New Character Sheet

The thought of facing an immensely powerful villain gave Pan Long a headache.

For a moment, he even considered making a run for it right then.

After all, Gorion was neither family nor friend to him, and neither were Charname and Imoen. Besides, Gorion was the only one fated to die in this fight. Charname and Imoen would both come through unscathed—because a mighty champion of the righteous path, apparently known as 12345, was on the way.

Wait. This world has teleportation. Why doesn't that champion just teleport here?

And Gorion's a powerful mage. Why doesn't he teleport away?

The more Pan Long thought about it, the less sense it made, and the more he wanted to turn around and leave.

But just then, Gorion spoke.

"If a fight breaks out, unhitch the horses and ride straight out of here."

Pan Long froze. Before he could speak, Imoen blurted out, "What are you talking about? Why would we fight anyone? And even if we do, why should we run? How can we leave you to face the enemy alone? You're a mage! Without someone in front to protect you, a single dagger could kill you!"

Gorion sighed and said nothing.

But Pan Long changed his mind.

If Gorion had kept the danger hidden, Pan Long might truly have left. But Gorion had warned them in advance. Even if that warning was only meant for Charname and Imoen, it was still an act of kindness.

When someone shows me kindness, I should repay it in kind.

So he decided to stay. Even if he could not beat that bald bastard Sarevok, he would at least help Charname and Imoen escape.

If two greenhorns could get away on horseback, then with his abilities—he could outrun a horse in a short sprint—there was no reason he could not escape too.

In that case, I know which starting class to choose.

He nodded to himself and selected his class.

[Barbarian: You are a Warrior from a savage world. A harsh life has given you a stronger body than your counterparts in civilized society, but it has also left you less adept at using your head. You make your way through the world by strength and instinct, scorn the outside world's fussy rules, and hold fast to your own code of honor.]

[Attributes: A Barbarian's strength and constitution must both exceed 15. With each level gained, a Barbarian gains 10 points of maximum health and the full increase from his constitution modifier.]

[Weapon proficiencies: If you do not already have proficiency with battleaxes, thrown weapons, and two-handed swords, you gain those proficiencies by default. If you already have them, you gain three additional proficiency points to distribute among those weapons, to a maximum of three stars in each.]

[Equipment traits: A Barbarian can use any equipment. He cannot learn magic or use wands and Scroll, but this does not prevent him from using magic potions, magic items, or magic weapons. A Barbarian can wear heavy armor, but if his armor is heavier than splint mail, he cannot unleash his innate Rage.]

[Specialties: Barbarians have an extra advantage in wilderness survival, hunting, climbing, running, tracking, swimming, endurance, and similar skills. When using these skills, they receive twice the usual bonus from their attributes.]

[Special ability: Rage. A Barbarian can enter Rage after one full period of preparation, approximately six seconds. While raging, he ignores all Spells that affect the mind and can effectively resist various Spells that affect the body. Even if injuries reduce his health to zero, he will not die immediately, but only after the battle ends.]

[Limitations: While using Rage, a Barbarian cannot think clearly and instinctively attacks the nearest enemy. If a companion acts hostile toward him at that time, he may lose all sense of friend and foe and start killing indiscriminately. Because Rage sends his spirit into a frenzy, he completely rejects divine power: he cannot receive any divine spell benefits or healing. Whether he wins or loses, he falls into weakness the moment his Rage ends.]

[Social relations: Barbarians do not have an easy time in civilized society. The weak tend to regard them with wariness and suspicion, while the strong tend to scorn and provoke them. On the other hand, people trust their courage and martial prowess as deeply as they harbor those prejudices. When a Barbarian returns to the savage world, his honor as a Warrior benefits him in every social encounter.]

Ah, these old games really are bare-bones. If I'd gone to one of the later games, I'd have had loads of classes to choose from and plenty of useful feats...

Pan Long watched his Character Panel change as he gained his class and sighed inwardly.

But then he smiled. Those bare-bones abilities were a blessing as well as a curse. He might not have many special tricks, but neither did his enemies!

If this had been set in a later game in the series—say, the VR game Follow the Gleam, which he had played not long before crossing over—heaven only knew how powerful that bald bastard Sarevok would be!

Under the rules of Follow the Gleam, a high-level Warrior with divine blood like Sarevok would be a walking meat grinder. Anyone even a little weaker would be cut in two before they could react.

All right, when I put it that way, it's probably for the best...

He studied his Character Panel again, then closed his eyes and felt the knowledge welling up inside him: detailed knowledge of how to wield a battleaxe, and of how to control his anger and enter Rage. Pan Long nodded to himself, fairly satisfied.

Then he tried switching Character Panels, changing to his Thief class from the world of Sword and Lament.

Most of that new knowledge vanished at once, like water flowing into a desert. In its place, the Thief abilities that had been little more than hazy impressions surged back into his mind.

So every time I switch Character Panels, my abilities change with it... I could pull off quite a few tricks with that.

If I get a basic class and a Character Panel in every game world I visit, that'll be interesting.

He imagined having a whole collection of Character Panels someday, free to switch between them and transform completely each time. He could not help laughing to himself.

His enemies would have a miserable time of it.

They would ready themselves to fight a mighty warrior, only for him to turn around and become a master archer. Then, halfway through the fight, he could flee, become a Thief, hide in the shadows, and launch a sneak attack. If things went badly, he could suddenly enter Rage and fight as though he were immortal...

Hahaha! The looks on their faces would be priceless!

As he gloated to himself, he suddenly noticed several birds circling in the night sky a short distance ahead.

"Stop the carriage!" he shouted instinctively. "There's an ambush ahead!"

Charname immediately pulled on the reins and brought the carriage horses to a halt. Gorion and Imoen looked at Pan Long in confusion.

Pan Long pointed at the circling birds. "It's already night. Those birds should be back in their nests, but they're circling instead of landing. That means there's something dangerous near the nests, and they're afraid to go close."

Imoen nodded several times, then asked curiously, "What do you do? How do you know that?"

"It's common knowledge where I come from. We have a lot of bandits, so we're always on guard against ambushes."

Imoen's eyes widened in astonishment. "Your homeland sounds terrifying! ...Wait, you remember where you came from?"

"That's right. Where I came from, where I'm going... I remember all of it." Pan Long answered casually, then jumped down from the carriage and drew his sword.

Gorion climbed down without a word. Imoen and Charname followed, checking their equipment and preparing for a fight.

Just then, arrogant, coarse laughter came from a short distance ahead.

"I'm impressed. You actually spotted my ambush in advance!" The voice was as sharp as metal scraping against metal, painful to hear. "But it makes no difference. It only adds to your despair and suffering."

As he spoke, numerous figures emerged from the woods and slowly closed in.

At the sight of them, Pan Long swore inwardly.

There were too many enemies!

There were twenty or thirty Goblins alone. The little creatures had neither much fighting strength nor much courage, but with a powerful creature behind them to keep them in line, they could still serve as passable cannon fodder. Enough ants could bite an elephant to death, let alone Goblins!

The monsters with hyena heads and towering bodies were Gnolls. They were no easy opponents. Even one required four trained adventurers who worked well together and kept a tight formation to bring down with any confidence. And there were six Gnolls in front of them!

Then there were the two monsters behind them, so tall they were frightening. Each stood about as high as two shorter people and had a powerfully built body. The thick wooden clubs in their hands could pound any enemy into a mass of bloody pulp. These were the fearsome monsters known as Ogres; their name alone spoke of how terrifying they were. A single Ogre could threaten a village, and if trained, one could rout an entire patrol of soldiers.

As for the big man standing behind them all, his bald head gleaming in the torchlight—Pan Long could not be bothered to think about him.

Yes, Sarevok was strong. Incredibly strong. He might even be stronger than all four of them put together. But what did that matter?

They could not beat the enemies right in front of them anyway.

"Hey, what exactly is the bad blood between you?" he asked, pretending he knew nothing. "I think we should retreat."

"Yes, Gorion, let's run," Imoen urged. "There's no shame in running from enemies like these."

Gorion said nothing.

As Gorion had instructed earlier, Charname unfastened the carriage shafts from the two draft horses so they could run at any moment.

The Warrior was not one for words, but he was always dependable.

"Sir, are you sure you want to fight them?" Pan Long could not help asking as the enemies drew closer. "You're a Mage, aren't you? Why not use a Spell to take us all away?"

"Away?" Before Gorion could answer, Sarevok burst out laughing. "I've sealed off this entire area with divine power. No teleportation Spell will work here. You can't escape!"

Pan Long finally understood what was going on, and his hopes of victory shrank a little further.

Just then, Gorion sighed deeply and raised his staff.

A beam of white light rose from the tip of the staff into the sky.

The night had been fairly clear, but it abruptly turned so dark they could barely see their hands in front of their faces. A fierce wind sprang up, and dampness filled the air.

"I'll bring down a heavy rain," Gorion said at last. "Then you must run."

I realized I'd mixed up the second- and third-edition character sheets, so I made a last-minute correction. If there are still mistakes, please let me know.