of colors and falling gold coins. He lifted his sword to examine its beaten edge. In his reflection, he noticed his expression. It was an expression he couldn't believe belonged to him. Tyonis palmed his face, as if to push the smile back. He took a meditative breath and willed his Fox Tail features away.


He looked up into the sky. The morning was still young.

"Well, I always did like a morning grind..."

(WC: 621)

[Tyonis]

Tyonis sat, staring at the sandwich in his hand. Sure it looked normal. There were no fancy trimmings - just a slice of ham, lettuce, and tomato. He inspected each individual piece of the sandwich and upon finding no flaw, took another bite.

He gagged again.

"What the hell is this?!" He screeched in between gulps of water. At least the water tasted like... water. The Samurai had eaten tablets of medicine with more flavor than his sandwich. Which, coincidentally had the taste and texture of a cardboard box. He pinched the bridge of his nose and all but inhaled what remained of his sandwich and washed it down with all the water he had. He gasped for air and held his stomach, willing its contents to stay down. Was this new body flawed? Did he suffer from some form of ageusia?

Tyonis rubbed his head in frustration. Eating was a basic pleasure of a human's life. Every culture had a unique way of preparing their cuisines and flavoring them. If he could no longer taste that, he would lose a very fundamental part of his humanity. He shivered at the thought. Sure, he had gained an amazing physique and borderline superpowers, but at what cost? He had to find out.

Rather than continue hunting monsters, the Samurai spent the next hour gathering a wide variety of herbs. Or at least, what looked like herbs. Neither of his Subclasses covered forging, so he had to guess at what seemed edible. The result were a few berries and some strangely shaped nuts. Common sense told him to stay away from any mushrooms and leaves.

He briefly wondered how resistant his new body was to poisons. On a whim, he accessed his skill list and noticed that his Pharmacist Crafting Class reduced the duration of poisonous status effects. With a sigh and a shrug, he popped a cherry-looking berry into his mouth and chewed.

"UGGRRAKK..!"

He held his throat with both hands as the berry, along with a bit of his lunch, came flying out. After catching his breath and wiping off his lips, Tyonis deduced two things: one, that berry was probably not suppose to be eaten raw and two he could taste both the berry and his own vomit. That meant his sense of taste wasn't as damaged as he thought. He decided not to push his luck and try out the other nuts and berries he gathered. If Tyonis had known he would be stuck in a magical forest, he would have enrolled in a boy scout program just to learn some basic survival skills. Hopefully he'd have the opportunity to try out some good tasting food in the future - or at least food with taste.

After collecting himself, the Samurai returned to the battlefield. Or at least, what passed as one at his level. He spent most of his time trying to perfect the transition between skills, doing his absolute best to reduce the lag time between one skill and the next by drilling the movements into his body as opposed to saying and thinking of the skills he wanted to use.

At first, Tyonis was consumed by the thrill of combat and the difficulty of repeatedly chaining skills. But as he continued slaughtering the beasts of Windsor Greatwood, the MMO veteran began to grow bored. The results were undeniable. He no longer gave any of his targets room to retaliate. His attacks blended together in a flash of swordsmanship that bordered on superhuman. If this was what he was capable of now, he couldn't imagine what it would be like with the more advanced skills and higher tiers.

He sheathed his blade as the latest of slain boars shattered into gold and pyreflies. So absorbed in the mindless grind was he that Tyonis had neglected the most important aspect of speed-leveling: efficient use of time.

He folded his arms and recalled each kill. The boars provided the most challenge. Rabbits offered the least and Slimes were a middle ground. However, if one prioritized efficiency over all else, boars were the worst type of monster to hunt at his level. It took him all of his skills and a good chunk of his MP to ill just one. Sure, it gave more EXP than the other monsters in the area, but the time it took to find and slay them outweighed that advantage. Rabbits on the other hand were slain in a matter of seconds and were far more common.

In the time it took to find and kill one boar, he could have slain six rabbits. The numbers didn't lie.

With his next course of action set, Tyonis lightly gripped the hilt of his sword and began his slaughter of countless cute rodents.

(WC: 795)

[Tyonis]

With a brutal snarl, Tyonis cut down yet another add and backpedaled just as a club swiped at the space where he once stood. He swung his blade in a forward arc, painting the grass red with a swathe of fresh rabbit blood. He let out a winded exhale, trying to calm his breathing and his heart rate. A mix of curiosity and boredom had created this particular predicament: rather than stick to low level Rabbits, Tyonis had opted to find one of the rare Enemic Busters, an Elite version of the Rabbits he slaughtered. At first, he wanted to simply test how he'd fare against an Elite Monster. Now he was farming its unique ability to call two rabbits every few seconds. This meant he no longer had to search for rabbits thus reducing the downtime between kills. On the other hand, it meant he would be stuck in perpetual combat with no break.

The disadvantage was starting to become painfully apparent. His whole body was littered with bruises he couldn't see. His Starter Plate Armor provided little protection against an Elite Mob so far above his current level. His muscles ached from overuse. Although he had not taken too much damage prior to this encounter, he was feeling the strain from a whole day of combat. His movements, once sharp and graceful, were growing far more brutish and desperate. His Mana was low and his HP was just above half.

His musings were broken when the Buster spun twice and lunged, swinging the club it wielded with its long tail. After being hit with it once, the Samurai recognized the rabbit's signature stun-skill. With a warcry, Tyonis met the monster's charge with one of his own. He dropped the dagger in his off-hand and gripped his sword with both. Holding it like a bat, he swung with a fierce twist of his hips, Parrying the rabbit's attack with one of his own. Wooden splinters flew into his face, forcing him to clench one eye shut. He kept the other open to track the rabbit's movements, enduring the stinging pain as dust and debris flew into it.

Before it could land and recover from the impact, Tyonis thrust his sword into the rabbit's chest while it still hung in midair. He repeated the practiced motion; Sword Rain Flurry becoming all but instinct now. The rabbit was larger than its brethren, the size of a small child, but it was still quite light. Rather than retract his blade after the last thrust, Tyonis gripped the hilt with both hands and swung hard, flicking the rabbit off his sword and throwing it against the nearest tree.

It twitched.

With a bloodthirsty roar, Tyonis lunged at the downed creature, delivering a brutal over-head chop straight down its skull, cleaving it clear in half and erasing whatever HP it had left.

Even as the monster vanished into gold and pyreflies, Tyonis maintained his guard, wary. He was unsure if other rabbits could swarm him even after the Buster was dead. After a good minute, he finally fell on his back, his chest heaving up and down. Despite his exhaustion, Tyonis wore a victorious smile.

"Ha....Haha...AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

(WC: 535)

[Tyonis]

Tyonis flew through the air and landed in a crumpled heap, his HP dropping below the 10% mark. He gasped, futilely gripping his chest in an attempt to assuage the pain. He managed to lift his chin off the ground trying to push back the painful haze that blurred his vision. Using his sword as a prop, he pulled himself to a weak stand. Just one stupid mistake cost him almost his whole HP bar. He should have known that would be the price to pay when tackling content so far above your level.

The Crag Cow snorted, preparing to unleash another charge. This time, it would be fatal.

He wore a brittle smirk. He used his left arm as a shield to brace against the last charge, so it hung limp at his side, fractured in several places and bent at a crude angle. His leg was twisted from the hard fall, so he could no longer dodge and his vision remained opaque no matter how hard he tried to blink it away, which was indicative of severe cranial trauma.

Tyonis closed his eyes and accepted defeat. The Crag Cow charged, its horns readied to impale the Samurai.

'Steven, listen. If you are ever forced to fight for your life, you must cling onto the hope of victory until your very last breath.' Tyonis chuckled at the old memory. How strange it would come now, right before his death. He assessed the sitaution to the best of his ability. He was unable to move and would probably succumb to his injuries on the field even if he somehow managed to slay the monster.

'There is no way to achieve victory,' he replied to the shadow of his mentor.

'If you can't even do that, at least take them down with you!'

The swordman's eyes snapped open. With a revitalized roar containing every ounce of his remaining strength, Tyonis thrust his sword hilt-deep into the monster's neck even as it impaled him across its horns. The Samurai grit his teeth against the pain, ignoring the rapid decrease in his own HP. Since he was unable to retrieve his sword, he clutched his offhand dagger with both hand and stabbed it repeatedly into the top of the Crag Cow's neck, unleashing an improvised form of Sword Rain Flurry.

'Die. Die. Die. Die! DiE! dIe! dIE! DIe!'

DIEDIEDIEIDDIEIDEIDIEDIEDIEIDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEIDDIEIDEIDIEDIEDIEIDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEIDDIEIDEIDIEDIEDIEIDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEIDDIEIDEIDIEDIEDIEIDIEDIEDIEDIEDIDIEDIE DIEDIEDIEIDDIEIDEIDIEDIEDIEIDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE.

As the Crag Cow's HP vanished, Tyonis laughed hysterically, his voice twisting into madness as the pain destroyed his sanity. He howled until a soothing darkness took him.

---

The sound of a great choir echoed through his ears and forced him awake. The Samurai's eyes slid slowly open; his vision was greeted by a beautiful rainbow of paned glass hanging overhead. He rolled his head to the side. A priest stood patiently, a warm smile on his face. Tyonis recognized those robes: the Lander Priest from Westminster Abbey.

"Welcome back, Adventurer." Those lines were soft. Graceful. Practiced. But most of all, they were eerily familiar; they were ones often offered to those that were defeated. As if the consolation would provide some bit of solace.

Tyonis' reply was hoarse. And he tiredly shut his eyes.

"Ah? That's right..." He took a deep breath as a phantom pain began to creep from his chest where the bulls horns ran him through. He didn't realize it, but tears were streaming down his cheeks as he gripped his chest, groping for the holes that should be there.

"I died, didn't I?"

(WC: 585)