Watcher of Fate

Elara gripped the bar tighter, her knuckles white with fear and determination. Her mind raced, realizing how insane her attempt to escape the alleyway was. The desperation of her situation weighed heavily on her. She was trapped, with no clear path to safety. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to hide, but she knew that she had to fight if she wanted any chance of survival.

With a surge of adrenaline, she charged the orc, her heart pounding in her ears. The orc, distracted by the chaos around them, didn’t notice her approach. Elara ran full tilt, her muscles straining with the effort. She could feel the weight of her fear pressing down on her, making her legs feel like lead.

She launched herself into the air, pushing off the wall next to the orc with every ounce of her 10 dexterity. The orc was nearly seven feet tall, a towering, menacing figure that blocked her path. As she sailed over the orc, she swung her makeshift club down with all her strength. The bar connected with a sickening thud, the impact jarring her arms. She felt the vibration travel up her bones as she struck the orc’s head.

A guttural sound escaped her lips as she brought the bar down, her voice mingling with the orc’s roar of surprise and pain. The force of the blow dazed the orc, but the momentum carried her forward. Her leg clipped the orc, throwing her off balance. She tumbled forward, transitioning into an awkward roll, her body hitting the ground hard. Pain shot through her, but she managed to avoid falling flat on her face.

She scrambled to her feet and heard another ding signaling a notification. She didn’t check it right away, too focused on her escape. She hazarded a glance behind her as she fled with every ounce of her ability. The orc she had clobbered appeared dazed, swaying on its feet. Hot on her trail, the other orc barreled into the first, and both went down in a tangle of limbs and rage.

Relief flooded through Elara as she saw the orcs collapse in a heap. For a moment, she had feared that they would instantly charge after her, but now she had a precious few seconds to put more distance between them. Seeing them entangled, snarling, and grappling with each other gave her a glimmer of hope. Her heart still pounded, but a spark of determination reignited within her. She could do this. She could survive.

She saw them start to fight each other as she rounded the next corner. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of fear and triumph flooding her senses. Her legs felt heavy, each step more labored than the last. She stumbled, her vision blurring from exhaustion, and finally, her body gave out as if her strings had been cut. She collapsed to the ground, her limbs like lead weights, refusing to move.

Panting for breath, Elara felt tears sting her eyes. The overwhelming fatigue and the terror of the night caught up to her all at once. She sobbed, her body shaking with each ragged breath. The fear of what might happen if she couldn't get up gnawed at her. "No, I can't stop now," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I have to keep going."

She pushed herself up on trembling arms, her muscles protesting with every movement. Despair threatened to overwhelm her, but she clung to the hope that had kept her going this far. She had to survive. She had to keep running. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to her feet once more, the chaos of the night closing in around her. Elara took a deep breath, steeling herself for the next stretch, and began to move again, her resolve hardening with every step.

Elara pushed herself up on trembling arms, her muscles protesting with every movement. Despair threatened to overwhelm her, but she clung to the hope that had kept her going this far. She had to survive. She had to keep running. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to her feet once more, the chaos of the night closing in around her. Taking a deep breath, she opened her notifications.

You gained Lvl 1 Blunt Weapons (Common)

Lvl 10 Running (Common) has been upgraded to Parkour (Uncommon) and retained Lvl.

Elara took a second to open up the Parkour skill. The description popped up in her interface.

Parkour: Your agility and dexterity allow you to move fluidly through urban environments. Gain increased ability to vault, climb, and traverse obstacles with ease.

This was something good, something unexpectedly useful, but she couldn’t fully accept it or process it. She could not receive a gift in the middle of this disaster. She just did not have the emotional headroom to grasp its significance. The situation's absurdity struck her; she was in the middle of chaos and had just gained a skill in a way she never anticipated. But there was no time to dwell on it. She had to keep moving.

She pushed it to the back of her mind, bringing up her notifications again.

Stamina has reached zero. The ability to move is greatly reduced.

Moment of Desperation: Your life is in danger. Convert a portion of health to refill stamina (yes/no).

Elara debated, her mind racing. She only had 4 HP left. The realization struck her hard: she might die from the conversion, but she would die if she couldn’t run. She felt a wave of panic wash over her, the fear of making the wrong choice tightening around her chest like a vice.

Pros and cons tumbled through her mind in a frantic whirlwind. If she converted her health to stamina, she would have the energy to keep running and maybe find safety. But if she lost too much health, she could be one blow, one fall, one mistake away from death.

The image of her mother flashed in her mind, fighting fiercely on the front lines. What would she do? Elara knew the answer: She would take the risk and fight to the last breath. Her father’s face came next, filled with worry and love. She couldn’t leave him to face this alone.

The thought of collapsing again, of being too exhausted to move, sent a shiver down her spine. She imagined the orcs catching up to her, her body too weak to defend itself. The sheer helplessness of it was unbearable. No, she couldn’t let that happen.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she made her decision. "I have to survive. I have to keep moving," she whispered, her voice trembling. She selected yes.

2 HP converted to 8 Sta.

The notification flashed before her eyes, and she felt a surge of energy course through her body, albeit accompanied by a wave of dizziness. She had no time to dwell on the discomfort. Her life depended on her ability to keep moving. Steeling herself, Elara pushed off the wall and began to run again. Her newly acquired [Parkour] skill made running faster with very little effort significantly easier. She felt almost like she was gliding through the streets, her movements more fluid and efficient.

A semi-hysterical laugh bubbled up from her chest at the good conversion rate. She tried to convince herself that 2 HP was more than enough. In her entire life before today, she had never lost 2 HP in a single day. "It’s fine," she muttered, forcing a smile. "I’ve never needed more than 2 HP before. I can do this.”

Elara flew down alleys and streets like a feather on the breeze, her movements effortless and swift. Every obstacle was an opportunity for her now. Orcs blocking one road? Fine, she ran up the walls, bouncing from one to the other until she reached the roof to continue her escape. A two-story drop back to the road became a dismount using a balcony, rolling away without a problem.

The city around her was a scene of relentless destruction. Explosions erupted with terrifying regularity, shaking the ground beneath her feet and lighting up the night sky with flashes of orange and red. Buildings crumbled, their structures unable to withstand the constant barrage. Fires spread quickly, consuming everything in their path and filling the air with thick, choking smoke. The screams of panicked townsfolk and the guttural roars of orcs created a nightmarish symphony of chaos. Elara navigated this hellscape with a newfound grace and speed, darting through the streets, her heart pounding as she dodged falling debris and leaped over obstacles. Each step and movement was driven by sheer will and the desperate need to survive.

Amidst the destruction, Elara glanced around, watching as homes and shops, once familiar and safe, were reduced to rubble and ash. The city's destruction was all-encompassing, and it seemed as if every corner she turned revealed new horrors. Yet, she pushed forward, driven by the hope that her home and family were safe.

A smile crept across her face despite the terrible situation. Elara crossed the city with a speed that surprised even herself. She came to the square where her father's shop and home stood. Relief washed over her as she saw it still standing, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. She raced forward, eager to get home.

The world seemed to stand a standstill as she saw a spell streak toward the market square before her. Her scream was silent as she watched the explosion land in front of her. She stared in slow motion as the spell form, a series of red magical threads woven with a ring of black thread, and a minor thread of purple blossomed in front of her. It would almost be beautiful if it were not destroying everything she knew. Her home disintegrated before her eyes, and she was knocked backward, shrapnel flying in every direction. A -2 HP flashed in red before her eyes, and the world collapsed. Her vision tunneled, and she started to cry at her death and the death of her father.

Her vision went completely black, and then a green "+1 HP Regenerated" appeared her only regen point for the next few hours, saving her life. Suddenly, something deep within her shattered, flooding her with an overwhelming clarity. She felt an intense surge of understanding, a heightened awareness of the world around her.

Her vision returned, and the sound of the world came back with a roar. She heard herself screaming, the raw emotion of loss and fear tearing through her throat. The pain and devastation around her seemed to echo in her mind, amplifying the intensity of her emotions.

Elara coughed, hacking up blood, and looked at the crater that had once been the block she grew up on. Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision. She felt the weight of the destruction, the agony of loss, and the desperate need for answers. As she struggled to comprehend the magnitude of what had happened, she noticed a ghostly golden magical thread leading into the city. It seemed to pulse with an otherworldly glow, almost as if it were alive, beckoning her to follow. In that moment, Elara felt an uncanny sense that the thread was trying to guide her, offering a path forward amidst the chaos. Yet, she knew it was up to her to accept or reject this silent guidance.

Elara forced herself up and started to walk towards the wall, ignoring the golden thread. Each step was heavy, her heart weighed down by grief. As she stumbled forward, a man came running down the street from where she was heading. "Stop! Don't go that way!" he yelled, waving his arms frantically. "The gate garrison has fallen! There's a horde of orcs coming this way!" The urgency in his voice echoed the warnings that had been silently conveyed by the golden thread, making her pause and reconsider her path.

Elara's eyes were filled with tears as she continued forward, her voice trembling. "I have to get to the gate guards. My mother is there!"

The man grabbed her arm, his grip firm but desperate. "They're dead and gone! There's nothing left but orcs. Please, you have to turn back!"

Elara's heart broke a second time, the fear of her mother’s death at the hands of the orcs hitting her like a physical blow. She yanked her arm free from the man's grip, her eyes blazing with a mixture of grief and determination. He stared at her for a moment, then, seeing the resolve in her eyes, he turned and ran off into the chaos, disappearing down another street.

She continued forward at a slow walk, almost like a zombie, her heart aching with every step. As she proceeded, she saw hundreds of orcs searching any house still standing for people to take as slaves. The scene was a nightmare, the orcs’ guttural commands and the cries of the captured creating a horrifying symphony of despair. Elara’s steps faltered, her spirit crushed under the weight of the horrors around her. She realized she was walking to her end without a plan or hope.

Her gaze drifted back to the ghostly golden thread, its soft glow a beacon in the chaos. It offered a sliver of hope, a chance to change her fate. Despite the overwhelming grief, a small spark of determination flickered within her. She turned and started to follow the thread, hoping it would lead her to a way to save herself and, perhaps, others in this hellish night.

Elara picked up her pace, leaning into her newest skill. Following the thread relentlessly, she felt her very nature shatter and reshape itself. She hoped beyond hope that this magical thread would lead her to save her family. The grief and despair gnawed at her mind, making her feel as if she were balancing on the edge of a precipice. Her heart was a heavy, aching weight in her chest, each step forward driven by sheer desperation. She tirelessly ran down burning, cratered streets, the magical fire so powerful it set stone ablaze. The destruction around her was overwhelming, yet she forced herself to move, clinging to the hope that this thread might lead to salvation.

Her focus was singular; she ignored others fleeing, the shouts of people directing efforts, and adventurers resisting the orc invasion. She had her mission. The chaos around her was a blur, her mind unable to process anything beyond the thread and the urgent need to follow it.

The thread disappeared between two buildings, the gap barely wide enough for her to squeeze through. Once sturdy and upright, the buildings had been damaged in the chaos, and one now tilted slightly, creating a narrow passage. The courtyard beyond was just as rundown and broken as the streets she had been navigating. Weeds and vines overgrew the area, and the stones were cracked and worn over time. It must have been built around and ignored for years, a relic of a past age now hidden amidst the newer constructions.

On the other side was a small mausoleum, its weathered facade hinting at its age. The thread led into the mausoleum. Elara moved with desperate hope, feeling like this was her last chance. The golden thread floated through the back wall. Elara left and moved around the mausoleum, but the thread did not exit. Re-entering, Elara followed the thread to the back wall and pushed.

The wall groaned as it started to flip up. Elara pushed with her full 6 strength and every ounce of her hope. The wall budged slightly as she continued to press. Then, the door flung up on a hidden fulcrum, the grime holding the door secure gone, causing Elara to fall forward, tumbling down the slanted hallway until she fell down a vertical shaft. She heard the door slam shut behind her as she fell. She saw a message appear before her eyes before she hit the ground and blacked out.

Now Entering the Halls of Barrowdeep.