1st June 1329.

  Douglas, Scotland,

  Earth.

  Liam left the hall shortly after the Messenger delivered his news. Finding his way to the stables, Liam noticed the farrier fussing over the wounded horse.

  The man looked up at Liam. “She’ll live,” he said, indicating the horse, “but won’t be travelling for a while.”

  He shook his head in disgust. “You believe that tale? Harpies! Ha! His lordship lets you boys walk around with your heads in the clouds, he does. Coming up with tall tales to hide what is clear neglect!”

  Liam nodded, as if agreeing.

  Even after the Horns had sounded, people were reluctant to believe they lived in a new world.

  As he walked into the stalls, the other boys greeted him.

  “If it isn’t the Holy Wonder himself. Never did I see a man glow brighter than Liam Lamberton!” Aidan mocked as he used a shovel to heave another pile of muck into an over-full bucket.

  Andrew joined the greeting, “Aye, Liam the Harpy Slayer himself!” from his bent over position, rubbing a horse down with handfuls of fresh hay.

  Llywelyn, however seemed worried. "Did you see those beasts? I mean, they looked like nothing I've ever seen before!" he asked in a husky voice. The other boys had noticed he'd become unusually silent after the attack.

  Aidan agreed. "It was the eyes. They seemed aglow with a hate for everything, and the way those talons simply tore through mail!" he said, shivering. "It seems the creatures of hell do walk amongst us now!"

  "Don't say that. It could have been creatures from our..." Andrew began, but Llywelyn cut him off. "There's no way that was not from hell! Did you see the way it's body burned once Liam looted it? It was like it couldn't even stand being in our world!"

  Liam could hear the fear in Llywelyn's voice, and was about to try to reassure his friend, but Aidan continued. "That's a point!" he exclaimed. "Do you think that Wyverns or Dragons might turn up? Or boggarts, black-hounds, or redcaps? My da used to say that there were Duergar to the South of our lands. I think it'd be interesting to see so many tales come to life!"

  Andrew shook his head. "I don't know know much of them, but they sound evil." Llywelyn nodded in agreement.

  Llywelyn interjected. "I heard of Duergar, they're a race of dwarves who hide in mines and swamps to draw unwary folk to their deaths. They fight the good dwarves in their halls beneath the earth, as well as the goblins."

  Andrew perked up at that. "I've heard of goblins too!" He exclaimed. "Aren't they small men who help miners find gold?"

  "Aye, but they aren't men. My great grandfather saw them once when he raided the Forest of Dean. He said they're small creatures, but have a green skin, the color of water-moss." Llywelyn explained. "He told my grandsire when he was a boy that they had guided his men out of Gloucestershire when the English set a trap."

  "Wait. So they are good creatures too?" Andrew asked, "That harpy was nothing like the goblins you describe!" he said. "Maybe they'll come to our aid against the Harpies and other creatures of this world?"

  Llywelyn shook his head. "I don't think those Harpies came from Earth at all. I think they were from hell!" He said, and crossed himself. "Goblins and other creatures have always existed on earth, but since the age of Noah and the flood have hidden in the deep and dark places of the world. They were called 'monsters' but many of them are not unkind to men. My worry is where the hell creatures came from."

  Aidan turned back to his work. "Well, it isn't going to matter if Sir Keith catches us slacking. He'd likely tie us to the ramparts and let the harpies have us!" He said, grousing.

  Liam looked about for some way to help. His eyes settling on the bucket and shovel with a groan.

  Llywelyn nodded at the dung bucket, grinning. “That's right, O' great harpy slayer! We left the most challenging quest for you!”

  Liam sullenly pitched in, grabbing the bucket of dung and dragging it over to the spoil cart. Once it was full, they would hitch it to a horse and drag it out of town to be sown into the fields.

  “I didn’t kill it, you know,” Liam said, hoping that they would instead allow him to share the news the messenger had brought. “Besides, I have some bad news!”

  Llywelyn rolled his eyes. “He’s just trying to be modest. We all saw you glowing, just like that soldier who chopped the beastie up.”

  “Aye, that I did, but that isn't the point. I have some news from the King's court!” Liam said, impatient to give them the news. “The King is badly ill and Lord James is riding to court to be by his side.”

  “Sod.” Said Andrew, as the other boys used more choice curse words. They didn’t seem upset for the sake of the King, but put out by the news for another reason.

  “This isn’t good news, Liam. With Lord James gone, we’ll be at the mercy of Sir Keith. Usually Lady Tatania keeps him from the more cruel punishments like cleaning the chimneys or maintaining the lord’s privy, but I’m sure this time she’ll be leaving with Lord James! It's likely he’ll take the Squire with him too!” The other lads groaned.

  Squire Campbell was eminently popular with the boys, being both someone to look up to while also knowing many of the secrets of combat. Sometimes, when bored, he would gather the lads for an impromptu combat lesson.

  Liam had already learnt a few tricks that could save him should he ever have to face another Archer. Andrew, however, was becoming quite good at the blade, and now none of the other page boys could touch him with a sword and shield.

  “But surely Sir Keith isn’t that bad,” Liam said. “Perhaps he only wants us to learn that the life of a knight is to do what we must do, rather than what we would want to do?” He paused. That seemed a bit of a high and mighty thing to say. A vision had come up half-way through his analysis, though.

  “Can you tell me what this says?” Liam asked.

  Andrew read the text:

  The boys stopped what they were doing.

  “You mean we can increase wisdom? What about our other attributes too?” Llywelyn asked.

  “That would be a genuine gift from God!” Aidan said, whispering a prayer under his breath. “Could you imagine becoming strong enough to lift an ox!”

  Llywelyn nodded. “May the Passion of Christ give us strength to endure, and St David protect Wales.” He prayed as he crossed himself.

  Then he grinned, and another vision appeared before them. Llywelyn displayed it proudly.

  For the rest of the morning, the boys worked themselves to the bone, finding anything they could lift, sprint to, or carry. They even tried finding to discover clever new ways to do things, hoping figuring out the puzzle would increase their intelligence or experience.

  None of them received any points.

  As the afternoon passed into night, they had all achieved no significant gains, Liam once more opened his statistics screen. The additional point to [Wisdom] was nice, but he needed more vitality and strength to keep up with the other boys. Of them all, he was at least a point lower, while being a year older.

  While a carpenter's apprentice needed to train their body to an extent, it was not the hard vitality and strength the pages had become accustomed to when practicing fighting or training at the Pell.

  “Would you mind displaying your Statistics sheets?” Liam asked of his fellow pages. “I’m curious to know where we all stand in relation to each-other!”

  Andrew was the first to display them.

  Liam opened his own next to it to compare.

  Liam stayed silent as the other pages discussed the differences. “Well, I suppose the food we eat is why we’re stronger and have more vitality than Liam. But his luck is astonishing!” Aidan said.

  “And look at his titles! Those stars, what are they?” Andrew asked.

  Liam shrugged. “I do not know. It might have something to do with my luck being over 20, but I don’t know.”

  “Mine’s probably the highest aside from his.” He displayed his own statistics screen. “But 22! Is that even possible?”

  “Well, the title isn’t because he has an attribute over twenty. Your charisma is twenty!” he pointed out.

  “Why am I not surprised you’re the charismatic one?” Andrew said glumly. “I don’t understand it, though. You’re pig ugly!”

  Aidan laughed. “If I’m pig ugly, what does that mean for the Page with the 14 charisma stat?”

  “Hey!” Both Liam and Llywelyn said simultaneously offended at the idea that charisma defined their appearance.

  “Oh? What’s yours then?” Andrew said, looking at Llywelyn. By far, he was the most handsome of the four boys. So this confused them somewhat.

  “Eleven.” He said glumly.

  “Let’s see then!” Aidan demanded, and Llywelyn finally opened his Statistics screen up.

  All three of the other boys started laughing at the same time. “Hey!” Llywelyn said hotly. “I didn’t laugh at Liam’s lack of wisdom, nor at Andrew’s lack of intellect.” He turned on Aidan. “And you need Jesus.”

  “That’s not fair.” Aidan said. “I grew up too far from a church to learn faith like you did, spending all your childhood with monks!”

  “Yeah,” Andrew said, supporting his friend. “And I might be a clod sometimes, but well…”

  He ran out of things to say, so Liam stepped in. “But we all have our weaknesses.” he said. “Now that we know them, we can help each-other to overcome them. Maybe enough to prevent each-other from coming to harm!”

  The others agreed with this notion. For the next few hours, they discussed different aspects of their skills, attributes, and titles.

  *********************

  The next day, all four of the boys were sitting at the low table of the Great Hall, breaking their daily fast in the usual way, with flatbread, cheese, and mushy peas, helped down with some watered wine. Aidan snuck into the Keep’s kitchen and had liberated some slices of venison from the cold-larder.

  The wine wasn't enough to get them even slightly drunk, but it helped disguise the metallic taste of recently boiled water.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  As they ate, Andrew and Aidan chatted about the King’s sickness and what it might mean in the Tribulations. Andrew was of the opinion that the King’s illness would lead to another attack by the English regardless of the Horns.

  Aidan, however, believed that the weakness would merely hasten the unification of Christian Kings to face the Tribulations through the Church's leadership.

  Llywelyn stayed quiet, likely considering what this might mean for him. His status in court was as a guest and ward of the King as the heir to the Welsh throne, he may indeed incite the Welsh to rise against King Edward’s rule, especially given how impotent the English king seemed to be, being the same age as Liam.

  In the meantime, Liam looked over his statistics once more. Something about the Attributes was nagging at him.

  He suppressed a grin as he found he’d improved Tactics, Riding, Animal Husbandry, Maintenance and Athletics, while his Reading had also increased by 1, allowing him to understand most of the words provided in his statistics with a small effort.

  He pondered why God had granted them the ability to view their skills. Was this his way of guiding Mankind to control their own fates through the Tribulation?

  And what was a class?

  He stared at the word for a long moment. A scroll appeared. Liam was unfamiliar with the words and resigned himself to once more asking for help. “Llywelyn, could you read this for me?” He displayed the image.

  Llywelyn looked over and between stuffing his face with mouthfuls of bread mixed with watered wine. He muffed out the words, barely paying attention as he automatically translated from the Latin:

  The other boys stopped talking. Llywelyn spat out his food. “Wh.. Ho... Spfft… Sorry. How did you do that, Liam?” he asked.

  Liam looked at the other pages. “Just give me a moment.” He said.

  Liam now stared at the Available Attributes. It showed there were now 21. He stared hard at it.

  He displayed the result.

  This time, Aidan, Andrew and Llywelyn ran for the stairs to the second floor, leaving Liam deeply annoyed and staring at a jumble of nonsensical letters.

  Moments later, Lord James entered the hall. And Liam stood and bowed. The Lord looked morose, but his face lightened when he saw the display in front of Liam.

  “Well DONE Liam!” He bellowed, slapping his back in congratulations. “Now, can you do as it says?” He asked.

  Liam glared at his friends. “I’m sorry Milord, they left before translating it for me. I still do not understand the meaning!” He sounded deeply put out.

  His worry was so palpable that Lord James took pity on him and read it aloud.

  Liam tried, staring at ‘None,’ which came after ‘Class:’. Nothing happened. “Apologies lord, if there is a way, the message isn’t presenting itself anymore.” he said.

  As he finished, a thought seemed to occur to the Lord.

  “Well, regardless, we must rectify your lack of learning, and so we will. My wife knows the teaching of Latin well, as she taught our sons when they were wee bairns. She shall teach you as well.” Liam nodded gratefully.

  To not only spend time with Lady Tatania, but to have her undivided attention for hours at a time would certainly be a glorious thing.

  The Lord, not noticing the slight blush creeping onto Liam’s cheeks, continued on. “And this means you will join us en route to the King’s court. The Squire and other pages will also accompany us, so fear not. This may be an adventure within adventurous times, lad!”

  A small yelp of joy caused Lord Douglas to turn to find all three of the other pages grinning excitedly. He smiled and gestured that they return to their food.

  Excited by the prospect of a journey, the boys all thanked Lord James as they returned to their plates, but pointedly avoided touching their food. They sat waiting patiently until their Lord rolled his eyes, grabbed a small chunk of bread and popped it in his mouth.

  As the boys now felt their Lord had given permission, they all tucked into their meal, as they did their Lord spoke. “Now lads. I am giving you all a duty today. You are to spend the rest of the afternoon drawing weapons and armor from the Barracks.”

  He turned to Liam. “I do not have a set of chain for ye yet, lad, but we shall have some made soon enough. Until then there should be some gambesons of your fit, and you should take a shield too.”

  Now the boys were almost giddy with pleasure.

  SWORDS!

  “But I want you all to complete another task for me. Work together on finding what Liam is to do with the Available Attributes. They have the sound of a resource we can use, and we need everything we can to keep safe in the Tribulations to come.” The Lord finished, standing up.

  “Now finish your food and off wi’ye. The Squire will give you further instructions. After you break fast.” The lord said, leaving.

  The boys stood and bowed once more to their departing Lord and then immediately turned and erupted into boasting, planning, and expounding upon fantasies of knightly feats. Liam was no different, but remembered the conversation about intent with Sir Keith. Indulging in boyish fantasies of knighthood was a waste of time when the path to it was open in front of him. He turned back to his contemplation of what his statistics.

  Liam stared at the words: Available Attributes. I wish I could figure out what this means! He thought.

  Sighing, he once more displayed the text. He was becoming increasingly frustrated with the inability to read in Latin. While he could display words in English. He could only do so if he’d heard them before. Right now, he knew far less Latin words than the system. To his mind, what it displayed was a mix of English and Latin, making it barely comprehensible at the best of times.

  This time, Andrew pitched in and read out the text. Liam immediately accessed his Statistics vision spotting the small + signs beside all the attributes.

  While he and the other boys had discussed what they thought these attributes defined, he suspected each related specifically to a number of things, and were not as simple as their definition.

  As the other boys discussed what this meant, Liam refocused on his statistics.

  He focused on the Intelligence attribute, and pondered it,

  What does this mean?

  He supposed that it was likely the most important attribute to increase in order to learn how the system worked.

  When Liam displayed this, Aidan read it out, and the other boys stopped their conversation when they understood what it meant.

  The Available Attributes could be placed into each of the attributes, raising up their power in that area.

  “I think we should put our attributes into intelligence!” Liam said. He thought that this was probably the most useful, as gaining knowledge of the system was going to allow them to better inform their choices in the long run.

  Anyway, it seemed unlikely they would see combat as often as they had.

  From what the other Pages told him, life before Liam arrived had been quite dull. The Men at Arms constantly protecting everyone from danger whenever they left the safety of the keep.

  As the soldiers had gained levels now too, Liam saw no reason for this to change. Even with the sounding of the Horns.

  The boys talked about the benefits and problems with assigning points to intelligence.

  Liam was of the opinion it was one of the most beneficial skills to develop, but Aidan and Llywelyn disagreed.

  Both believed that the physical abilities were the safer option, especially strength and vitality.

  Andrew was focussing on his own visions, rapidly reading through the information as he did so, but stopped to read out the visions Liam displayed of each attribute.

  The pages were in awe. This was significant, and given what the Available Attributes screen had said, the + symbol allowed them to increase their attributes after leveling. Aidan swore when he realized this.

  “I bloody knew levels would come in useful!” He said. “If you had given me the crossbow, Andrew, I might have hit the Boar just once! I could have gained at least one!”

  “Don’t blame me!” Andrew said defensively. “Llywelyn was there too!”

  This caused Aidan to burst into bewildered laughter. “So the reason I shouldn’t blame you, is that you’re throwing your friend under the cart too?” He turned to Llywelyn. “Well? Have you anything to say for your treacherous conspirator here?”

  “Only that with your archery skill, I doubt you would have hit the boar. You may have hit Liam instead.” He quipped.

  Aidan slumped back in his chair. “Well, I can’t deny I’m a terrible shot with any kind of bow. But you wouldn’t even allow me one shot!” He perked up as Liam came up with a suggestion.

  “We’re going to be travelling with Lord Douglas to Cardross tomorrow. Perhaps we’ll find some opportunity to help you level then?” He said. “I’m sure that if we all work together, we can ensure that we get Aidan up to our levels before we enter the King’s court.”

  The others nodded, swearing that if the opportunity presented itself, they would help Aidan in reaching their current level. A glow surrounded each of them, and Aidan gave them all a grateful smile. While Liam could tell he remained upset, the oath had at least mollified him somewhat.

  “I’m going to attempt to assign some points.” Liam said. “Let me know if you notice any changes!”

  Liam displayed his Statistics screen and then extended his thoughts towards the + symbol next to his most needed attribute.

  The displayed vision of his Statistics screen now showed Intelligence: 10+.

  The other boys were looking over the display of all the information shown by Liam’s visions, but none immediately noticed the change.

  Andrew spoke, easily distracted, as always. “I suppose it makes sense he has Luck at 22. Who else heard of a peasant being created a page, even if their father was a Guardian of Scotland?” He asked. The other boys nodded agreement, yet none seemed jealous of his good fortune, refocusing on his statistics.

  Liam dropped another 4 points into Intelligence.

  PAIN! It exploded through his skull, shooting down his back and spreading from his spine outwards to encompass his entire form.

  Liam clutched at his head as his vision became… no… his thoughts became clearer. Then came more pain. It felt like the same sensation when he ate fresh snow and all the space behind his eyes ached.

  Fortunately, the pain faded quickly and then - he could really think. It was as though someone had taken off blinders, but for his mind, rather than his eyes. He was far more aware of his surroundings, noticed details more rapidly, and all the options in the world suddenly seemed flung open to him.

  He wondered why he had such a troublesome time with simple problems in his recent past. Now all the answers he’d struggled with seemed obvious.

  Liam stopped assigning points there. He wasn’t sure if the pain had been from putting too many points into the attribute too quickly, or whether it was warning him of definite physical harm in his immediate future. Perhaps he would need to increase his Vitality next in order to reduce the pain.

  The feeling faded just as quickly as it came, however, and he looked around at his fellows. Their jaws hung agape as they locked their eyes onto the updated Intelligence: 14+.

  All three pages dropped everything once more, this time calling out shrilly to their Lord as they sprinted up the spiral staircase.

  A bellow of laughter echoed out as Lord James returned once more, waving away Liam’s attempt to stand. As he reached Liam, he grinned as wide as the day was long.

  “Not only do you have the wits and God given luck to raise yourself from the peasantry, you become the first in town to figure out this riddle. How did you learn to do it?” The lord asked.

  Liam then displayed the Available Attribute text. Strangely, it was now both in English and entirely legible to him.

  Reading +1. Another display appeared below the first.

  “Milord, I’ve discovered that we can bring up details of our own statistics by thinking ‘Show information’ when staring at a piece of text.” Liam said, his improved intelligence clarifying the situation in an instant.

  Lord James looked carefully at the display. Seeing that Liam had far more attributes than anyone else, he suggested, “Liam, would you be willing to allow me to try something?”

  “Yes Milord,” Liam bowed. “What would you have of me?”

  “I believe we need to run some trials before you begin your packing.” the Lord said, and smiled as he saw Liam nod, not wishing to disappoint his Lord.

  “Let’s start with strength.” He said. He brought up his statistics. “Mine is at 15 right now.”

  Liam displayed the information for Strength. "We discovered what it does, Milord, but not what happens when you assign it!"

  “Well Liam, if you’re willing to try it, we may as well see if you can match my strength!” The Lord said. “I’m curious to know if the system will reduce your strength because of our difference in size and age! I doubt it, but these things are useful to know.”

  "Yes Milord," Liam said.

  He hadn't been keen on assigning his attributes to strength, preferring wisdom and intelligence, as they boosted skills.

  Then again, I'm already weaker than the other Pages, so perhaps only a few would give me a more even footing in combat training.

  So far all he'd achieved was to get regularly trounced. Even Aidan could handily beat him in the bind, or in unarmed combat. As a result, his skill progress was slow.

  "I'm ready when you are!" he said, stepping forward. The other pages all nodded whispering encouragement. They were all keen to see how increasing the strength attributes would affect Liam.

  Lord James moved to the end of the table, and with both arms, tried to lift one end. The thick oak of the table board must have weighted about six hundred pounds. After all, it was twenty feet long. The end he held moved about an inch above the trestles holding it from the ground. Lord James grunted, even though over half the table's weight still rested upon the far supports.

  The Lord heaved a bit more, straining. The end of the thick oak table he held rose about half a foot off the mountings. The Lord gasped in relief as he set it back in place. A sheen of sweat covered his face as he stepped away.

  “Liam, try to lift it as you assign points.” Liam nodded. Standing, he moved to replace his lord’s position, both arms beneath the table.

  “Now, try adding to your strength attribute. Not all your Available points, mind you, but just enough until you can move the table.”

  Liam did so. Putting two of the attributes into his strength. Then, seizing the edge of the trestle table through the sudden surge of power, he tried to lift, all the while keeping his statistics displayed beside him.

  His forearms flexed and then suddenly bulged, expanding as the power rushing into them caused sudden growth. His back seemed to broaden and his straining legs became noticeably thicker than they had been.

  Liam put two more points into strength. His forearms began to writhe as his visible veins were pushed into new configurations. Muscles that he’d never seen before flexed into existence and stretched his skin taut. The table was not moving.

  He put another point in and focused on the table. Straining, Liam kept his focus on the table and lifted with all his might.

  Four things happened in quick succession.

  Two messages appeared.

  The table lifted an inch off the ground.

  Liam fainted.

  As consciousness left him, he displayed both messages.

  First: History.

  Ok, so if you've at all read through the chapter there are two things you notice immediately. 1: Robert the Bruce is ill.

  True story. The King was badly ill in the summer of 1329. So badly in fact that his nobles were summoned to Cardross.

  2. Liam was knocked out by a table.

  Medieval furniture was very rare. This meant that the furniture was usually (the tables in the Douglas great hall being the exception for this fiction) being moved from house to house as the nobility moved around their estates. The reason the Douglas furniture is the exception is threefold:

  I needed something heavy that was readily availabe for Liam to lift.

  Colm is a Master Carpenter, so furniture in Douglas would NOT have been so rare.

  ANYWHERE.

  So.

  That's the History bit.

  As to the red-boxes.

  I have so much more appreciation for authors like Shirtaloon, First Defier, etc, who have books with millions of words and thousands of text boxes.

  They are PAINFUL to format onto a web browser. I mean, an hour of finicky "stuff". So please, if you get a chance and see this, be kind to the writers. We are really trying super hard to make this immersive reading for you.

  We may not get it right, and yeah. That's disappointing, but my fingers are actually in pain from this. I'm going to grab some ice, a coffee and come back in a moment.

  Ok, don't worry about the coffee. I have an old one right here. It's ice cold after that 7 hour edit. It'll do.

  The second really interesting thing is how much fun this is to write. I've seriously been here, on my weekend slapping away at a keyboard. 9 hours straight.

  That's right people. You think YOU have no life? HA! I raise you one level of neetism... the aspiring web novelists life.

  Genuinely hope you all enjoy!

  Let me know what you think of the System.

  There's a whole lot more to it, but this should get Liam started on a bit of self-deterministic leveliing for the time being.

  Thanks again for being awesome.

  Also, It's just got done with my Birthday, Yay me.

  Much love.

  Carl.