Time Since Reckless Self-Endangerment: 0 Days 9 Hours

Goal: Kill 'Baby Boots'

By the end of an hour Nic had won the monkey tribe’s trust. They hung in the trees to watch as he painted mud runes onto their crude axes, spears, and even sling stones. The payment fell to his feet in the form of spirit fruits and he ate like a demon, sucking the juice from his fingers and spitting the seeds into a leaf pouch before returning to work.

On every single weapon he placed two designs. One a simple sharpening and strengthening glyph. The second, Lakash, keyed to his own aura.

The second design massively reduced the profits he was earning, but they were being generous enough that he didn’t mind in the least. The real prize being won was their trust and an ally in the poison grove.

Even as the payments grew less abundant and poorer members of the tribe came forward he continued to work. Pushing 1,000 Essence into Efficiency at the very start was a wise decision because by the end he’d spent nearly 3,000 in crafting glyphs, recouping a good third of the cost. The rest was more than covered by the fruits and he also swiftly purchased two upgrades to the Base Enhancement.

With each upgrade he felt the glyphs coming to life. They were stronger, holding more energy, but also somehow alive. There was a spiritual force guiding his hand as he continued to draw.

Hunter-Gatherer Petroglyphs (G)

Creates crude tools from bone, rock, and wood, using Essence to bind them. A low-quality crafting Shard made excellent by the limitations of your environment.

III Base Enhancement (668/1,500)

I Add Essence Efficiency (0/2,000)*

Secondary Slot (0/10,000)

Metallurgy (0/100,000)

One thing he swiftly came to realize was that glyph-crafting already had a hidden discount- using his Shards naturally added Essence towards improving their Base Enhancement, and Hunter-Gatherer Petroglyphs grew much faster through use.

“Not quite. Actually, the reason it’s growing faster is because you’re learning, rather than simply doing. Every time you draw a glyph you’re refining your technique.”

Nic paused to think about it. Actually it made a lot of sense. He was constantly learning how to better impress the specific intents each glyph required into the material, and how each different form of ink - mud, berry juice, blood - channeled that willpower differently in the flow of Essence that carried it down into the weapon.

In a sense his practice with Fundamental Runes was paying off. He had learned how to practice all forms of runic design.

As he climbed partway up the tree to hand the final weapon with its new enhancing glyphs up to the small, runtish monkey who’d been pushed to the back of the cue, an enormous paw reached down to seize him. He almost panicked before realizing the grip was gentle.

The monkey was inviting him up.

He was hauled into the upper branches to come face to face with an enormous gibbon.

Red-Faced Thief of a Hundred Hands. F-Class // Sapient. This creature was born as a common Chitinous Gibbon but managed to achieve a Shard and ascend to F-Class. Following its ascension on the Great Chain it can manifest its hands through small portals, stealing any object that can fit or delivering attacks from cunning angles. The intelligence within was formerly a common thief of noteworthy talent.

It grinned, peeling back its uncomfortably flexible lips to show yellow teeth. Holding up a shard of bark it showed him a map written on the inside in crushed beetle pulp.

The river. The forest. And leading away from the forest, a series of broad pools that fed into the river from an underground cave system beneath. The monkeys had clearly spent days scouting the area. There were numerous crude depictions of monsters littering the caves and a number of tallies next to each one that indicated how many scouts had died there.

The numbers were uncomfortably high.

It pointed to one monster in particular. A horse with a waving mane that resided in a dry cavern close to the surface. Then it tapped its fingers against a symbol of a flower behind it before pointing to its own chest.

“A treasure. You want it.” Nic said, and remembering for the nth time they couldn’t understand he nodded as well.

Next it tapped the small Shard set in its wrinkled forehead. Then the depiction of the horse-monster. “It has a Shard.” Before pointing to Nic. “You’ll give it to me.”

Exaggerating the gesture to make sure he was understood, Nic nodded.

The old gibbon’s grin widened. It tapped a symbol of the sun on the top-half of the map, and dragged its finger down to the eastern side.

“Morning?” To clarify Nic pointed to the sun and lowered his hand towards the eastern horizon.

The monkey nodded and stuck out its hand. Nic grasped its five fingers in his three, and squeezed hard as they shook. Morning. Here. A raid on a hidden cave and a mysterious creature’s treasures.

He couldn’t wait.

---

Nic was pacing through the charred ruin of the forest where the fire had clawed its way through. It was dangerous territory with nowhere to hide or retreat, and the earth glowered with chunks of ember hidden under the ash.

Bones littered the blackened earth. Planting his foot on a skull Nic pried free a massive incisor. The fire damage wasn’t enough to harm the enormous, saber-like teeth of the giant cat, and he gave thanks for the gift as he dropped them into his pack for later crafting.

Even the marrow could be good gains. He hacked open bones as thick as his arm with a bit of work and his kitchen knife, chipping the blade badly but unearthing the richness within. The marrow was cooked in its shell by the wildfire to a fine and greasy golden-brown.

Several times he was forced to retreat by a mourning creature guarding over the grave of a companion- a lover or a family member or even simply a good ally they had lost to the blaze. He had a single fight. It was with another of the feathered serpents, slipping from a boneyard as he scavenged. The reflection on the side of his knife gave it away and he turned and threw the blade through its skull in a single motion.

Something about Nic felt sharper. More alive. He had been waiting for the homesickness to come, and it did when he was still and quiet. But so long as he kept in motion Nic felt incredible.

More alive than he ever had in the city. More himself than days of hard work and nights of rune practice could make him feel.

A sort of iron-hard resolve he hadn’t had since…

The crackle of boots in the ash snapped his head up. A lone human woman with her hair shaved down to stubble held a crossbow aimed at him. Instantly he prepared to throw himself aside- but hesitated. Her arm was shaking badly. He could see the lions-head frontpiece carved on the crossbow’s muzzle swing about. The Shard on her right hand glowed brightly.

Instead, Nic took a risk. More humans were coming. He could see their shadows in the trees from a distance. This was the only one of them that had any skill in moving quietly.

He moved slowly and dropped his knife. Then his spear.

Either way Nic was confident he could take her. All he had to do was close without getting shot, and a single spray of Poison Mist would do the job.

She gawked at him. “You’re… intelligent?”

He could understand every word perfectly. She was speaking All-Tongue, one of the System's gifts, a language every species instinctively understood. Unfortunately, the gift was one-way, and Nic could only speak his new axolotl body's strange croaking language.

So he nodded. She kept the bow high. Silently, he drew on Archive Recall.

Moira Cawthorn. F-Class // Sapient (Native). Formerly a single mother and part-time clerk, Moira is ill-adjusted to the realities of Integration. Her sole saving grace is a team with powerful potential.

“Moira? What is it? Have you found somebody?” The next to arrive was a huge man with a blunt, squarish head. Oddly he didn’t give off any impression of being a warrior. Instead, the giant gave off a timid look, despite the riveted leather chestpiece of his armor and the three Shards embedded into his arm in the frame of a glowing tribal tattoo. A ripped flannel shirt was knotted around his waist, and the rest of his clothes were all Pre-Integration. “Oh.”

Matteos Strideland. F-Class // Sapient (Native). A gentle giant, Matteos worked as a librarian and a cook, enjoying a quiet life prior to Integration. Despite that mousy existence, he has shown great reserves of inner strength during the conflict.

Behind him was a thin, short woman with chestnut hair in a braided ponytail that wrapped around both sides of her head in pleats. She was the only one of them to wear only Integration clothes. A white mantle covered her shoulder with a green jerkin and skirt beneath. Despite her innocent appearance and her lack of weapons Nic’s eyes instantly caught the way she held herself, the scars on her knuckles, the blood on the iron-shod tips of her boots.

She was the one who knew how to fight.

Jessie Laurent. F-Class // Sapient (Native). A problem-case and a burnout, Jessie’s life before Integration was a comet’s path from promising childhood to a series of petty crimes and self-inflicted defeats. A passion for violence and roller derby have served her well since; she is considered a prospect for receiving a Sophont.

“It’s cute.” She declared. “You gonna kill it?”

The last of them was a child. Small, dirty- Nic knew kids pretty well and this was the kind of kid who always managed to find dirt no matter how hard you tried- and clutching a dagger in shivering arms.

“I can’t. It’s intelligent. It put its weapons down.” The shaved woman said through gritted teeth. She still hadn’t lowered her weapon.

To prove a point, Nic slowly and deliberately bent down and flipped up into a handstand. Ta-fucking-da.

It was impossible to seem threatening while you did a handstand.

The child actually burst out with bright, bellish laughter. The crossbow-woman did too- although mostly out of relief. Nic could clock her instantly. The kid was hers, or she had made it hers.

Matteos grinned. “Oh, it does tricks! Well, we can’t kill it now Jessie. You’ll have to find the kid something else to finish off.”

Nic flipped back onto his feet. The crossbow was finally not pointing at him, and his read of the situation was getting better by the minute. They were hunting for weak monsters they could cripple so the kid could finish them off. Moira - the one with the crossbow - was on edge because the child was in danger. Jessie was here for the action. The big man…

He was probably the leader, if only because his head stayed cool and his size made him hard to talk down to. Leader by default and unhappy about it.

Nic walked forward and held out a hand.

“Do you think it’s people?” Jessie asked incredulously.

“Might be. He’s people shaped. And if you think about it, there were transformation pills at the merchant.” The big man leaned down, grasping Nic’s hand.

“Well my System’s telling me it's a monster.” Jessie said, stubbornly.

“Oh shut the fuck up about your System. If your System gave a fuck, none of this would happen. Maybe it just hated someone more than it hated us and decided to turn them into a creature.” Moira snapped. Clearly there was no love lost between the two.

“Anyway, if he was a person, he’d have to be rich. Those transformation pills cost thousands.” The giant said, awkwardly trying to pretend the argument wasn’t there. “How’s that for a guess little guy? Are you a multibillionaire wandering the wastes like a neo-primitive?”

Nic shook his head. Planting a hand against his chest he declared. “Nic.”

Only as usual, his lizard-tongue made the sound come out wrong: “Na-ak.”

“Nak?” The giant grinned. “His name’s Nak, and that’s it. We’re not killing anything with a name.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jessie burst out. “What, because it’s cute? This isn’t a house cat or a puppy. It’s a wild animal and it could be waiting to kill us. For all I know, it’s already killed you with its poison skin.”

Nic winced. He could’ve. It wouldn’t have been too hard to spray poison into his face when he knelt down.

“I feel fine.” Matteos said slowly.

“There could be others out there. This could be a scout.” Moira said shakily. “Maybe we should-”

“See? Moira’s with me. We should kill every damn thing until we know for sure what’s safe for sure.”

“I didn’t-” Moira began.

“I feel fine.” Matteos insisted. He raised his voice just enough to add iron to the words. “It didn’t hurt me. We’re not going to hurt it. If you want to be the one who attacks every damn thing, well, you’re going to have to do it alone. That’s animal behavior. We’re human here.”

Jessie’s face went venomously pale and cold. But Moira spoke up first. “I agree. I was just- I’m still nervous but it hasn’t done a damn thing to hurt us.”

“Fine. But don’t let him near the kid.” Jessie spat.

They brushed past him, the child and the giant both stopping to wave as Moira went ahead, scouting the way for the pack. Jessie cast a thoughtful gaze back that made Nic’s hackles rise. She was definitely thinking about going for his throat.

But as they passed on into the charred wake of the fire, Nic followed them.

Why not?

He was curious what the natives were like. So far, they seemed suspiciously like people. People-shaped, at least.