Progenitor's Burden

"Omigodit'ssocold," Sinclair squeaked, his voice coming out remarkably high pitched in the freezing cold. Hang on, let me try that again. "It's a bit nippy, isn't it", he reiterated, in a ridiculous attempt to sound as deep-voiced as possible. He could see his breath fogging up, and steam rolled off of him from the temperature difference. And here I thought my stats meant I wouldn't be bothered by the cold. Turns out, I probably can't actually get a cold or even get frostburn, but it doesn't feel any more pleasant!

He looked down at Chewy and Leia, who had apparently grown in height while his back was turned. "Brrr. Is this cold too much for you two?"

Leia didn't respond, clearly distracted by looking around, so Chewy responded, "Our fur gives us a lot of natural protection. Plus we both have the inherited blood-line trait of cold resistance."

Interesting. I wonder if they can learn new skills? "Do either of you have any other skills or abilities I need to know about?"

"We just have the cold resistance, and we share a howl ability. Our bite causes ongoing bleeding damage, as well", Chewy stated through their link.

Leia, finally concentrating on the conversation, chimed in, "I have more skills than my brother. I also have a speed boost, which lets me run fast for reduced stamina drain. I also get a bonus to critical attacks if I'm in stealth when I make them."

So in gamer terms, they're not tanks or healers, they're the DPS. I guess I'm the tank. Chewy is more like a fighter, and I guess Leia is more of a rogue with her stealth ability. We're going to need a healer and possibly some ranged attackers if we're going to be a well-rounded team. Sinclair decided it was time to check the quest details again, to see if there was new information now that he was in the right place.

Quest: Retrieve What Was Taken

Description: Time's up, Sinclair. You don't have the option of taking this slowly any more. Your friends have been taken. You have no choice, you're going to have to rescue them. I'm sorry.

This quest is mandatory and has been automatically accepted

Goal: Rescue your friends

Completion: 0/3

Rewards:

Unknown

He quickly explained the details to Chewy and Leia.

"My friends, I need your help, now more than ever. My three closest friends from my home world have been captured and imprisoned. We have to find them. They do not have access to the system, nor do they have abilities like we do. They could be killed by the creatures here with little more than a glance. I'm not entirely sure who has taken them - they seem really apologetic, but I'm not entirely sure that they're not the ones who actually took them. I want the two of you to spread out, find their scent, and track them as best you can. Avoid anything that looks like it wants to fight; this is about speed above all else. I will meet the both of you back up near the ridge over there."

The rendezvous area Sinclair had pointed at was about 3 or 4 miles away. Chewy and Leia both nodded their heads and streaked off in different directions, heads down and sniffing the snow.

Sinclair continued on foot, and settling his gear around himself, he started trotting in the direction of the rendezvous point. I guess I just need to get to the high point and scout from there. Without a wolf's nose, there's not much else I can do.

There were no trails, so pushing through the light amount of snow was the only path forward. This feels like running on the beach. I wish I had snowshoes. Bored within seconds, he tried to reach out to Chewy and Leia via the link and found that he could still talk to them. They had nothing to report, but Chewy remarked that there were large prints in the snow with an odd smell to them.

It was quiet here. If not for the noise Sinclair was making there would be no sounds at all, except for the wind blowing through the trees, causing the occasionally creaking sound. Despite being night, the multiple moons allowed for so much light it might as well be daytime. Although, I wonder how much of that is actually moon light, and how much is the improved night vision I got with my path. I think Path of the Wolf has some hidden effects, since it didn't say anything about improved night vision.

As he ran up to the meeting area, he found Chewy and Leia already there, waiting. He reached down and scratched both of them behind the ears. Seeing their tiredness, he chose to let them rest for a few minutes. Well, that's a big tree... I did say I wanted to get to a high point.

Minutes later, he was perched on a sturdy branch near the top of the tree. The ridge was surrounded by snow and trees as far as the eye could see. Slowly, Sinclair turned his head, until suddenly his focus was caught by a flash in his peripheral vision. It was near the base of the mountain wall. There's definitely something there. Sinclair clambered down to the ground and let his companions know what he had seen, "I want the three of us to head there immediately."

It took just over three hours to get to where Sinclair had seen the light. I'm so glad I've got a clock on my display. I'm fed up with destroying every watch I've owned. Following the wall down they could make out a cave mouth in the distance, a flickering light shining out of it. As silently as possible, the three of them crept towards the light, until Leia—the stealthiest amongst them—was able to peer around the edge.

"I've found them." The mental communication carried more than just the words as Leia sounded excited and also a little relieved.

Sinclair decided it would be funny to make his entrance one to remember. He strode into the mouth of the cave, hands on hips, and struck what he thought was a heroic pose. "So I see you guys went camping without me. That was kind of rude."

He was hit in the face with a rock.

"Son of a...! Why did you throw a rock at me?" And that scream… Ed, come on man."

Ed looked at Sinclair, face engraved with shock. "Sinclair, Is that you? What the hell are you doing here? Why are you dressed like that? Also, what the actual hell is going on?" Ed was—rather unsurprisingly, given the circumstances—getting riled up. Whoops, maybe I didn't quite think through the level of freaking out they'd be going through. At least this solves the problem of how I'm going to tell them about what's been going on.

Sinclair looked around to—before anything else—make sure his friends were okay. Ed was freaking out, understandably. Alice stood almost pressed up against Rose, eyes rimmed with red, clearly in need of physical comfort. Rose, who only ever cried with anger and never with sadness, was on the verge of tears. Uh oh, she's furious. I might be in trouble.

Settling his friends down and making sure they were warm and comfortable, Sinclair began to explain everything that had happened, albeit needing to skip over much of the story until they were in safer environs. Once he reached the part of the story where he met Chewy and Leia, he—begging his friends not to freak out—invited the two animals inside.

Chewy and Leia had been patiently standing guard outside, waiting to come in. On their cue, they walked in and sat down next to Sinclair. Rose visibly melted, her anger fading away. Well, the animal lover loves animals!

"Rose, if you want to pet them you are more than welcome to. I already warned them you might and apparently they are more than fine with it. I'm an 'insufficient tummy rubber' according to Mr and Miss demanding over here. The two wolves didn't have a shred of guilt on their faces as they went and laid down next to Rose and Alice, who easily made up for their lack of tummy scritches. Sinclair rolled his eyes and got back to his story.

When he finished, Rose spoke, anger bubbling beneath the surface of her words. "So are we being used as pawns to get you to prove your worth? Or are we meant to be proving our worth too? I'm a bit confused by this. You said the message said 'sorry', but also it sounds like they kidnapped us, because they're 'out of time'. Am I getting it right?"

Sinclair's danger sense was going off, which seemed a little ridiculous. Rose could be ferocious, sure, but she shouldn't be triggering such a strong sense of danger. He'd planned on telling them after he'd got back to Earth, after all.

Quest Update: Retrieve What Was Taken

Description: Time's up, Sinclair. You don't have the option of taking this slowly any more. Your friends have been taken. You have no choice, you're going to have to rescue them. I'm sorry.

Goal: Protect your friends

Further Information: You have found your friends. Keep them safe. Wolves without packs do not survive the winter. You can do this, Sinclair.

Wave: 1 of 4

One minute timer has started.

59 seconds remaining

"Shit. That's what my sense of danger was going on about," Sinclair said, his voice tense. "Guys, we have less than a minute until something attacks us. I need to protect you three—you're the most important people in the world to me. But… but I don't want you defenseless; I know you can all fight."

He reached into his inventory, pulling out weapons and armor, and dumped them on the ground before his friends. "Take whatever you can use," he instructed, walking to the cave mouth with hurried steps. At the entrance, he stacked a row of javelins against the wall and began to prepare himself, at least mentally, for what was to come.

Ed nudged a javelin with his foot, his expression caught between disbelief and worry. "Dude, what do you expect us to do here? Schoolyard fights were one thing, but this is entirely different."

Behind him, Alice had already begun equipping some of the armor, her movements quick but increasingly unsteady. She propped a spear against the wall nearby, her wild, unfocused eyes betraying her growing panic. She moved with mechanical determination, as though sheer motion could keep her from freezing.

"Sin, we need to know more," Rose said, her voice tight with fear as she clutched a javelin so hard her knuckles turned white. "What's coming?"

Sinclair turned back to them, his face etched with frustration and regret. "I—I don't know exactly. I'm sorry—so, so sorry—that you're involved in this. I'll do my best to make sure you don't actually need to use these things. But if you do, you have to commit to the action." He rubbed his hands over his scalp and let out a sigh, barely able to contain his anger at the System for putting his friends in such a dangerous situation. "I have to go. I love you all. Just trust me a little longer, and we'll get through this."

Turning to his direwolves, he called, "Chewy, Leia, come here." The wolves padded over, their eyes locked on him, ready for direction. Sinclair knelt, placing a hand on each of them. "I'll go and do my job preventing anything from getting in here, but for me to be fully focused, I need to know my friends are safe. Please stay here and keep them back as best you can. I need you—the three of them, and you two—safe."

Chewy let out a soft growl of acknowledgment, while Leia's gaze flicked toward the cave entrance, already standing guard. Sinclair stood, gripping his weapon tightly, and stepped into the growing darkness beyond the cave mouth.

Sinclair watched the countdown tick down to zero.

With an almighty flash, several beams of light lanced down from the sky and smashed into the ground. Right, it looks like the bad guys are into superhero landings? Quickly, Sinclair counted 6 impacts, and desperately hoped that meant it was 6 individual enemies and not 6 groups of them. After all, with his strength, he could far more easily be overwhelmed with numbers than with individual force.

Stepping forward, he activated Yggdrasil's Authority, imbuing himself and his companions—at least, the lupine ones—with a significant stat boost and a surge of morale. I hope this will fortify their resolve. In the tense quiet, the sound of the approaching enemy was unmistakable; they made no effort to conceal their thunderous approach.

In front of Sinclair, a colossal figure burst through the dense foliage. A towering humanoid, it had skin of a deep, dark green hue. It stood over eight feet tall, looming over the already-massive Sinclair. In one huge hand it clutched a hefty club. The creature threw its head back and unleashed a ferocious roar that showcased its curved, yellow tusks. The roar reverberated through the forest, and was answered by echoing roars from various directions. Six enemies, not six groups. But they're sure big ones.

As Sinclair swiftly drew his large ax, he began to pour energy into the weapon, preparing for the imminent clash. With the air thick with tension, and anticipation, Sinclair activated his Valkyrie's Gaze skill.

Name: [Error: Does not translate, the closest equivalent is "Raargh"]

Race: Ice Troll

Level: 26

Health: 2400/2400

Description: Ice Trolls are awe-inspiring behemoths from the coldest reaches of the mythical realms. Their massive frames are well over eight feet tall and are layered with a thick hide of an azure hue, suggesting a coat of perpetual frost. An individual Ice Troll's sinewy limbs grant it immense strength and an intimidating presence.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The head of the Ice Troll is crowned with jagged icicles that mimic the look of a frozen, spiky crown. It has eyes like shards of ice, simultaneously hard, piercing and cold. In some cases, its case can cause a fear effect, even to the bravest of warriors.The mouth is lined with sharp, icicle-like teeth, which can destroy anything short of diamonds. In their own language, Ice Trolls are remarkably articulate, but to all other races their language is made up of a variety of roars which resist translation.

Sinclair had spent a chunk of his youth reading books on ancient legends and mythologies, so he had an immediate theory about where they were. A norse theme so far, plus the freezing cold and being attacked by Ice Trolls; I'm pretty sure we're in Jotunheim. If they fit the stereotype, the Ice Trolls would be extremely savage, with a one track mind for violence. However, they'd also be incredibly—fundamentally and excruciatingly—stupid. He could use that to his advantage. On the other hand, I've not fought anything with this kind of level before.

There was only one troll in sight, but it was advancing rapidly. Too stupid to wait for reinforcement though. I have to be grateful for that. Sinclair leapt forward with the ax raised; he slammed it forward while triggering his Cleave. Even as it reared back for its own initial attack, his first strike took the troll across the stomach, opening a tremendously wide tear. The impact of the Cleave shocked the troll into dropping its weapon, leaving it to grasp at its stomach wound with one hand and attempt to swipe at Sinclair with the other. The talons on the Ice Troll's hand whistled past Sinclair's face by inches. That was so close even the air hit me hard. Spinning his ax behind him, he lowered his center of gravity and swung the ax into the Troll's knee, severing the limb at the weakest part.

As the Ice Troll began to fall—remarkably like a tree—Sinclair leapt back, then lunged forward, landing on the back of the troll. With a savage yell, he buried his ax into the Ice Troll's skull, just behind its left ear. I always got annoyed in games when you could shoot an arrow in someone's eye and yet they only lost 20% of their health. It looks like this system acknowledges fatal criticals better. Pausing for a moment, just to be sure, Sinclair stepped off his enemy when it became clear that it would not be rising without an entirely unpredictable appearance of necromancy.

Sinclair paused for a moment, a slight cringe on his face. Please say I didn't tempt fate. Don't introduce necromancy now. Nothing happened, and he relaxed.

His relaxation did not last for long, as two more Ice Trolls crashed through to the right. No rest for the wicked. Sinclair charged another Cleave and launched himself at the beasts. While a glorious hit, he received a glancing blow in response, which sent him spinning to the ground. He did take a glancing blow. Nothing had hit him that hard before, and Sinclair found himself disconcerted by the strength of his enemies. I need to be quicker than this!

Propelling himself back to his feet, Sinclair danced between the two trolls, leading them to get tangled in each other. The momentary breathing room allowed him time to strike at both trolls, scoring deep wounds. The amount of blood they were losing was not sustainable, and both trolls were staggering around woozy due to significant blood loss. As soon as they had collapsed to their knees, Sinclair took advantage of their weakness. He dashed back between the two Ice Trolls and removed both their heads in a balletic spinning strike. Regenerate that.

In the moments before the remaining trolls arrived, Sinclair began to feel a familiar, fiery sensation ignited within his chest—the primal urge to engage in combat. It lent him swiftness and lethality, enhancing his warrior instincts. With inhuman synchronicity, he charged at the oncoming trolls as they appeared, speed making him a blur on the battlefield that easily drew attention away from the cave. With precise timing, he unleashed an overcharged Cleave, the energy surging from his ax into a radiant arc. The trolls, huddled too closely together, fell prey to his relentless assault. His weapon sliced through the air, connecting with all three in a single, fluid motion. The flanking trolls received deep, rending gashes across their thighs, their massive forms stumbling past Sinclair, while the one in the center suffered the most grievous wound, its legs severed at mid thigh.

Sinclair pivoted gracefully, permitting the wounded beasts to stagger onward. He seized the moment, aiming to bury his ax into the mortally wounded troll. But poor luck intervened—a wild swing from another troll's club clipped him on the side of the head. Sent into a dizzying spin, he crashed to the ground atop the downed troll. His helmet, a silent guardian, likely spared him from death, yet the impact still shaved over 50 points from his health pool.

Rolling onto his side, Sinclair mustered every ounce of strength he had to make a devastating swing, even from such a compromised position. His ax hacked into the back of the prone troll's head, though the task was arduous without leverage, and required more effort than he preferred.

Finally freeing himself, he scrambled to his feet and charged towards the remaining adversaries. His Cleave ability, once again primed and pulsating with power, was ready for use. As the trolls struggled to rise, Sinclair executed his move with exemplary precision. The ax's blade met the back of their skulls with a crushing force, bringing an abrupt end to the first wave of the onslaught.

Panting heavily from the exertion, Sinclair stood still amid the aftermath. A quick glance at his interface revealed a respite, but only a brief one: four minutes until the next wave. With no time to lose, he jogged back to the cave entrance.

Peering into the cavern's depths, he caught sight of his companions huddled at the far end. Their eyes, wide with shock at witnessing the battle, gleamed within the shadowy interior. Alice, in particular, seemed shaken, her complexion a ghostly shade of white. Sinclair's concern spiked as he considered the possibility of her fainting. It would have been understandable given the scene she just witnessed unfolding.

"You know... I was a bit jealous at first, after all you have told us. But if that's what you have to go through, then I am not sure I like the idea after all." Ed told him as he walked through the entrance.

"Sorry man, but I have 4 minutes until the next wave and I need to catch you guys up. I'm fine, just a little banged up; don't worry about me. Please, just stay ready, and listen to Chewy and Leia if they try to get you to do something. Don't forget that I can talk to them, so they might be trying to pass on a message from me." Sinclair drank a little water and snarfed down a couple of energy bars, giving his health and mana the chance to top back off. Casually checking his notifications, while he had the time, he was floored by the results.

Enemies Killed: Ice Troll x6

Rewards:

Gold Coins x45

Regenerative Pants of the Troll (Rare) x1

New Item: Regenerative Pants of the Troll (Rare)

Description: The Regenerative Pants of the Troll are masterfully crafted from the thick, enchanted hide of a troll. This extraordinary leather forms a patchwork of deep, earthy greens and rich, soil browns. It has a natural resilience that makes it impervious to minor scratches and scuffs. The surface is soft to the touch, yet the underlying durability is palpable, reminiscent of ancient bark that has withstood the test of time.

Each leg of the pants is inlaid with a network of vibrant, emerald runes that pulse gently with a life force of their own. These runes form an intricate pattern that traces the flow of the regenerative magic that runs throughout the fabric. The seams are stitched with threads of silver-thistle, a rare material known for its magical conductivity; this sewing complements the troll leather's restorative properties.

Effects:

Self Repairing

Increased Health Regeneration in and out of combat

Constitution +12

You have leveled up!

You have leveled up!

As you are a human, you receive plus one to Willpower and Endurance each time you level up

As you are a human, you receive ten free points, for two level ups, to spend on the stats of your choice

To level up, please assign your points.

Donning the Regenerative Pants of the Troll, Sinclair could feel an immediate change. The fabric seemed imbued with a palpable energy, reminiscent of the aura surrounding trolls (who were, of course, renowned for their regenerative magic). The pants not only granted him the ability to regenerate health during battle but were self-repairing and bolstered his constitution significantly, bringing it above 50; Hang on. When my other stats have hit 50, I've noticed a discernible transformation, and now there's nada. Maybe it doesn't count when it's gear causing me to hit the milestone, rather than my innate stats?

The timer was rapidly dwindling, mere seconds away from hitting zero. Rising, Sinclair strode confidently into the night, positioning himself just as the countdown ceased. This time the flashes of light were larger, appearing almost simultaneously and with far closer proximity. And to Sinclair's surprise, there were only three. Is that a good sign or an absolutely terrible one? I have no idea what to expect.

Scanning the forest in front of him, he looked for any sign of movement. His enhanced vision showed its worth when he caught sight of a lithe figure darting from tree to tree. He couldn't make out much, but, whatever it was, it was coming in fast. He swapped his large ax out for his hatchets, knowing that speed, rather than strength, needed to be his priority this time.

With barely any disturbance to the snowfall they landed upon, three figures dropped to the ground, just outside the tree line . They were tall and lean. Their skin was light blue, and all three had long white hair pulled back to display long pointed ears of a darker hue. Sinclair fired off Valkyrie's Gaze as soon as they landed.

Name: [hidden]

Race: Snow Elf

Level: 49

Health: 1800/1800

Description: Snow Elves, also known as the Alabaster Guardians of the North, are a resplendent race of elves renowned for an ethereal beauty and their harmonious existence with the frigid landscapes they call home. Their skin possesses a luminous, pale quality reminiscent of snow-covered expanses, and their eyes shimmer with the blue luster blue of crystalline ice. With hair flowing like the purest white of winter's first snowfall, Snow Elves are often said to be the living embodiment of winter's grace.

The rightmost Snow Elf was level 50; the other two were level 49. None carried a shield; they merely carried long, slender swords over their shoulders. They were all dressed similarly, in dark leathers that criss-crossed their bodies. He started to move forward to engage them when the middle one spoke.

"Level 0?! We got sent out here to kill a level 0 Human? There is no challenge in this! We were promised a worthy fight. This barbarian couldn't fight his way out of a grain sack."

Wow, he sounds like a stereotype. Posh, pretentious, the whole works.

A second elf responded. "He's just standing there looking as dumb as all humans do. I bet he doesn't even know how to speak."

Sinclair snapped back "This barbarian can speak just fine, you… you pointy eared snow rat! For someone who has come here to kill me, you seem to be surprisingly reticent to actually pull your swords out of your ass." Right, that should do it.

All three elves looked at him like he had grown an extra head, as the color of their skin at the neckline slowly turned a deeper blue. With visible anger, they each equipped a second sword and advanced, dual wielding.

At the last second, hoping to catch them out, Sinclair charged up both ax heads, ready to launch a double Cleave. All three elves went to swing at the same time, raising their weapons up high. Clearly they had no doubt that a level 0 enemy would fall immediately, as they had taken zero precautions, and just walked up to him like he was a helpless babe.

Perhaps they should have felt a trickle of fear when he didn't run away. Perhaps they should have reconsidered their approach when he began to smile. Perhaps, even, they should have thought about defending themselves, when the twin axes he held began glowing like a furnace. If nothing else, perhaps they should not have ignored him when he swung his axes. But of course, a level zero enemy wouldn't even scratch them, magic skill or not, so they made no iota of an attempt to change their behavior.

The explosion of energy from the double, fully-charged Cleave detonated in their faces with their defenses completely down. The elves to the left and right were shoved backwards a foot, while the central elf was sent rolling backwards, health pool halved in under a second.

Spinning to avoid the now badly-placed blades that were still descending, Sinclair followed up with a flurry of blows. With spit flecks dropping from his mouth, he used every ounce of strength and ability to repeatedly launch a series of blows at the elf on the right and, although the elf to the left managed a single cut to his back, the right-most elf was downed in less than four seconds.

As SInclair turned, he saw the center-most elf was getting to its feet, over a dozen feet away. Time to act then, no time for pain or indecision. He locked eyes with the elf that had been on his left and snarled as he launched himself straight at the elf's face. The elf in question had made another mistake, letting his swords drift off point in his surprise. When Sinclair launched himself at the elf, he found his blades trapped, arms by his side. Sinclair rode him to the ground and swung his ax over and over again. He would not be dismissed as some nothing. He was protecting his companions. He had no room in his head for self-doubt. He hadn't asked for any of this… but he knew his role.

As he was getting to his feet, breath coming in labored gasps, Sinclair suddenly felt like he had been punched—twice—in the back. He spun around to see the last elf had gotten to its feet, and was now rearing back to throw something else at him. He felt little pain, his emotions dominated by the rage at their arrogance. They thought they could just roll me over and move on to kill my friends. They will pay the price.

He coiled the power in his body down into his legs. As soon as he felt sufficient power gathered there, he flexed his legs and sent the power pouring out behind him. He flashed across the remaining ground between him and the last elf, seeing its eyes get large as he closed the distance with supernatural speed. As he hammered both hatchets into the chest of the elf, he was going near 50 miles per hour. The elf might as well have been hit by a bus. Sinclair stayed on top of the elf, holding on to the hatchets, as they slid to a stop 15 feet away. With blood seeping out of the elf's mouth, he whispered "What are you?" He would never receive an answer; the elf's eyes rolled up into his head, and the arrogant Snow Elf died, head dropping into the snow of the foreign world.

Panting heavily Sinclair stood up, adrenaline draining out of him as he suddenly realized there were two daggers sticking out of his back. Oh, guess that's what he was throwing at me. That's… not optimal. I think I might need help getting those out. Sinclair's health had dropped from 640 to 400, and his back was attempting to close up thanks to his pants' regen, but the foreign objects were preventing the wounds from closing. Hey, you know what though? I am not forgetting to loot an enemy again, so my back can just wait a moment.

Enemies Defeated: Snow Elves x 3

Experience Awarded: 12,300

Loot Received:

Snow Guards (Uncommon) x1

Long Sword (Common) x2

As he walked back to the cave to get help removing the daggers from his back, he inspected the 'Snow Guards', which appeared to be the armor that went on over the elves' forearms.

New Item: Snow Guards (Rare)

Description:These guards are worn only by the Snow Elves in Utgard. They provide resistance to the deep colds the world has to offer.

Effects:

Increased Cold Resistance

Agility +10

Willpower +5

Well, this quest might be dangerous, especially to my friends, but it's certainly paying off in good gear and money, not to mention experience points. Sinclair was now less than two thousand experience points from hitting level 13. Plus, a flashing indicator told him there was more to come.

New Title: Jotunheim's Bane

Description: Having vanquished a foe 25 levels or more above yours in single combat, the title of Jotunheim's Bane has been bestowed upon you. This illustrious title comes with the revered skill, Will of the Norns. Additionally, you receive a permanent enhancement: +10 to all base attributes, a testament to your prowess and indomitable spirit. This boon reflects your ascension to the ranks of legendary warriors. Like them, you have altered the threads of fate through sheer might and will.

Effects:

Grants Skill:

Will of the Norns

+10 to all Base Attributes

The skill looked incredible, and wasn't the only new one he'd received.

New Skill: Will of the Norns (Rare)

Description: Drawing from the ancient Norse tapestry of fate woven by the Norns, this skill allows you to project an aura of formidable intent. Your resolute desires manifest as an ethereal cloak, visible to those attuned to the sagas of old. This cloak can petrify adversaries, arresting them in a state of awe or dread, much like the foreboding chill of Niflheim, the realm of mist and ice. Enemies caught within this aura may find themselves immobilized, as if the very threads of destiny have bound them in place.

Effects:

Blankets an area in the aura, size dependent on Willpower

Note: The intent of the aura can be changed to portray different effects

New Skill: Focused Charge (Uncommon)

Description: Concentrating your mana into your legs propels you at great speeds

Effects:

Charge in a straight line for 15 yards

Note: Small corrections to course can be made

Sinclair paused, processing the magnitude of the changes. He had ascended in this new reality far quicker than he had anticipated, and the newfound titles and skills were a testament to his growth. Closing the notification window, he took a deep breath, feeling the weight and responsibility of his role and abilities. As the night deepened around him, he couldn't help but wonder about the challenges that awaited. The uncertainty of this new world loomed large, but he had a newfound resolve. If he was to be "Jotunheim's Bane" and master the Will of the Norns, then whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them head-on.