Reima’s Shards

Biography:
-Pleasure to meet you. Silverfall, correct?
-Siverfall – I corrected him politely.
-Right, right. Tell us a bit about yourself.
-I am skilled in the use of the sword, and I am also acquainted with forbidden magical techniques. If you require references, you may obtain them at the "Khima" dueling club - it is located in Akkerwald.
-Right, I see. Siverfall, why did you decide to join Orion specifically?
-Your organization is well known within our country and enjoys deserved respect. I have always wanted to work for such a large and respectable company as yours.
-Very good. You are a fit for us. There remains one small formality. Drink from this small vial.
-What is it? – I asked. Various rumors had circulated about Orion, but who knows how true they were?
-It is demon blood. It can kill you if you drink it. Death will be quite agonizing.
-But it might not kill, right? – I clarified just in case.
-It might not kill – the recruiter gave a vile smirk.
Well then, it would be foolish to turn back after having come this far. I brought the vessel to my lips and acted carelessly, inhaling the scent of its contents. The aroma was own-repulsive, and I involuntarily pulled the vial away from my lips. The smirk on the recruiter's face grew even wider and more vile. I exhaled sharply – partly out of fear, partly hoping that it would be easier to drink the contents on an exhale – and completely drained the disgusting liquid into myself. For a moment nothing happened, and then suddenly the whole world spun before my eyes, and I felt myself falling to the ground. Darkness surrounded me.
Tell us a bit about yourself.
Oh, I could tell you much…
***
-You are a very talented boy, just a bit lazy.
-I know, teacher. I will try harder.
-I know you will – the eternally kind smile on Nebren's face seemed to grow even brighter. I bowed awkwardly:
-Goodbye, teacher!
-Run along, Siverok.
I ran out of the old man's hut and walked as fast as possible toward my home. Nebren had taught me magic from a young age, but so far it had all been theory. An ordinary peasant's son could not even dream of magical academies, but he could dream of one day mastering magic. Especially if an elderly mage had settled in his village for some unknown reason.
Unfortunately, very soon I encountered the reason why I walked home so hastily and generally tried not to linger in the street. When I had almost reached my house, I saw a crowd of my peers who were busy gnawing on apples stolen from someone's garden. I hoped they would not notice me, and as much as possible, I hunched my shoulders and tried to look only at my feet. Naturally, this did not help:
-Ha, boys, look, Fiversale is coming – shouted the meanest and most vile of them and burst out laughing. The others also guffawed loudly.
-Who could have come up with such a name! Maybe our local idiot helped? – this witty pearl was shouted by a small and weak boy who always tried to be part of some company.
I remembered my mother's words: "Be above it, son. Ignore them and they will leave you alone." I continued walking home in silence, but they did not leave me alone.
-Listen here, fucker, we are talking to you! – my main tormentor, a big and strong guy with an obvious mental delay, stood right in my path. I tried to go around him, but he grabbed me by the shirt.
-Get off me! – after these words, I made an unsuccessful attempt to break free from his hands
-Why don't you, like, cast a spell on me – more loud laughter.
-Go fuck yourself!
-What did you say, little caster? Take this, damn it!
A powerful blow nearly knocked me off my feet, but I still tried to fight back and strike in return. The other boys did not interfere – that wouldn't be "manly." However, it wasn't as if that helped me much. Constant magic studies had not affected my physical abilities very well, and soon I suffered a quick and irrevocable defeat. When I fell to the ground, I felt myself being kicked. No longer trying to save face, I cried loudly and rolled on the ground. "For what?" - spun in my head – "Why me? Why do I have such a stupid name? Why am I so weak? Why am I surrounded by nothing but idiots? Why, why, why…" After another kick, I heard the crunch of my bones and felt…
***
…felt someone patting me on the shoulder approvingly, as a doctor ran to check my opponent's pulse, while someone else simply chanted my name loudly. Well then, another duel, another widow. I wiped the blood from my rapier and said without much expression:
-It is very unfortunate that it turned out this way. But when you challenge someone to a duel, you must always be prepared for such an outcome.
The opinions of those gathered were, as always, divided. Some expressed complete agreement with me, some said that we are all human and should try never to bring one of the combatants to death. Some reminded me that duels with me very often end in the death of one of the opponents.
-Not one of the opponents – I parried with an arrogant smirk – but the death of my opponents.
-Siver! Siver! Look what he had!
One of the members of my club was already searching the deceased and showing his find – a scrap of paper. I took the slip of paper and began to read it:
"To him who defeated me.
If you are reading this note, it means that in some unthinkable way, I lost to you. Sad, but nothing can be done. Despite this, I do not want the fruits of my thorough.."
I didn't even bother to finish reading and, crumpling the note, threw it aside.
-Another load of nonsense about preparation, blah-blah-blah, a chest in a cave, blah-blah-blah. I've seen this a hundred times already. Does anyone still fall for this? It feels like you could buy the whole set at once on the market – the note, the same chest with a bomb, and the cave to go with it.
All the surrounding duelists laughed in unison. Yes, if there was one thing everyone agreed on, it was that only someone not from our world could believe such stupidity.
-With that, allow me to take my leave – I made an elegant bow and headed home, immersed in thoughts about the events that led me here.
Yes, escaping from the village was the right decision. Many misfortunes awaited me, but fortunately, the "Khima" duelists guild always recruited new people – and they didn't care how strong or weak, agile or clumsy you were. True, after training, one had to work for them for some time – provoking various fools into a duel, and then making sure they could never challenge anyone to a duel again. But for me, this was not such a big problem. To be honest, I liked it. As a rule, my opponents were very weak fighters, and therefore I felt no risk to my own life – but taking the lives of other people gave me pleasure. There was nothing better than driving an enemy into a corner blow by blow and seeing in his eyes the fear and the realization that he had already lost…
I was torn from these pleasant thoughts by the feeling that I was being watched. Looking around, I noticed a pretty girl who was looking at me. Well then, maybe today I'll be lucky. Putting on a gallant smile, I approached her and began a dialogue:
-May I know the name of such an enchant...
-Remember, killer – she interrupted me in an icy tone – he who takes life with a blade shall perish by the blade. You cannot escape fate.
Apparently, this is that very widow. Or a sister. The smile faded from my face, but I did not want to be without the last word, so I answered sourly:
-There is no such thing as "fate" - and walked away.
However, before I could take even a few steps, I suddenly saw the glint of steel in the hands of the grief-stricken woman. A dagger. What a fool, I don't need a weapon to deal with..
I was wrong. She didn't need the dagger to kill me. Instead, she stabbed herself in the stomach with all her might. I watched in confusion as she fell to the ground, and her snow-white hem turned red with blood. It seemed to me that I should do something, but I knew nothing about how to save lives. People quickly began to appear around us, and I heard someone's terrible scream…
***
…a terrible scream, more terrible than anything I had ever heard in my entire life. I didn't even know people could scream like that. But then again, I didn't know such magic existed…
The scene unfolding before my eyes fascinated me. A huge bandit with an axe in his hand stood opposite a scrawny man in a robe and was screaming horribly. From the weakling's hand flowed a stream of some energy, some magic. This stream seemed to pulse, live its own life, and shimmer with mesmerizing colors. And most strikingly, these two were changing before my eyes. The bandit shriveled, became smaller, thinner, while the weakling became larger and more massive. Finally, he stopped casting the spell and lowered his hand. The bandit had turned into a shriveled corpse with a frozen grimace of horror on his face. Fortunately, the mage didn't seem to see me. Perhaps he uses this magic only for defense, but it wasn't worth risking. Silently, like a panther, and swiftly, like a tiger, I crept up to the sorcerer from behind in a few leaps and pierced him through with one clean strike. First, he looked surprised at the blade coming out of his chest, then he tried to direct his hand in my direction – this frightened me no small amount, so I quickly pulled the sword out of him, pushed him to the ground, and then tried to behead him. Doing this with a one-handed sword was not easy (if possible at all), so instead I felt the blade get stuck in the vertebrae. Fortunately, the dangerous lunatic no longer moved, so I, cursing and somehow, but still without much haste, calmly pulled my sword out of his neck. One thought hammered wildly in my head:
"THIS POWER MUST BECOME MINE".
Yes, after I worked off my debt to the duelists guild, I became something of a free man. However, time passes, and soon there are no more idiots in town wanting to duel you. You can't do anything else and move to the next town. I loved calling myself by fancy words – "duelist", "swashbuckler", "blade master", "the best rapier of Akkerwald", but to tell the truth, I could just as easily be called a vagabond – and not be wrong. I didn't understand why I continued to live, for what reason I got out of bed, why I went to the next town to make another widow miserable. But just the thought that I would master such powerful magic made my head spin, as if from good wine…
I began searching the mage's body. Aha, and here are the books containing forbidden knowledge. I opened one of them and laughed, as I hadn't laughed in a long time – with the laugh of a happy man. For an ordinary peasant or thug would not have understood anything written there, if they could even read, but the skills I obtained in childhood from Nebren should help me. What's more, a single cursory glance was enough for me to understand that I would easily and quickly master this magical technique. It is not that complicated.
Suddenly, some strange sound echoed beside me, and I nearly jumped in surprise; quickly taking a stance, I pointed my sword toward the sound – but everything was fine, it was just the rattle of a dying man…
***

…the rattle of a dying man was music to my ears. You broke my ribs in childhood? Well, now I have broken and taken your life.
-Please! Don't! Have mercy – pleaded one of my former tormentors in vain.
I only smiled. I could have said something appropriate for the occasion, but there was no need. I reveled in the moment. Have you ever heard that revenge doesn't give a sense of satisfaction? Do not believe it. Revenge gives you a pleasure that few things can compare to.
-Enough! – suddenly Nebren's figure appeared before me – you will cause harm to no one else!
I looked at him more with surprise than anger. He isn't as old as he seemed to me in childhood. He is unlikely to be over sixty, which means back then he was about forty.
-Step aside, old man – I continued to smile wickedly – you don't understand what kind of power you are dealing with.
-And that is where you are wrong – he answered and threw a fireball at me.
Had I been an ordinary mage, perhaps our magical duel would have ended at this moment, but I was also an agile fighter, so I quickly jumped aside. At first, I didn't want to kill my former teacher for sentimental reasons, but after that, I quickly changed my mind. However, his essence should not go to waste – and I directed the well-known spell at him with a now habitual gesture of the hand. Blue-violet magical streams headed toward him. And suddenly something happened that I didn't expect at all. Nebren defended himself against my spell… by directing his own stream of magical energy against me. There could be no mistake – it was essential magic.
-What? – from astonishment, I almost laughed – you are acquainted with this magic?
-Yes! I am! And I understand too well the danger that it carries!
-You. Are. Acquainted. With. Such. Power. And. Preferred. To Teach. Village. Children?! – with every word, the stream of energy from my hand became stronger, and the balance previously formed shifted toward the old man. A little more – and he will be completely defeated.
-Yes! Yes! You don't understand! Once, I was just like you! Blinded by my anger and hatred! But then I understood! These feelings destroy! One must create!
– even though the old man was weakening, he still shouted all these foolish things as if they mattered. He would have been better off concentrating on maintaining the spell.
I growled – trying not to think that growling is more characteristic of warriors than mages – and finally completely absorbed his beam with my own, breaking a path to his body. I felt the familiar sensation of essence being poured into me. In some corner of my consciousness, I noted that a butterfly flying past the beam withered and died.
-How foolish you are, Nebren – I said more quietly, looking at his dying body – you tried to suppress your anger and your hatred… Despite all your years, you didn't understand one simple thing – my voice began to grow louder – this power does not need to be suppressed. It must be given free rein! IT CRAVES THIS! – with these words, I tore the last part of his soul from him.
Drawing in a deep breath – I always felt especially alive after pulling out someone else's soul – I looked at the still-sprawling village thug.
-Any last words? – I smirked.
-Tell us a bit about yourself – he answered in a calm and foreign voice.
-W…what?
-Why did you decide to join Orion specifically?
-Why did I decide…
***
I opened my eyes and felt nauseous. Since I hadn't had breakfast this morning, all that came out of me was a bit of bile.
-Alive? – the recruiter asked me
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him gesture to some two men with stretchers, and they left. They didn't look like medics, more like corpse-bearers.
-Alive? – he repeated his question, as if not knowing that dead men don't stand on their legs and vomit bile. However, I was in no mood for witty remarks and simply nodded. The brute looked at me for some time, then also nodded and said:
-Welcome to Orion.

Origin:
Soul Stealers :smile24: (Access to soul stealer abilities)

Characteristics:
Strength 35
Intelligence 30
Will 5
Dexterity 25 (+15)
Perception 45
Wisdom 5
Charisma 5

Skills:


One-handed Weapon (type 1)
— Parrying
1. Character can parry opponent's attacks (accuracy) (2 SP)
2. Counterattack on successful parry (2 SP)
3. Automatic hit on successful counterattack (3 SP)
— Piercing Strikes
1. +1% to critical hit chance for each unit of intelligence (1 SP)
2. Character's attacks can paralyze the opponent with a 25% probability (3 SP)
3. Reduces attacked target's speed to 0 for 1 turn (3 SP)
— Movement Speed
1. +1 additional attack (1 SP)
2. +1 additional attack (2 SP)
3. +1 to accuracy for each unit of perception (3 SP)
— Mastery
First row
A. +15 to accuracy
B. +15 to evasion
C. +2 to speed
Second row
A. +20 to accuracy
B. +20 to evasion
C. +15 to dexterity
Third row
A. +25% to critical damage chance
B. +100% to critical damage


Essential Magic
— Essential Magic Techniques
1. +5% to magic effectiveness for each unit of dexterity (1 SP)
2. +5% to magic effectiveness for each unit of perception (1 SP)
— Essential Magic Spells
Life Steal
Takes 100 health units (permanently) from the target and transfers them to self until the end of the battle.
Cost: 75
Damage type: magical
Caster roll: accuracy
Target roll: will
Range: 10
Energy Steal
Takes 75 health units (permanently) from the target and converts them into magical energy (2 energy units per health unit) until the end of the battle.
Cost: 75
Damage type: magical
Caster roll: accuracy
Target roll: will
Range: 10
Essence Steal
Takes 10 units (maximum: 30) of one random characteristic type (permanently) from the target and transfers them to self.
Cost: 150
Caster roll: accuracy
Target roll: will
Range: 10
Abyss
Takes 100 health (permanently) and 5 units of random characteristics (maximum: 15 of one random type (permanently)) from the target and transfers them to self from all characters (including allies) around self (+2). Half of the health is transferred to self until the end of the battle, the other half is converted into magical energy at a ratio of 1 to 1.
Caster roll: accuracy
Target roll: will
Cost: 300

1 unused skill point.

Conviction:
Master of His Own Fate


Fate card of your choice; ability to discard one, several or all cards; character survives one fatal wound.


Card №08
One of the following:
Additional perk;
+1 CP, +2 HP, +3 SP;
+10 to all characteristics;
Character survives one fatal wound;
+40 to all rolls if character's humanity is not less than 10;
Full studied specialization (50% chance).

Perk:
Agility


Character can shoot or cast spells and move simultaneously.

Inventory:

Western equipment
Ordinary one-handed sword.