\Tell me truthfully, in any MMORPG when has someone ever decided by themselves to become the healer?
Have you realized something, that this vital role is never sought after by any player?
No one wants to be the support. Players seek classes that can showcase their prowess and carry their party through any situation.
Everyone wants to be the person that caused the most damage. This action rewards them with bragging rights and brings about envious gazes.
The healer class can strengthen a team composition drastically.
But it's a position that is regularly designated to the weakest and least respected member of a group.
Making it something everyone tries to avoid./
-You have chosen the class Cleric.-
-Is this your final choice? Y/N.-
Art pressed the Y on his interface. Instantly he felt a surge of some unknown power flow through his body. It was somewhat divine.
-You have chosen your class as Cleric, here is your interface.-
___________
Art - Male (21)
Class: Cleric
HP(status): Above-average physique, (healthy) .
Strength: 1.5
Agility: 1.5
Ability Power: 0
Mana: 0 / 0
Stamina: 130 / 130
Skills: Na
Spells: Na
Holy Spells: Smite
Traits: Athlete (Runner), Holy power affinity
__________
Smite: Embue object or body part with divine energy to smite your foes. Extra damage, greatly increased stun chance. Cooldown 20 seconds.
Athlete (Runner): 0.6 increase to Strength, 0.8 increase in Agility, 20 increase to Stamina.
Holy power affinity: Slight increase to Holy Spell power, all Holy Spell cooldowns reduced by half.
...
"Art, you are something else!"
"Huh?"
"You might live through this!"
The voice finally spoke up, going back to its original state.
"You have very strong base stats and a great Holy Spell for your current situation. Looking back at your memories I can only find one explanation for your marginal increases in strength, agility, and stamina. That would be the fact that your home planet had a higher gravity than that of Kittirath. Truly something unseen!"
Art was overjoyed by the voice's analysis.
"That's great!"
"So it seems. Yet this and your Holy power affinity must be a way to balance out the fact that you have no ability power and mana. Without these, two your ability to learn any non-holy elemental spells is absolutely 0."
This hit him like a truck. (Due to his past experiences the feeling was not something he was unfamiliar with.)
"I don't know whether I should laugh or cry."
Art froze up.
Then he heard it again.
*Rustle* *Rustle*
He slowly turned around, then he saw it. A shiny name tag.
-Mediocre Wolf-
"Who the fuck gave you such a sorry name."
Art thought.
"I know right. I would have named him Jimmy."
Art's eyes instantly widened to the size of saucers as he realized that the voice could hear his thoughts.
"Full of surprises am I not?"
The voice communicated telepathically. This was something that Art had missed as their conversation had sounded wholly normal in his ears. Or was it his mind? He didn't even know anymore.
"Look down Art, the benevolent and merciful system has decided to equip you with some class armor and a weapon!'
Heeding the words of the voice he looked down and realized that what it said was true. His brown tunic was now covered by a tattered, forest green cloak. In his right hand, he had what looked like a short yet thick walking stick.
"Shit, with no shoes my hobo look has finally been complete."
He accidentally said out loud.
"There's no use in hiding now. I believe Jimmy there has spotted you."
There was a glint of red followed by two plumes of white mist exhaled through the wolf's nostrils. It snarled and then started to bound forward. Its eyes locked onto Art's neck.
The wolf jumped up, opening its jaws wide. Its silver teeth glinting like stars in the moonlight.
Luckily for Art, his tale didn't end there, which would have made his death the fastest recorded in Kittirath. Out of reflex, he brought up the stick to protect his face. Determination and fear flashed through his eyes, but he held on.
He ended up on the ground with the wolves spittle dripping down onto his chin, out of the corner of his eye he saw something on his interface light up.
-The Final Quest has been activated.-
-Due to the nature of the system holders current situation the quest has been automatically accepted.-
-The Final Quest (Survival of the Fittest):
The world of Kittirath has subjected you to the first of many trials and tribulations. Defeat your first enemy to acquire a class-based skill/spell.
This is the last quest that will be given to you by the system. To gain any further skills/spells you will need to develop them yourself.-
Art finished reading the message as two deep slash marks appeared on his chest. While he was distracted it had taken two swipes at him.
The wolf, now lusting for the smell of blood coming from Art's chest repeated its attack. Seeing this Art readied himself to fight back. Grasping the stick firmly in his two hands he took a swing.
*WHOOSH*
The trajectory of the wolf's leap and Art's stick swing looked to be perfectly aligned. Alas, lady luck decided that Jimmy was more deserving of her blessing than Art.
Art missed completely.
The launched stick attack hit only air.
It might have been the moonlight but the wolf seemed to be smirking. It bit down vigorously on Art's forearm.
"Ooo... that looks painful."
"Shut the fuck up Vee!"
The voice's name had been decided amid combat.
A kick from Art separated him and the wolf once again. Although this time with a burger patty-sized chunk of his left arm.
The pain reminded him of how he had once broken his arm on his last day on the college baseball team.
"Wait a second."
He thought.
"Baseball..."
Then it clicked. Looking down, he put two and two together. His sticks shape was not far off that of a baseball bat.
A plan surfaced.
Gritting his teeth to fight through the pain and the lightheadedness caused by blood loss, he readied himself. Whilst this time he took up a batter's stance.
Having gulped down the child's meal-sized chunk of meat the wolf licked its lips. It decided not to change its attack pattern, it was simple yet effective and had yet to fail.
Once again it charged, leaping up into the air. Its fur flapping in the wind. Its eyes were red with bloodlust. Its jaws open, drooling like a garden sprinkler.
What happened next was utterly unexpected. (Lady luck must have finally had a change of heart.)
Art twisted his upper body, locking his hips, executing a perfect batting posture.
He swung his makeshift bat.
"Smite!!"
Following the scream, divine bright light enveloped Art's stick. It sailed through the air.
Connecting with the side of the wolf's head, it launched its body up an extra meter into the air.
Homerun style.
*BANG*
The wolf, clearly stunned, fell to the ground in a heap.
By this time Art had realized that thinking would win him this battle.
So he took action, grasping the stick like a prisoner ready to break up some stone blocks into gravel.
Then he went absolutely ham.
Bones crunched, blood spurted everywhere. Yet he didn't stop pummeling away at what had once been Jimmy's head.
...
Completely exhausted he fell onto his backside, breathing heavily. All he could hear was his heart hammering away in his chest.
He hadn't given the wolf even a chance to retaliate.
Art was covered from head to toe in blood, both Jimmy's and his own.
-Congratulations.-
-You have completed the quest: Survival of the Fittest.-
-You have achieved a pyrrhic victory.-
-You have acquired a Holy Spell: Low Level Heal.-
"Well done on your first kill Art. See I always believed in you!"
Art didn't know how to respond to the treacherous voice, so he just opened up his interface.
__________
Art - Male (21)
Class: Cleric
HP: Above average physique (exhausted, minor blood loss, hurt)
Strength: 1.2 (temporarily reduced due to HP statuses)
Agility: 1.2 (temporarily reduced due to HP statuses)
Ability Power: 0
Mana: 0 / 0
Stamina: 20 / 130
Skill: Na
Spells: Na
Holy Spells: Smite, Low Level Heal.
Traits: Athlete (Runner), Holy power affinity
__________
Low Level Heal: Ranged Holy Spell (10 Meters). Closes up small wounds. Helps in overall recovery and stimulates the creation of extra blood cells. Cooldown 5 mins. (What? Did you expect some overpowered second ability? Sorry to disappoint but he's just a healer :) .)
...
"Well, I guess it's time to try this new ability out."
"Low Heal!"
Shouting the spell's verbal activator Art pointed a palm at his chest and sat down on a nearby tree stump. The pure and holy energy that filled him could only be described as one thing.
A hug.
The last time he had felt this relaxed was when he was enjoying his free time with his mother. They had been watching a movie together while crunching away on popcorn.
This was the last memory he had of his mum before she had become bedridden.
"Hey Art? Art? You still there?"
"Yes, I'm okay now Vee."
Art replied with an exhausted sigh. Smiling sadly, while he remembered this happy memory.
"Seems like this healing ability was a real godsend. You would have bled out and died without it."
"Thanks for your optimism, Vee."
Art said with a tired sniff. The values on his interface had changed after the use of his ability.
"Just saying..."
Was the timid reply he heard while checking his stats.
His HP now had an extra status: Under the effects of Low Level Heal. Furthermore both his Strenght and Agility had bounced up to 1.3.
"Truly a godsend."
Art thought analyzing the benefits of his new status effect.
...
Remembering where he was he picked up Jimmy's carcass. Starting to make his way through the woods.
He then remembered from some nearly forgotten old biology lesson that he could locate a flowing water source by looking at which side of the trees the moss grew on. (His memory must have failed him as this was not a way to find a water source but the direction of North.)
His assumption had been way off the mark, but that didn't stop fate's decision to be merciful.
*Trickle* *Trickle*
"Finally, water."
Getting closer and closer to the sound eventually noticed the stream. Its water gleamed in the moonlight, it was a double full moon that night.
"Oh, this for sure isn't Earth..."
"No shit Sherlock!"
Ignoring Vee's annoying comment, he dropped Jimmy onto the ground and ran up to the stream.
Art got down on his knees. Using his hands like a bowl he cleaned himself off of the blood that had yet to dry on his body.
He quickly worked out that his clothes would need a more thorough clean.
Still covered with a light stench of blood he started to drink the clear and cold water.
...
"Wow, that was great!"
Art gasped for breath. He felt refreshed, his worries washed away by the spring water.
*Growl*
Having quenched his thirst he realized just how hungry he was.
His eyes turned to the corpse of the Wolf that was once named Jimmy.