“With each Aspect, I change. How long has it been since I truly felt like myself? Perhaps these pages know better than I. My only hope is ascending beyond this. I will consume my Aspects to forge my body anew.”

-Unauthored Diary

-

Ra’hel curled in the shadow of a crude wooden building. She was watching, waiting, and to be quite honest, more than a little irritated. Her coils shifted as she looked toward a nearby sunbeam. It filled her with a sense of yearning. Despite it being sunny and warm out, she was sulking in the shade instead of basking in the sun and sleeping off her big meal. It ran against her very nature. With her Unique Skill it was so rare that she got the chance to feel full. She relished that feeling.

Ra’hel blamed several people for her current situation.

First and foremost, she blamed the hidden [Archer]. The one who eliminated one of the Guild’s pet [Assassins] and drove the other two into hiding. Without them around, Ra’hel could trust her new [Physique] to keep her from prying eyes. Unfortunately, if they could see through a high level [Assassin’s] Skills, they could probably see through hers.

It was quite frustrating. Despite her rapid leveling, she was being forced to tremble and hide like she was prey. All her new and evolving Skills were wasting away in the shade, along with her satiety.

Upon reaching level 10 of her [Maneater] Class, Ra’hel recieed several Skills that revolved around her cloak and dagger approach to levelling, and dinner. [Soothing Demeanor] more than any other had kept her well-fed. That’s not to say that [Innate Concealment] and [Hunter’s Intuition] didn’t do their fair share. Stalking prey was just as valid as seducing prey, in her books.

However, Ra’hel did ignore [Hunter’s Intuition] once. She ended up with prey that was too strong to crush and immune to her venom. Thankfully, she had other wiles.

But that was then, several levels ago. This was now. [Façade], [Soothing Demeanor], and [Innate Concealment] were all consumed for the sake of her [Physique]. [Trickster’s Physique] made her hunts almost too easy. It had the abilities of all the Skills it consumed, and much more. After all, the key to any trickster’s deceit was controlling where their victim’s focus lay. The same rang true for her.

In a way, her method of seducing her prey was the same as a sleight of hand trick. She often needed to draw their attention to her soft, feminine wiles while her stronger half positioned itself to strike.

Lost in her own thoughts, Ra’hel was caught by surprise when her companion whispered a question to her.

“Do you think that the Champion’s physical prowess can be attributed to their increased Core capacity and superior Skills, or do you think that the base abilities of a person increase per level?”

The little dryad, Bonehammer, was almost as obsessed with the bodies of people as Ra’hel was. It was an oddity. In Ra’hel’s experience, dryads were all nature loving freaks who only cared about their trees. It was so odd, in fact, that Ra’hel wondered if Bonehammer would taste less like dirt and leaves than the other dryads she had consumed. For once, she was so full that she didn’t entertain that line of thought for too long.

Regardless, Ra’hel did not reply to Bonehammer. Instead, she wiped the saliva from her lips before it could start dripping everywhere. Thinking about how the little dryad might taste was making her hungry again.

Ra’hel’s silence was not enough to keep the bone-clad dryad from continuing to voice their thoughts.

“Maybe using certain Skills change the user’s body over time? Like a gradual buildup of a Skill’s temporary effects that turns into a more permanent facet of their ability. Hmmm…” Bonehammer said, to themselves, with no regard for whether or not Ra’hel was listening. “Either way, I am certain that the bones of that [Guardian] would make a wonderful base material.”

That caught Ra’hel’s attention. As the level of her prey increased, her ability to crush their bones had diminished. It was a deep concern of hers. To continuing leveling she had to eat high level people.

“Base materials for what, darling?”

Bonehammer ripped their eyes from the ‘fight’ in front of them to turn a stern eye on Ra’hel.

“I believe that I have been very clear about my stance on any sort of sexual contact.” Bonehammer all but scolded Ra’hel, their voice a fierce whisper. “This includes any sort of pet names you may dream up. Unlike your ‘Bunny,’ I have no interest in anything more than a professional relationship.”

“Mmmm, old habit,” Ra’hel said, waving away Bonehammer’s concerns. She was pretty sure if she forced the issue, she’d end up having to swallow a mouthful of dryad. Ew.

Ra’hel suppressed a twinge at Bonehammer’s mention of her Bunny. She much preferred the name over Snowflake. Snow was something she avoided as much as she could. It was far too cold for any self respecting snake.

Alas, her sweet and tender Bunny did not seem long for this world. After he was dead it would not be the same. Ra’hel wasn’t sure she would even been interested in him without the fun of the chase, and that little kick they all did at the end. It tickled.

Ra’hel peeked out from behind their makeshift hiding spot to view the [Arena] and the combatants it contained. With care, she made sure to use her [Physique] to shift attention from the small part of her face that was exposed by this maneuver.

To be fair to her Bunny, he was living up to his nickname well. He was darting this way and that, lashing out despite his futile situation. He even made his pursuer bleed, a high mark in her book. The only thing better than playing snake and bunny is playing with a bunny feisty enough to put up a good fight. Unfortunately for her, the bunny she was grooming got cornered by a wolf.

On the other hand, the corpse of that [Assassin] was probably high level. Perhaps… did levels affect taste? Would a tier 3 Core be tastier than a tier 2? Now that was a conversation she could get behind. Regrettably, Bonehammer was still going on and on about something else.

“To answer your question, I think I have devised a method to use the powdered bones of high-level individuals to forge a superior, Source infused metal. I believe the Dungeon will have the most ethically sourced bones, but I’m curious if the monsters within even have levels. It would make sense that creatures derive their power directly from their Cores as opposed to Classes.”

“Mmm.” Ra’hel made a sound of agreement but tuned her companion out. After weeks of training together, Ra’hel had learned the dryad was prone to prattling on and on about this theory and that. It was almost always about forging, of all things. It was another odd feature of ‘Bonehammer’s.’

A strange name for a dryad, that. Stranger still for a dryad to be so invested in the art of metal and fire. But, when it came down to it, Ra’hel didn’t care. She was busy blaming Quinn for leading them into this trap. And Snowflake, her little Bunny, for springing it.

Ra’hel scowled. Just a few seconds ago, Snowflake had been trying to bash the hob’s face in with his shield, then his hands, and she assumed it would continue until he was battering his bleeding stubs against the hob’s [Iron Skin]. But no, Snowflake was now flying. He landed heavy. Ra’hel winced as his body bounced from the impact.

Despite already giving up on Snowflake, Ra’hel felt her mood sour even further. That damn hob was playing with her food. She was halfway through tensing up her coils to dash out before [Hunter’s Intuition] sent a dark chill through her body. If she went out there, she would be slaughtered and mounted on the wall as a trophy. She could feel it.

An incessant noise broke through her focus. Her eyes shifted toward the source.

“Do you have a plan?” Bonehammer’s whisper had gone up by several octaves. They must have been trying to get her attention for some time.

“No,” Ra’hel said, all but hissing. She winced. It had taken her ages to crack that habit.

“Judging by the angle of the arrow, the [Archer] is on top of the cliff. There is no way we could get out of range before they spot us. The clearing around the walls is a deathtrap. Attacking seems pointless. Hiding will only work for so long. What can we do?”

Ra’hel swallowed her irritation at her much smaller companion’s penchant for stating the obvious. There was a reason the two of them were cowering behind a ramshackle hut, sheltered from view. Instead of lashing out, she said all she could think of.

“We wait for an opportunity.”

Bonehammer’s reply didn’t miss a beat.

“Or we create one.”

Ra’hel envisioned how it would feel to crush the little dryad beneath her coils. The bone armor they wore would give a nice little crunch, of course. But would they scream? One could only hope.

With her dark little fantasy playing in her mind, Ra’hel returned her attention to Snowflake’s life or death struggle. He was on his feet now, with his battered equipment in the dirt beside him. For some reason he was closing his eyes. Preparing to face his death, no doubt.

That made Ra’hel grit her teeth. Half the fun of her unremarkable little Bunny was how much fight he had in him. To see him give up so easily made her feel disgusted. How could he betray her expectations like that? It was unfair and selfish.

But then, something about him… shifted. He changed, in a small way. Ra’hel couldn’t quite put her tail on it…

Oh. Ooooh.

“I have an idea,” Ra’hel said, her irritation all but forgotten.

Ra’hel closed her eyes, sank into her Soulspace, checked her notifications, and smiled.

[[Maneater] level up! Level 15]

[Skill obtained: [Sapping Aura]]

[[Maneater] level up! Level 16]

[Skill obtained: [Enhanced Venom]]

***

Quinn was furious. Furious and stifled. Despite the clear blue skies and the gorgeous view-- an ocean of emerald green trees stretched to the horizon below her-- she felt the walls were closing in. A light breeze blew from the east, sending a wave of motion through the surrounding forest. Mercifully, no trees were casting their shadows over her. Compensating for changes in lighting was a taxing endeavor, even with the proper Skills.

Two hobgoblin [Archers] patrolled the clifftop around Quinn, along with a small gang of goblins. They had sprung out of the forest, hidden from her sight by a combination of Skill, Spell, and/or raw talent. It didn’t matter.

In the back of her mind, Quinn acknowledged the irony of the situation. The one time she went out on a mission without Angosin, she was ambushed by someone using a Skill similar to her [Invisibility]. His Unique Skill would be priceless in this situation. If only-

Quinn squashed that thought. She was here, and she would deal with whatever problems came up. Angosin was not needed to hold her hand. Even if the affection might be nice.

Shaking her head, Quinn pushed thoughts of her husband from her mind and focused on the immediate issues. First and foremost, she addressed her anger toward the goblins and their cunning trap.

They had lured the Guild in with this new settlement. It made sense that they suspected the Guild was behind the massacre. There were only so many monsters in this forest capable of wiping out whole villages.

This was the prelude to the war Angosin always suspected was looming on the horizon. Many deaths would be on her hands. Not just Natives but Awakened too.

Oscar was dead. He took an arrow to the brain and never even saw it coming. Just like that, a talented [Ghost Walker] was gone. The Guildmaster would be furious.

Quinn wondered if the Guildmaster’s anger would overshadow her guilt. She hoped so.

He would be even more incensed when he found out that the nearby goblin nation was aware of their ‘removal’ of goblin colonists. If that was all there was to it, Quinn could cut her losses, snag her remaining charges, and return home to go take her lumps. But no. There was more.

They were torturing her charge, Snowflake, to bait her and her team into a rescue mission. What was worse, was that it was working.

She had to extract Snowflake. Even if she put her personal… interests in him aside, there was still the elephant in the room. Both Angosin and Honey would be beside themselves if she left him to die. Angosin because he had already made moves to recruit Snowflake. ‘A fellow man with a curious soul, brought to my attention by fate,’ he had said. Quinn could already envision the hours of Angosin running through possible scenarios with her. Scenarios where she could have saved him instead of leaving him to his doom. The thought of those endless hours made her break out in a cold sweat.

Then there was Honey, the mother hen. Where Angosin would be cool and calculating, Quinn was convinced that Honey would try to kill her. That woman was all fire and no caution. She would blame Quinn for letting her precious chicklet perish on a ‘routine Guild assessment’ and extract the blood price. The scary thing was that she probably could. If she pulled out all the stops, perhaps only a handful of Awakened could stop the [Kinetic Battlemage]. Most Awakened with that sort of power did not linger. They ascended the Dungeon.

If the Guildmaster was forced to call in Honey’s debt over something so petty, he would have Quinn and Angosin bent over the barrel for years, if not decades.

So, Quinn had to rescue Snowflake. Probably even the other two while she was at. But she could not waste the lives of the remaining [Assassins] to do it. The Guildmaster would have her head for losing more Guild assets, especially in exchange for what were, essentially, assets still in development. That limited her options.

She inched to the edge of the cliff and peeked over. The painted hobgoblin was still playing around with Snowflake. Good. She still had a little time to put together a plan.

First and foremost, she sent [Message] Spells to her remaining two [Assassins], assessing their situations. Maika reported back first. She was a true blue [Assassin] and she was in position to remove the tribe’s Shaman. As such, she was no good in a stand-up fight. The best she could do was remove her target and throw out a [Smokescreen] for a distraction; maybe take out a few others before she was forced to escape.

Kabron checked in a few seconds after Maika. He was in the vicinity of the Chieftain, but as a [Sword Slayer] that multiclassed in [Thief], he just didn’t have the Skills to get closer while remaining unseen. However, he was Quinn’s best bet for a tier 3 fighter in this situation.

Quinn considered sending out for help, but there was no way the Guild would be able to mobilize in time. After thinking about it, she decided to send a [Message] to the Guild’s headquarters, detailing the situation. If everything went wrong, they should know what happened.

For Kabron and Maika to act, Quinn had to deal with the hobs up here. Two hobs with long ranged Classes would decimate the two [Assassins]. The lesser goblins were still a threat, but not as much of one. Lower tier often meant lower level, which meant less powerful Skills and less Source to use what Skills they did have. Any tier 3 Awakened worth their salt could shrug off a few arrows, even Skill fueled ones.

That’s not to say that her [Assassins] would be able to ignore the concentrated might of the lesser goblins. A thousand papercuts can kill just as well as a sword through the brain. She would just have to trust that they didn’t get to this tier and level by luck. Or if they did, she hoped their luck would hold. For their sake, and hers.

At least there was plenty of light out. It was one of the few positives. After all, that’s what an [Illusionist] did. They manipulated the light to trick and kill. Quinn was one of the best.