Welcome to New Pangea

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Light snoring echoed out of a small cave. A man laid deep within the cave, sprawled out in slumber. His arms and legs splayed out in ways that only deep sleep can make seem comfortable. His mouth hung slightly open as he snored lightly. Sand carried in by the wind had covered him up to his neck. The sand cocooned him like a blanket, he'd probably would have slept for the entire day. That is until a strong gust of wind brought a trail of sand that landed into his gaping mouth.

The man sat up and began to spit and coughed out globs of wet sand, swearing quietly as he wiped his mouth. Panic gripped at him when he glanced around his surroundings.

"W-what the hell?" The man gasped in confusion.

Not only was there far too much sand but it was also excruciatingly hot. He was in a cave, a shallow one and from the opening he could clearly see the oppressive view of a desert. A freaking desert? His mind reeled. For a full minute the man tried to blink the scenery from his sight.

"This can't be real. This. Can't. Be. Real. Come on, Malcolm! Get a hold of yourself, this isn't real. Just a dream, a very realistic dream..."

He tentatively walked towards the front of the cave, still mumbling how unreal all of this was. But as he neared the cave opening, he tripped over something and face planted into the unforgiving hard cave floor. Cursing under his breath, he glared down at what he'd tripped over, it was a small wooden chest.

With a grunt of effort, he sat up and pulled the chest towards him, it was about the size of a shoe box though when he opened it, he didn't see a new pair of Jordan's. No, inside the box he found a strange assortment of items. There was a hunting knife, a small mirror, a rough cloth bag that looked like a messenger bag, and at the bottom of the chest were two folded pieces of paper. He unfolded one and saw a map of an area he wasn't familiar with; the land masses were completely foreign to him.

Now he wasn't the best in geography, but the map he held in his hands looked completely alien. At the top of the map it read "Adventures Map of The Realm", he looked at the largest land mass and read its name aloud.

"New Pangea?" He shrugged and picked up the other piece of paper.

This one was a letter, a letter addressed to him.

Dear Malcolm Freeman,

You might find yourself a tad bit disoriented, which is understandable. You also might have figured that you are no longer in your home realm, please don't be alarmed. This is real. You have been placed within my domain, known as The Withering Waste, try not to be intimidated by the name. It will be here, where you will make a name for yourself, I have given you a second chance to make something better than you were in your past life.

Malcolm scrunched up his face in confusion. Past life? What did this letter mean? He ran a hand through his coarse hair, his fingernails dug into his scalp. Scratching his scalp was a nasty habit he always did whenever he felt stressed, and this was a seriously stressful moment. Could he really be in another world? He looked up from the letter and stared out of the caves opening, marveling at the yellow sands of the desert and the perfectly cloudless sky.

"This is insane..." He muttered to himself.

But he was beginning to realize that this place was indeed real. He could feel the dry heat in the air, and even taste the gritty sand clinging to the insides of his mouth. He'd never had a dream this realistic and didn't have any friends extravagant enough to kidnap him and toss him into the desert.

Especially since he lived in Minnesota. Where the hell am I now? The Sahara? Arizona!?

"Past life..." Malcolm mumbled out loud. "Does that mean I died?" He racked his brain, he didn't remember dying. Parts of his memory were still a little foggy. "If I did die, then how am I here? Could this be... What's the word? Reincarnation?" He leaned against the cave wall and sat in silence for a good moment as he tried to come to terms with all the information he had received.

"The last thing I remember is heading to work, then there was that truck. Memory goes black after that..."

Realization hit him. "I died? The truck must've hit me... Holy shit!" Malcolm began to hyperventilate with a strange mixture of excitement and fear. "This is just like all of those anime and comics, I've been transported to another world!"

All his life Malcolm had been in a constant funk of hating his day to day life, he wasn't suicidal of anything, but the constant mundane grind of life bored him. He had always felt he was wasting is talents at his old job. He had always leaned on comics, manga, and videogames to fill his life with more excitement. And now he was in a new world. "Thank you, Truck-kun!"

With gusto, he began to re-read the letter.

Now, within this chest you'll find quite a few items. These are my gifts to you, meager as they may be. I wish I could've given you more, especially since you are already at such a disadvantage.

Malcolm's eyes widened at that.

But don't be fooled. This isn't a dream and most certainly isn't a game! This is your new life, make a name for yourself, grow stronger, and survive! Welcome to New Pangea. Do not disappoint me.

- LL

Before he could do anything, he was suddenly bombarded with a folly of floating glass-like windows popping into his vision.

Welcome Adventurer! You have been chosen by one of the Forgotten Gods to be their Harbinger. This earns you the title: Harbinger!

As a Harbinger you will receive six attribute points per level instead of the usual four!

You have received a Quest!

Quest: Make A Name for Yourself!

Info: Go forth and explore the Withering Waste, the home domain of a Forgotten God.

Reward: ???

"W-whoa, this is just like a game..." Malcolm tried to wave the windows away but his hands just went through them. "Uh, go away?" Malcolm shouted at the transparent windows. To his irritation another window popped in front of the other.

To get rid of Notification Windows, just blink in their direction and they'll disappear. As you grow more accustomed to them, you will be able to dismiss them with a single thought.

"Oh, now you want to be helpful!" Malcolm said as he began blinking like he was suffering from a seizure as other windows began to pop into his view, each dumping more and more information on to him.

You have found: A Hunting Knife. Damage: 1-5. Quality: Common

You have found: Superb Bag of Holding. Info: This bag has an interior space considerably larger than its outside dimensions. The bag can hold up to 500 pounds. The bag will weigh 10 pounds, regardless of its contents. Item will soulbind upon equipping. Quality: Epic.

You have found: Mirror of the Beholder. Info: This mirror will allow you to edit your own appearance in anyway. Though be careful, for the changes are permanent and after use this item will be destroyed. Quality: Relic

Malcolm spent the next half hour scrounging around the small cave for any more clues or hidden chest. There was nothing more to find. He glanced outside the cave, glaring at the oppressively bright sun hanging high in the sky. With a resigned sigh, he concluded that his only real choice was to go along with whoever wrote the mysterious letter. He'd have to leave the cave.

A few more prompts taught him how to bring up his own status page, so he could easily view his level and current stats.

Name: Malcolm Level: 1

Health: 100 Stamina: 100 Mana: 100

Strength: 5

Intelligence: 5

Wisdom: 5

Endurance: 5

Constitution: 5

Dexterity: 5

Agility: 5

Charisma: 5

Luck: 1

Money: 0 G 0 S 0 C

Fame: 0 (Who are you?) Title(s): Harbinger


Only 1 point in Luck?!
I guess being hit by a dump truck doesn't make me a lucky guy... He hoped that wouldn't affect anything, usually in most games luck was a wild card. Either it could affect the amount of loot you get or the chance to land a critical hit, often though it didn't really affect anything. He also found out he'd already been granted a few abilities.

Abilities

Gift of Tongues: Allows you to learn any language spoken around you. You must first hear the language to learn it. (Passive)

Tactical Savant: This ability makes it so that you have 100% affinity for any skill, weapon, or magical element. Making your potential nearly limitless. With this ability knowledge is indeed power! (Passive)

Skills

None.


"None!?" Malcolm tutted to himself. "Does that mean I have to rediscover all of my skills I had in my past life?" He pushed back the annoyance when he thought back to how decent he was getting at drawing and cooking. "Maybe my skills for cooking and drawing will increase faster because I already know them?" But then he stopped to think. Just what kind of world was this? In most anime and fantasy books when someone got transported to another world, the world is usually medieval. Though, this world could be futuristic for all I know! He thought to himself. Or it could be a whole John Carter of Mars scenario!

He looked down at himself and saw he was wearing a rough spun tunic and a pair of burlap sack quality trousers, a simple rope was tied around his waist to keep the trousers on his hips, and on his feet were a pair of threaded sandals that laced halfway up his calves. He tucked the hunting knife under his rope belt and tossed the bag onto his shoulder, once he did a small window popped into view in front of him.

Do you wish to soulbind Superb Bag of Holding? Yes or No. Once soulbound, this item can never be stolen from you or opened without your permission. The soulbind can only be undone if you willingly give it to a Companion or upon your death.

After reading the window Malcolm nodded his consent. Having a bag, he could store an insane number of items, and not having to worry about it being stolen was a serious boon. Upon opening the bag, a small window appeared at the corner of his vision, focusing on it he could see it was full of small empty boxes, 5 on top and 8 on the side adding up to 40 inventory slots. He dropped the letter into the bag and watched as the letter took up one square space.

"Okay, this is epic!" He said to himself. "Seems to run on the same mechanics as a bag of holding in a video game."

He reached to place the mirror in the bag next but as soon as he touched it another prompt appeared in front of him.

Do you wish to use Mirror of The Beholder? Yes or No. This mirror will allow you to edit your own appearance in anyway, painlessly. Though be careful, for the changes are permanent and after use this item will be destroyed.

Malcolm scratched at his chin in thought, should he even entertain changing his appearance? He wasn't ugly but he wasn't handsome either, all his years of sitting in front of his TV and eating absurd amounts of junk food had taken its toll. His face was a battlefield of pimples and old acne scars, his chin threatened to double itself, and his stomach was a far cry from the six pack he once had back in high school, it was more like a keg nowadays.

"Fuck it," He said with a shrug. "If this is all real, I'm gonna go all out!"

He tapped the mirror, it vibrated and hopped out of his hand. Once it hit the ground it expanded and widened. He could see his full appearance in the mirror as it inflated to his full height and width. In his reflection small tags were connected to each of his limbs and his face. Malcolm's eyes widened in amazement.

Hesitantly he selected the tag connected to his face, he highlighted the box that said "Acne" and pressed the remove button. And that was it. In an instant the acne scars and even the blooming zits were gone. All he felt was a slight warming sensation on his face and then nothing.

His hands twitched as they rubbed against his now smooth face.

"Holy scheisse!"

And with that, he started hacking at himself with reckless abandon. He tweaked his height, he weight, his hairline, heck he even fixed his weird looking pinky toe. When he was finally done, he took a step back and awed at the new him.

He now stood an even 6 feet, he used to be 5'6. Malcolm had absolutely hated being the "short guy" in his group of friends. He also added a strong chin that could slice through diamond, bye-bye double chin! He molded away his gut, and sculpted abs that'd make Terry Crews himself nod in approval. His eyes burned a bright shade of hazel and when he smiled, his sparkling white teeth shone.

"Sweet Christmas, I look amazing!" He said with a grin.

As he stared at the new him in the mirror, his smile began to slide off his now handsome face. This body was amazing, but it wasn't him. This wasn't the body of Malcolm Freeman, this was someone else entirely.

So, he went back to tweaking himself, toning down the features so he'd look less like a Ken doll and more like an actual person.

Stepping back, he nodded in approval. A prompt popped into existence in front of him.

Is this the form you wish to take? Take notice, these changes are permanent and will have no effect on your skill points or attributes.

Malcolm nodded again. The mirror fell to pieces in an instant, the fragments losing themselves in the ever-moving sands.

He still stood at 6 feet, there was no way he'd go back to being short. But as he stumbled out of the cave, he found it was going to take some time before he got used to his new height. His blubbery stomach was gone, he was still bulky, but it was a healthy bulk with more lightly toned muscle. He'd also switched his eyes back to their natural brown, the hazel was nice, but it was a bit off-putting to see his reflection and see someone else's eyes.

Besides he had his mothers' eyes, he'd be damned if he wiped away one of the last things, he had to remember her by. A wave of sadness washed over him. Would he ever see his family again? His pets? The cute girl who worked at the grocery store by his apartment?

Adamantly, he pushed those thoughts aside. "Being all sad and depressed won't help nobody! Just keep your head straight on your shoulders and move forward." Malcolm smirked as he quoted his father.

He was ready now. With an exhale he took his first steps out of the cave and into the bold new world of New Pangea.

"Look out world, here I come!"

And that's when the shit hit the fan.

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