Chapter 3: Isekai Life & Spell Selection

One HP.

My rosy life in another world, powered my immense magical abilities, to reward my life of (technically accurate) kindness and benevolence to animals of all kinds, was fading before my eyes.

My Heaven was looking more and more infernal by the second. Less like Final Fantasy and more like Dark Souls.

Technically, in AD&D a person of any class could wind up having abysmal HP. You’d have to roll at least a 15 Constitution to even get +1 HP at level one. Classes with better hit dice just gained improved chances.

If I was thinking as positively as possible, at least I wasn’t a 1 HP Fighter.

But all the same, a one hit kill character was just not acceptable!

I raised my hand and looked towards the puppy angel, who was corkscrewing slowly in midair, one hand reaching for her own tail.

“Excuse me, miss ... ah...”

“Oh, did I not introduce myself? I am the angel Corgiel.”

Corgiel. Of course. But then, if she’s a corgi why does she have floppy ears!? Dog is truly an inconstant diety.

“Right, ah, Miss Corgiel. Is it possible for a do-over?”

“Of course not, silly! Your Heaven has already been created, and we’re all waiting on you to finish!”

Ah, well.

Right.

Well, it’s simple enough. I just cannot take damage at all. Ha ha ha...

Part of my strategy just became infinitely more important.

“So, next would be my movement rate of 12, right?”

“Yes! And now it’s time to select your proficiencies!”

Ah, yes, proficiencies.

While future D&D games would have skills and skill ranks, humble AD&D simply allowed you to select a category of skill and master it completely.

While some of these skills could be of questionable use, many were downright essential, and there would be few opportunities to get more. Of course, if I survived being a one HP wonder, I would get all of them eventually on a long enough timeline, as Wizards gained new nonweapon proficiencies once every three levels, and weapon proficiencies once every six (but only have five weapons to choose from).

I had to decide carefully.

“For my weapon proficiency I choose ... darts.”

Darts were the premier wizarding weapon in AD&D. Cheap and easily replaced, anyone with a proficiency for darts could toss three of them per turn, and they dealt 1d3 damage each. For a class that started with a THAC0 of 20, three opportunities to hit per round was fantastic, and the ability to potentially crank out 9 damage with a little bit of luck was great.

“As for nonweapon proficiencies...”

Wizards were lucky and started with four nonweapon proficiencies. First, the proficiencies essential for survival: Direction Sense, Swimming, and Reading/Writing.

Monsters in AD&D did not have challenge levels- indeed, a DM’s skill at encounter design was very much an art and not a science, and using the monster’s hit dice as the equivalent of a PC level left a lot to be desired. So, straying from the path and hanging out in the wilderness would not be healthy for some time. Further, compasses were actually entirely absent from the equipment list due to some oversight by the developers. I couldn’t count on being able to find one in-game. So, Direction Sense was essential.

Water was the great enemy of all Player Characters. No matter your level, the water did not care- it drowned all within it’s cruel clutches equally, making it many a DM’s preferred method of assassination. Being able to swim gave me a chance of surviving the deadly deeps, and meant I could board a ship or cross a stream with slightly less risk to my person.

Finally, the text of the Reading/Writing proficiency implies that all characters without it are illiterate. While only the most cruel of DMs would ever enforce such a practice, Dog was at least cruel enough to mock my request for an HP reroll with a small guilt trip about how long I was taking. I could not take that chance. Besides, according to the text of Reading/Writing, I now automatically know how to read any language I can understand.

As for my final slot ... being able to ride a horse without breaking my neck wold be wonderful, but then visions of being fatally slapped by an upset noblewoman or punched by a surly drunk and dying instantly swam through my head. It would have to be Ettiquette, then.

“Yay! Time for equipment~”

Equipment was at least very simple. Wizards got their spellbook for free (a blessing, since new spellbooks cost 50 gold per page), and then 1d4+1 x 10 gold with which to buy additional equipment. With trepidation, I picked up the pyramidal d4 one more, and gave it a roll.

Well, fortune smiles on my financial success, at least. I have 50 gold to spend.

Twenty darts for self defense, two robes, belt, hat, boots. Backpack, three large belt pouches and four small ones, hand mirror, hooded lantern, some lamp oil, a small tent, and to top it off, a signet ring. I only had a gold and some change to spare, but the signet ring especially was key to my plans.

Moving on to the most important thing...

“So, when I select my spells, I’m to use the co-operative method, right?”

I can’t afford to have the DM select my spells for me, and I doubt in this situation I’d be allowed to pick whatever I want. So, I have to control the situation by forcefully offering a compromise.

“Sure, that’s fine~”

The “co-operative” method allows a player to roll 3d4, and select that many spells, rolling to see if they can learn them at level one. If they fail to learn a spell, the selection isn’t wasted, and they can keep rolling and re-selecting until they have all the spells they have coming to them, or they’ve exhausted the entire list of first level spells.