A Tyrant, Sort Of

Struggling through the thick shell of a dragon egg, gasping for breath, and realizing she’d been reincarnated as a fire-breathing lizard, Sable would say she panicked for a reasonable length of time.

More than reasonable, even. She’d give herself credit. Only like, twenty minutes. That was pretty good. Most people would’ve been a gibbering mess for at least an hour, dying and having to crack out of an egg, reborn. She didn’t even pinch herself to wake up. Not that she could, considering the whole ‘lacking fingers’ deal, but—you get the point.

Anyway. Panic session over, that meant Sable had to address the reality of the situation. That one moment she’d been veering off course in her crappy 2002 sedan, headed to class, and the next she’d woken in a dragon egg. Dead. In a new body.

Dead, though. That quickly? Her existence ended? Just like that? But what about … everything?

Fortunately, she had plenty to keep her mind off the whole, ‘I’ll never see my family again’. As far as masking trauma went, gangly lizard limbs and being reborn in a dark cave was pretty darn effective.

So. Sable took stock of the situation.

First. Her body. That had taken a second to get used to. Had been the most immediately freak-out-inducing aspect of everything, at least to start with—even more than being crammed in a dark space, a prison she had later identified as an egg. Her egg. 

Beyond being difficult to control, having a new body, though similar in some ways—two front legs that were sort of arms, and two hind legs that were sort of, erm, regular legs—was different enough to have alarm bells ringing. Luckily, the disorienting panic had turned into thrashing, which had helped her escape from her surprisingly solid prison.

She’d gotten half-way used to everything. Though moving felt distinctly wrong, like her body wasn’t meant for this, it also came intuitively. Instinctual in the literal sense. No, she couldn’t explain the contradiction. That was reincarnation for you. You try turning into a giant lizard.

Second on the docket was where she’d woken. The cave was dark, and the glare of the opening—far in the distance—too bright to make out the details of what lay outside. At least there was an exit. She wasn’t trapped a million miles underground. Small blessings?

Third, finally, was the weirdest part.

One of her first questions upon waking had been, what’s happening? I’m trapped? What is this?

The third thought in specific was what she was talking about. Because, bizarrely, she’d gotten an answer.

[Dragon Egg]

It had dropped straight into her head. No monotone voice, not her own internal dialogue, just there. Like … a pop-up in her brain, distinct, not visual, not audible, but clear anyways. Again, not something she could describe. It was fuckery to levels she’d never experienced. 

Shortly after cracking through her brittle-yet-powerful confinements, another horrified question had popped into her head, staring down at her scaly white limbs: 

What am I?

The answer she had received had been more thorough than the brief, though helpful, [Dragon Egg].

***

Sable

Juvenile White Dragon

Level 1 - Unclassed

[ Hoard ] - BARREN. 

[ Notoriety ] - UNKNOWN.

Stats (base):

Might - 20 (200)

Grace - 20 (200)

Resilience - 20 (200)

Intellect - 20 (200)

Wisdom - 20 (200)

***

So, uh. Yeah. That had taken a second to sink in. Still hadn’t, really. She had pushed it out of mind and panicked about the more important stuff: that she’d died and been reborn as an honest-to-god dragon. It was only now, having steadied herself, that she had the opportunity to digest the strangest part of her reincarnation. The ‘RPG-like’, lacking more elegant terminology, system that had been thrust onto her.

She had about a million questions, so she picked one and got to it. 

What does ‘hoard’ mean?

She wasn’t sure why it had stuck out over the other bizarre items in her … ‘character sheet’ … but it had. She also didn’t know if she needed to phrase it as a question to get the answer dropped into her head, but better to stick to what she knew.

***

~ Hoard ~

Your hoard is BARREN. You lack a single gold coin, you miserable, worthless wretch. What is life without riches? Without proof of conquest? Without a glorious mass of sparkling wealth to gaze upon and know your worth? Pathetic. Ignominious. You must rectify this immediately. A dragon is nothing without a hoard.

[ 90% REDUCTION TO ALL STATS ]

***

Bizarrely, the words washed through her, inflicting not just knowledge, but emotion. She felt the truth of the claims, the reality of her worthless existence. Not even a single gold coin. She was a dragon—a flying fortress, a conqueror of everything she purveyed—and she lacked a single gold coin? Was there any existence more shameful? A worm had more pride. At least they made no claims to greatness, unlike her pathetic, useless, miserable—

Sable shook the thoughts away. The emotion lingered, but it was replaced by a different one: uneasiness. Obviously, she didn’t think any of that. She hardly knew what it meant, contextually speaking. But inspecting the stat had influenced her mind? Creepy. 

Terrifying, even. She’d keep those interactions to a minimum. At least the inserted emotions hadn’t been overwhelming. Enough to hammer in the point—because really, she was such a pathetic, gross lizard for not having a single gold coin—but not enough to influence her in a meaningful way.

The unsettling experience made Sable hesitant to inspect the next item of interest, [Notoriety]. But she was at an information deficit, here, and it needed to be done.

***

~ Notoriety ~

You are UNKNOWN. You are a ghost, an unseen entity. What is life without horrified adulation? Without striking terror into the hearts of men? Might and dominance. You must make your name synonymous with these ideals. Until then, you are less than nothing.

[ 90% REDUCTION TO EXPERIENCE GAIN ] 

***

She knew what would happen, this time. She grimaced as the truth of the words washed through her. Almost a full half-hour old, and she hadn’t subjugated an unwilling populace, yet? What were these teeth and claws for? Her intimidating form and impervious scales? God, so pathetic.

Er. ‘Subjugated an unwilling populace’?

She would definitely be keeping these [Inspect]s to a minimum. Look, like any reasonable girl, she wanted pathetic mortals to run screaming when they heard her name, but she shouldn’t go about subjugating people. There were compromises she could make. Having a bad reputation was important, but that didn’t mean she had to be a bad person. 

Something about her thoughts didn’t seem wholly reasonable. Having a bad reputation was … important? She shook off the vestiges of the influencing thoughts, coming back to her senses.

Ergh. That was seriously weird.

Though, she really would have to address those two stats, because the detriments were horrible. Ninety percent reduction to stats and experience gain? She didn’t have a great idea of what that meant, specifically, but she was a twenty-first century girl, and nerdier than some. She knew video games in more than a peripheral manner. She wouldn’t stand a chance with debuffs like those.

How she would go about fixing them? Well. That would take significantly more knowledge than she had, right now. She was at an information deficit. Couldn’t make plans when she hadn’t a clue what was going on.

Which meant more exploration with her fascinatingly convenient [Inspect] ability. What was the next target? Stats were a good choice, but not as much as the ‘level one’ and ‘unclassed’ indicators. She could put two and two together. This world had ‘classes’. Did she pick one, or would she simply receive it on leveling up? And how did leveling up work, anyway? Killing stuff? 

She focused on the matter at hand.

What does ‘unclassed’ mean? she asked the helpful void answering her questions.

That didn’t work, so she generalized.

What are my available classes?

***

PATH OF THE WHITE DRAGON

- Mountain Warlord

- Frostfire Sorceress

- Crystalline Knife

***

Sable digested that—but only for a second. Almost as soon as the information appeared in her head, a horrifying sense of dread doused her like a bucket of ice water. She spun, claws scraping against the stone floor, to identify what her instincts had supernaturally alerted her to.

It was a monster.

A hulking, bipedal creature had emerged from the depths of the cave, and it glared at Sable with two curious, bloodthirsty eyes. She had felt its murderous intent the moment its gaze had turned her way. 

[ Mountain Troll - Lv ?? ]

The gray-skinned creature wore ragged leathers and a decaying loincloth. In its left hand, an enormous, gnarled wooden club drooped to the floor. The size of the creature was insane. Or was Sable just small? She was a juvenile dragon, not a grown one, but even so. The troll towered over her. Its club was the size of her body.

And, if she couldn’t even read the monster’s level, she didn’t stand a chance in a fight. That wasn’t even mentioning how she didn’t know how to fight. She’d gotten a bare understanding of how to move her limbs, but that was several stages from being ready to scuffle. For her life, no less.

Sable didn’t get to stare, aghast, at her invader for long. An ominous growl echoed through the cave, spittle flying from the deranged-looking monster’s lips. The noise raised to a roar, reverberating in the hollow space, then, heaving its club up, the troll charged, loping toward her with an awkward, terrifying gait.

Sable’s body knew what to do, even if her brain had locked up.

She skedaddled.