1 F***ed
Over the course of Humanity's history throughout the multiverse there comes a time when it's become too stagnant and complacent. Usually when technology meets a certain threshold humans are more interested in being entertained than moving towards a common goal.
The many beings of multiconciousness or "gods" seeing this create an opportunity for them once this time comes about. This is one such chance.
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A man's future is decided by a set of choices he makes when his mind is underdeveloped and is heavily impacted by those around him. His parents, the friends he makes, his favorite music genre, his selection of entertainment, and even his hobbies.
What decided Daniel's was the past, specifically a weapon used by every major group around the world at one point or another to hunt, wage war, and even to compete over competence. The bow and arrow. Something about its simplicity and simple materials made it a weapon most fledgling communities turn to for their first arsenal.
From the first time he saw it used, to the various times in his acestor's past it was used in mass wars, to legends created around it with folk heroes and even gods dedicated to its use, the bow and arrow enraptured the boy Daniel was and the man he had become.
From the age of seven Daniel had his hands on a bow in his downtime, as a hobby, as his entertainment, sometimes as a child even in his sleep. Simply put, Daniel loved the bow, and everything about it, from the riser to its limbs, the string nock, the string itself, even the shaft, fletching and nock of its many arrows.
So on a day in the midst of his seventeenth year, amid aspirations to compete in the Olympics that seemed so certain and important he went to sleep and woke with the weight of his race's entire future literally on his shoulders and his alone.
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Waking up in a strange place was an odd occurence to David who had almost never slept outside the relative safety and comfort of his two story home in Chicago, Il. So awakening to a closed room with cave like walls and a single blue light hovering in the center of the room was jarring.
Panicking for several minutes trying to find a way out and screaming for help seemed to accomplish nothing, aside from a sore throat, so he sat and took a few deep breaths picturing his favorite recurve bow. Gaining a calm he'd not had since before appearing in the room, he stood and came to the dull blue light that originated from seemingly nothing in the center of the room.
Staring at it for a few minutes he finally put his hand into the light. A screen came to life in front of him.
<[Welcome, Daniel. You have been given an opportunity singular in nature to save your race. In six months time your people will be put into stasis and 100 random humans out of the current 7,713,468,000 will be sent to you. Only those over the age of adulthood (12) to the age of prime (29) will be sent as the first 100.
You were chosen because of your obsession with archery and a conglomeration of other factors that are now irrelevant.
For the next six months while you dream or, six hours for every one you are asleep, you will be given a chance in the universe dungeon with a randomly produced skill to make coins until three days before arrival. Upon which time you will come to the central world of the multiverse to build your race a stronghold.
After a grace period of one month you will receive a random number of humans every three to seven days, from the minimum of 100 to the maximum of 1,000.
Good luck Daniel. The Multiconciousness' luck be with you, always.]>
Daniel as if coming from a trance after reading the last word begins to hyperventilate and crumbles to the ground. Several more screens come into existence but his gaze is unresponsive.
Minutes later he calms, shock settling in as he reads over the next few screens.
<[Randomly gained skill received <<Rudimentary Racial Summoning>>]>
<[<<Rudimentary Racial Summoning>> or <RRS> is an unranked skill that summons races ranging from legendary to common with low intellect and a semi-formed language from their home planet in tribal form, taking 15% of a random tribe's militaristic adults (adulthood to prime) locks that world's time and hands them to you for as long as you wish. When you unsummon them, the world they are from unlocks and they come to, their memories of your time with them in tact.
As this skill is used, you may only use the tribe you are first given, forever. Beware this skill becoming useless as the tribe is killed or enslaved.]>
<[Use skill <RRS>?]>
<[Y/N]>
'This is insane...' David breathes out lightly. He rubs his eyes with his index finger and thumb, then runs his face with his palms and sighs deeply. "Yes."
*Vuu-Uuuu-ooP*
The world around him vanishes as he's sent hurtling through wormholes at speeds uncomprehendable to the human mind as he comes to looking at a rocky planet with few grasslands and large oceans. Zooming into a sparse grassland he comes face to face with his tribe. One to two hundred red creatures four to five feet in height appear in his sight, mud huts and a short mud wall around six feet high with intermittent holes and paths used for walking come into view.
Unconsciously he zooms in on a single one of these creatures, it has dexterous five fingered hands with fingernails oddly similar to that of a human and three toed clawed feet used to grip the ground, sparse tufts of hair dot its head and feet. A bow in the little creature's hand brings a thrill to Daniel as he laughs in his mind.
<[Species selected @#÷=$/ or Scalit a small dimwitted being known for their slightly stronger than normal arms and quick, strong feet.
Common rarity.
Population 238
Militaristic 112 x 15% = 16.8 rounded down 16
Types of military
Blunt Weapon 64
Rock Throwers 31
Archers 17
Please select type(s): __]>
Daniel stares blankly at the sheet and question marks appear in his mind, 'Almost exactly the number I can take is Archers, what's happening?' He stares at the screen for awhile numbly and enters in Archers.
<[Achers selected, sending random archers to your location now, rewriting tribe's loyalty instincts to include you. Rewriting language center of brain to include English. Performing operations on DNA to include vocal cords with the ability to speak English. Adding changes to bloodline, tribe as a whole.
Commencing in...
5
4
3
2
1]>
Coming back to himself he's no longer in the room, standing in front of him are sixteen Scalit archers, all of whom are staring at him silently. Behind his archers is a hallway lit by moss in blue. Gaining some courage from his shock and numb nerves he nods once.
"Hello," he says tentatively, one of the Scalits step forward, "Great Leader, we here to help you. We answer call, fight. Yes?" The Scalit looks at him with it's big black eyes as if waiting for an answer.
Daniel sighs and nods to himself and those staring at him, "Yes, you'll fight while I look for a bow of my own, then we'll fight together and make your tribe strong and give mine a chance to survive." The Scalit looks at him nonplussed for several seconds. Daniel thinks back to the description of the Scalit's and just sighs heavily, "Yes, we fight."
The archer looks at him happily, "Fight!" the other Scalits nod happily, "Fight!" they yell as Daniel sighs heavily once more.
Realizing he's just wasting time trying to converse with what equates to a stupid child he quickly lines them up along the left wall, to much confusion for them and annoyance for himself, he has each fire two or three arrows for him, changing their stance and grip several times.
As he touches the first to help him change his grip on the bow and arrow a screen pops up.
<[Level 1 Scarit Archer x 16
Name: #%$<=&#*
Physique: 2
Intelligence: 1
Willpower: 6
Attr. Pts.: 0
Skills:
Archery Level 0-1
Footwork Level 0
Bite Level 1-2
Claw Level 1
Blunt Weapons Level 1-2
Throwing Level 1-2
Accuracy Level 1]>
Daniel looks over the state of his archers and realizes archery must be very new to the tribe as few of them have level 1 in archery and most have level 1 or 2 of both blunt weapons and throwing.
He steps back after a moment and let's the first archer fire, fixing the positioning of his elbow and shoulder the status does not come up again. He allows the archer to shoot once more and fixes his hand placement by grabbing his wrist the status comes up once more.
Intrigued he grabs his own wrist and...
<[Level 1 Human Archer
Physique: 5
Intelligence: 7
Willpower: 2
Attr Pts.: 0
Skills:
Archery Level 12
Footwork Level 1]>
His Archery level being high makes sense, as does his low footwork, since standing still is not conducive to actual archery. 'This is going to be much harder than simply running through this dungeon with a bunch of Scalits wrecking everything in sight, I'm going to have to build an archery style from the ground up teach others that style as I go along and try to keep myself and them alive.'
His numb emotions coming back with a bang for a few moments he enters a catatonic state again as the Scalits watch on in confusion. Getting back to his feet after a few minutes of crying and begging a few deities for help all the while pushing the Scalits away trying to curl into a ball and forget his lot in life a new screen pops.
<[Due to emotions effecting your chances of pushing on we have turned off the section of your brain with emotional response, good luck!]>
The screen blipped away and he blinked his eyes several times, they became half lidded and he grabbed hold of the logic of his situation.
Getting up as if nothing had just occurred he continued teaching the Scalits archery going over hand placement, proper draw and release and even fixing a few of the bows that were strung incorrectly. All of the bows being in suprisingly good shape and made with above average materials, something that he has an inkling has something to do with the system itself, and not any genius on the part of the Scarits.
Taking his time to make sure they're each as ready as they should be, technically anyhow as some of these Scalits have been in actual fights with a bow and arrow and have killed things with them.
A few hours later he formed a tight knit group with himself being in the back 6 archers in the very front with ten in the back, the front six would shoot, knocking their second arrow while kneeling the second ten would shoot, as a cycle.
Twenty minutes later he had them down to it, deciding it was enough for now and that he was as prepared as he could be for what was to come, his party of sixteen Scarits and one human moved forward into what could possibly be his and humanity's last few moments.
