Oliver stared at the glowing red words that floated in front of the cave. For some reason, the air seemed to have gotten colder. The frosty breath that emerged out of the mouth of the cave sent shivers down his spine. The reaction was a mixture of exposure to the frigid gust and the fear of the unknown.
He looked down at his blackened fingertips clutching the wooden crutch. One of his feet had been dragging behind him slightly as he had made his way through this underground biome. His condition was still poor, even with the increased motivation from the warmth. He had barely eaten in the last 5 days, only ingesting the extremely fatty protein bars his survival backpack offered him.
This cave was going to have to wait. Clearly this place did not follow the laws of the normal world, this cave could hold anything from monsters to another biome, or most likely both. The priority right now would be getting back into a semblance of health. To do so, he would need to acquire food, which he was lucky enough to know where to find.
With a last look at the red warning and the dark depths of the cave, Oliver turned his back to the cave and shuffled back towards the pond. That adventure will be for another time, for now he had to secure his source of food.
As he made his way back to the pond he kept his eyes peeled for a specific type of tree. The vegetation loomed in close to the river as they sensed the presence of the brook and the free sunlight that could be gathered due to the absence of any other vegetation growing above the banks. He took inventory of all the different plants that grew in this location, he might have a use for them in the future so it couldn't hurt.
As he neared the pond he spotted exactly what he was looking for. More specifically what the scavenging skill had instructed him to find.
Long wispy leaves loomed over a certain part of the brook, they hung low on long branches that tilted down. A tree that resembled a willow grew old and large in this section of the creek. The branches were exactly what he was searching for. He grabbed the nearest one and started to saw through it with the back of the multi-tool knife. After a few minutes of sawing through the branch, it broke and cracked onto the ground.
[Billow Willow Branch acquired.]
[Branch of a Willow tree extremely sensitive to changes in wind, expels airborne seeds when conditions are right. This branch is quite flexible.]
Oliver stripped the leaves off the branch, he only wanted to keep the wooden part to make an improvised fishing rod. His new skills had directed him to this semi-common tree as it was known to have highly flexible limbs that could support a good amount of stress. Using his knife, he smoothed out the branch till it resembled a 6 foot long fishing rod shaft. Now all that was missing was the fishing line.
Luckily for him, his survival pack came with a fishing kit. He walked over to the side of the pond and tied one end of the string to the tip of the rod and attached his Mickey Finn fly to the other end as a lure. The striped yellow and red deer fur would be a sharp contrast in the crystal clear water, he hoped the fish would be interested.
[Willow Fishing Rod successfully crafted.]
[Material: Billow Willow Wood]
[Quality: Sub-par.]
[Creator: Oliver Plante.]
Seems like the quality was still sub-par. It might be linked to his overall skill in crafting or maybe his current condition. Only time would tell if he could fabricate normal equipment or tools. Perhaps there were specialized crafting skills he needed to unlock to gain access to higher quality creations.
In any case, the fishing rod lay horizontally on his lap as he sat cross-legged a few meters from the pond. He had chosen a rocky area where there were little reeds and the water seemed deep enough to host a good number of fish. He saw small shadows flittering about near the shoreline, he decided to cast out his line in that direction.
The Mickey Finn fly flew through the air and landed with a soft plop into the water. The shadows scattered as the ripples and disturbance seemed unnatural in this small body of water. It was now a game of patience.
The fish gradually started to approach the brightly coloured tackle. Oliver felt some very small nibbles, but these fish were no bigger than the lure he currently used. He did not bother to try and hook these puny ones, he was not that desperate yet.
Suddenly, some of the small fish seemed spooked and darted off into a nearby cluster of cattails. Oliver cursed under his breath as he thought he had pulled on the rod and caused another ripple. He was about to bring in the fishing line when a larger shadow caught his eye as it emerged from a deeper pool.
This fish was at least a foot long and seemed to have many fins coupled with a big mouth. The rest of the details were blurry as it kicked up dirt as it swam slowly towards the bait. Oliver felt a trickle of sweat roll down his forehead as he thought of the potential supper that might be about to take his bait. He tried to remain as still as possible as he watched this predator slowly swim up to the lure.
The fish circled the bait a few times, the fly lying motionless and colourful on the surface of the water. In one fell strike, it jumped at the tackle and breached the water with its explosive momentum. As this happened, Oliver pulled on the fishing rod with one swift upward motion. The fishing line went taut and the Willow Fishing Rod bent down as it started to support the weight of the fighting fish.
Oliver smiled at first when he saw the fishing line grow tight, but his smile became more and more distressed as he realized that this fish did not have a meager amount of strength. If anything, he almost pitched forward when the creature in the water decided to dart left and then immediately right with explosive movements. This fish might have only been a foot long, but it packed one hell of a punch.
The rod bent violently as he pulled the fish closer to the shore, wading into the water to get closer. The fish breached the surface of the pond and splashed about in the air. It wiggled around rocks and through reeds, but Oliver managed to keep it on his hook. Needless to say, Hunger was the cause of both the human's and the fish's stress.
With his arms screaming due to the amount of force this fish could put on the hook, Oliver let out a cry and pulled desperately upwards to try and land the fish. The fish was also tired and decided to rest for a moment before fighting back but did so with unfortunate timing. With a swish, the fish flew out of the water with the fishing line, directly towards Oliver who had both hands up in the air.
Both fish and human had surprised expressions as this occurred, but the latter had quicker reaction speed and better movement outside the water. As if the fish was a football being thrown towards him, he caught it in his arms and held on for dear life. The fish squired and flared all its fins in an attempt to wriggle free from its captor. Oliver waded out of the shallows, squeezing with all his might to make sure the fish could not escape. He finally walked near an outstretched rock that lay a few meters from the shore, grabbed the fish by placing two fingers in its gills and slammed the head of the fish onto the rock right between the eyes.
The fish died instantly, a white text floating above its corpse as soon as its nerves stopped flinching.
[Level 3 Pond Frogfish killed.]
[30 experience points acquired.]
Experience points? This system truly seemed to work like a video game. As surprised as Oliver was, he was much more interested in eating this Frogfish. While cutting it up into sashimi and eating it raw was an option, his survival skill told him it would be much safer to gut it and eat it cooked. After all, he did not know if this fish had any parasites living in its flesh, and taking that risk was simply un-wise.
He set about cleaning the fish with the Swiss knife and gathering branches for a fire. He chose to use matches instead of his flint and steel as it would be quicker and he'd wanted to use them before they caught humidity. Using a small stick to prop up the fish next to the fire, Oliver patiently waited for the fish to cook, occasionally turning it to ensure equal heat.
***
The Frogfish meat was as slimy on the inside as it was on the outside. It was absolutely filled with bones, unsalted and mushy. It might as well have been like eating pond scum, which was most likely where it got its name from. However, beggars could not be choosers and Oliver was simply happy to eat a warm meal next to a fire. He felt himself satisfied with eating something for the first time in little under a week, even if it was gross and slimy.
Finished with picking through the bones and having put up his non essential clothes on nearby branches, he patted his stomach and felt relaxed. It felt good to not be surrounded by the shrieking gusts of snow and wind that frequently bothered him at night. The loss of his tent was unfortunate but perhaps it was the accident that brought him to this place. It was best to keep a positive outlook on the whole situation, thinking he had come within a hair's width away from dying was not the best idea.
He looked down at his stomach and was shocked to see something had changed with his hand. He lifted it closer to inspect it. The frostbite that had previously rendered the entire tips of his fingers a blueish black had slowly begun to fade, now leaving only the tips slightly discoloured. It was as if his body was healing itself!
His other hand was also experiencing much of the same healing factor. Now that he thought about it, his feet seemed to hurt slightly less, though he still did not dare remove his socks to check.
Oliver was stunned as he stared at both his hands. Food seemed to have a miraculous healing effect in this world. He sat back down and tried to rationalize how this could be possible but no explanation came, at least not one that he could prove at the moment. He would test out different theories in the future but his most promising idea linked his life energy with experience.
Oliver suddenly had a flash and concentrated on the word "experience".
[Current experience: 30/100.]
[View status? Yes or No?]
He immediately thought yes. A new window of text popped up in front of him, like a video game information panel.
[Oliver Plante]
[Level 1 scavenger]
[Current experience: 30/100.]
[Age:28]
[Sex: M]
[Alignment: CG]
[Health: 15/21]
[Skills:
Scavenger level 1, Makeshift Crafting level 1, Survival level 1, Hunger/Thirst Reduction level 1, Hunting level 1.]
Overjoyed with the discovery of being able to see his stats and information whenever he wished, he immediately remembered to think of 'status' if he wanted access to this panel. By thinking it again it dissipated from his view.
Oliver wanted to see what happened if he leveled up and knew that fish were an adequate source of exp, plus would give him a reserve supply of food. He thus stoked the fire happily and readied his fishing rod. He would give those pond fish hell if he had to, he was in better condition now anyway.
[Level 4 Pond Frogfish killed.]
[40 experience points acquired.]
[Level 1 Pond Frogfish killed.]
[10 experience points acquired.]
[Level 2 Pond Frogfish killed.]
[20 experience points acquired.]
[You have reached the experience threshold, leveling up class attributes.]