An agitated squawk, from a nearby window, interrupts the encompassing silence. Forcing one, Sil Morninglove, to stir and wake from the dead.

She felt the pain instantly. Her right eye was sharp. Her head throbbed like too much of last nights wine. Even her breathing was too loud. Her mouth was cotton. And the scent, that carried through her nose, was chemical. Astringent with an itch.

She tried to pull the covers over her head, to block out the hateful rays of the day, but her body relented. Her stomach suddenly churned with an explosive menacing. Her entire being started to spiral around her.

She saw, flashes of light. A sudden, direful brilliance. Faded flickers of illuminated raindrops. Sporadic swells of pulsing reds and oranges confounded her thoughts... Then her world went... bluish green?

"Oh!"

It was just a thought. A recognition of a moment. But in that one exclamation all things fell into place. "Right. Car accident. I was messed up. This must be a hospital."

She calmed some air into her lungs, then out. Searching her thoughts. Trying to jog her memory some more. But running through this mind fog was making her dizzy. Then she hit a tree. A low hanging branch that put her thoughts flat to the ground. And she felt it.

She instinctively reached up to her forehead to feel for the bump and the blood. They weren't there. She took a moment and blindly triaged herself. Running her hands up each arm, feeling her ribs. There were no bandages.

"No IV? No monitor pads? I'm dressed. But these clothes don't feel familiar. Am I, dead? In a coffin? No, there's no light in a coffin. Unless the casket's open. Am I at my own wake?"

She rubbed her temples with the base of her thumbs. A vain attempt to massage some sense to her brain. She exhaled slowly and tried to open one eye. The one that didn't feel like a stake was jabbed through it. She saw another eye, looking back. It jumped away with a grievance. A demonstrative display of shock and surprise.

Feather and dust thrust into the air all around her. Adrenaline surged and the pain disappeared.

She looked at the bird. Then the eggs laying right next to her leg. Then the ledge. And the unconventional landscape that sprawled out around her.

She saw the brownish expanse, of the valley below her. Waving in the wind. The sky that looked a little too grey. "Not cloudy, just, less blue." Trees, off in the distance, of such odd colors they'd make autumn's fire seem cold. Insipid.

She returned her attention to the bird at her feet, its wings still spread in defiance, and she paused. This was not any bird she could recall. She liked oddities. And if this bird existed, anywhere on earth, she'd know it. "Unless there was a prehistoric Galapagos and I've just found it." She didn't believe that. Something was, "not of Earth" here. It could be just a dream. But the air and the resonance felt more natural than ethereal.

"Toto! I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," she declared to herself. In an attempt to waylay her fear.

Cautiously, she picked herself up and sat herself on the ground with her back to the rocky wall. Scooching away, just a little bit, from the angry bird and its future children. An offering of space. Still, it eyed her suspiciously. Especially since she was eying its eggs like breakfast. She was starving. Practically drooling.

As the bird slowly made its way over to the pile and was setting itself down over her brood, Sil took stock of her own situation.

Thick leather boots in a muddled brown.

Pants, made of a burlap like cloth that wasn't itchy. Same color as the darker shade of her boots but solid. Good. Thick. Protective.

A green vest. A weird lime green, vivid, with almost a metallic sheen. "Dragonfly green." It was made of a material like yarn. Knitted like a thick winter sweater.

Underneath the vest was a shirt. The same cloth as the pants, a shade or two lighter brown, with striations of red and stitching of gold.

All her pockets were empty.

She lifted her head up too fast, got swept up in a wave of bewildering emotions, her body jerked forwards, hands to the ground, and she threw up. The bird jerked but didn't fly away. It just glared.

Thin whisps, of what she though was smoke, rose up from the gelatinous matter she'd just expelled. It was mercurial. Not quick silver, but golden. Luminous and effervescent. Little bubbles popped, releasing their vapor to the wind. It took less than a few seconds for it all to dissipate.

There was a sparkle, off to her left, in a divot in the stone. She turned to look and saw an image of the clouds above, displayed in a puddle, of what she hoped was water. She crawled over to the spot and gave a sniff.

A reflection, so familiar, sniffed her back. "Looks like I'm still me," she said, to her mirror self.

"This smells like water. Good, sweet, artesian water. But I think all those survival shows say you should boil it anyway." She regarded her ledge mate, "But you'd probably be really pissed at me starting a fire up here, wouldn't you?... Toto."

The bird eyed her, quizzically, from in between its wings.

"Doesn't matter. I've got nothing to boil it in anyway."

She spied a bush with blue berries or fruit, maybe something edible. They were the size of an apple. She plucked one, broke it in half and inspected it. It looked like a blackberry on the outside, but there was one, pea sized, pit in the middle. Instead of the tiny seeds she was used to seeing in rasp or black berries. The meat resembled that of a peach. Yellow with veins of red. And juicy.

She was about to take a bite, when she had a thought. An instinct of self preservation. And she lobbed one half of it over to the bird. The bird cocked its head, at her sudden motion, saw what she had tossed and watched it come to a rest, at the edge of its nest. It smelled the object then hungrily gobbled it up.

"Okay. So its edible. For this bird at least. But some species of animals can eat things that are poisonous or sickly to other creatures. Maybe, just a small bite. Wait a while, if it doesn't make me sick then, try a couple more. Okay. here goes... I hope I don't regret this."

Her teeth broke the skin. The spray of the juice on her tongue was sour. She chewed, the first bit of pulp was bitter. Angostura, straight from the bottle. Shortly after she swallowed, a sweet aftertaste filled her mouth, making it water. She fought off the desire to eat some more and concentrated on how she felt. Fully expecting a near future of retching. Or hours of cold sweats and shaking.

While she waited for her body to finally decide, whether she'd live or painfully crawl up and die, she went to the edge of the precipice and looked down.

She wasn't very good at distances, but she knew an ice rink was two hundred feet, end to end. "If I was in net, I'd say the ground was somewhere around the top of the circles in the offensive zone. Sooooooo... let's say about a hundred and fifty feet. It's not straight down, thank God. There's jutties and steppes. I could make it down below rather easily. If I'm careful."

She stepped back from the edge, put her back to the wall and finished her... "Fru-Berry." A warm feeling came over her. A lazy, but oddly energized, inspiration. She felt sated, ready to take on the day, "I'm definitely taking some of those with me. Sorry Toto, but I think I'll be raiding your fridge dry tonight." The bird didn't even blink.

She had decided, that where ever she was, was a beautiful place. Visually speaking. She'd only met the one inhabitant and that's a sketchy thing to view a world's temperament by. It was a big hulking thing. A cross between a turkey and a vulture with maybe some pterodactyl in its wings. And even though she was pretty much in its nest, it hadn't really paid her any mind. It just wanted her, to not be here anymore. Other than the couple of times she had made a sudden movement, it had done nothing more than wake her up, then ignore.

The more Sil planned her descent, the more she talked to herself and to the bird. "What do you think Toto? If I can get to that big out cropping it looks like an easy path from there." She got a feeling the bird was smarter than it looked. At least smart enough to get an idea that Toto meant itself. Any other time she talked, with no audience in mind, it had no reaction. This time, like the others when she addressed it, the bird had picked its head up. And gave her attention.

It cocked its head to the side, then slowly lowered it down again.

'Maybe not smart enough to help me plot the best course though.' She thought that inside, she didn't want to insult the creature to its face.

She gathered as many Fru-Berries as she could pocket. Stuffing the rest in her vest, until one fell out of the opening for her neck. Then, feeling bad, she purposefully held it in her hand and strolled over to her avian neighbor. It regarded her cautiously. She stopped, close enough not to be threatening, and held out her hand with the blackish blue fruit as an offering. Toto opened its purple beak and gently picked the morsel from her palm. She felt a tingle, her ears rang. The bird swallowed the treat down, put its head to her breast and let her pet its neck. It gave out a warble, a trill, then it abruptly shoved her away.

"I get it Toto. I'm like the uninvited guest that stayed too long. Thank you. For not killing me this morning. I appreciate it. I hope your children grow up to be as fine a bird as you are."

She bid the... "Rocdactyl?"... adieu. She swore she heard the bird sigh in relief. A grumpy huff exhaled from its nostrils. She waved, lowered herself over the edge, to the closest steppe, let lose her grip, dropped out of Toto's sight and was gone.

"I guess, The baby bird's left the nest," she chuckled nervously.

A few hours later, she finally finished her arduous descent. One last drop and she'd be standing on flat solid ground. One hundred fifty feet down ended up being over eleven hundred feet of distance traveled. All together. Some up, most down, or at a slight angle that way. And a lot more sideways than she had accounted for. All of it slow and taxing. She was banged up and bruised.

She stepped off the last flat, onto the dirt. She stretched and her back cracked. "Ahhh! Victorious completion!"

She had stumbled a couple of times. Fell more than she would have liked. She'd even gotten attacked by bees. Big bees. Her clothes were the only reason she wasn't pierced. But she'd done it. Her first attempt at rock climbing and she hadn't died.

"Those bees were frightening though. Thank you, whoever dressed me before dropping me here. What is this stuff anyway? Some, low grade armor? This is all too weird. Why am I not freaking out right now. I would be if I was home. Is it because its quiet? Is the city just too overstimulating for me?"

She stopped that train of thought, it wasn't useful, not productive. She gathered her wits and plotted her course,

"You need to find a place to camp Jai. Nights coming. Let's see if we can find some rocks that spark, start a fire. Find some direction. To where?"

She smacked her palm to her forehead in frustration.

"Shit! Maybe I should have stayed up on that ledge and looked for smoke. Or lights. Or roads. Dammit! Too late now. I am NOT crawling all the way back up there."

She griped along as she scoured the ground for anything that would burn. She clacked a lot of rocks together. And eventually found two that would suit her purpose nicely. She scratched an itch on her neck. Grabbed her nose, closed her mouth and breathed out through her ears. The tightness popped. The ringing stopped. All was right with the world again.

"As right as this world has been since I got here, anyway."

Back at the small clearing, up against the mountain's base, she worked towards ensuring her survival. In the circle of stones she had made she stacked some branches and logs in a pyramid. Shoved some dry leaves and twigs underneath and sparked up some tinder.

Fur or cotton, she couldn't tell. It was just a ball of dry, stringy stuff.

Three or four sparks and it started to smoke. She blew on it long, slow and steady. It flared to life and burned. She put it to the twigs and watched them kindle. A few puffs of air and that little flame became a respectable fire.

She sat back with an accomplished grin. She hadn't felt this good in a long time.

"Maybe ever."

Her stomach rumbled. Her body ached from the slips, the falls and the strain of the climb. Her muscles burned from the carrying and gathering. So, she ate two of her rations. Leaned up against a tree and drifted off into dream.

When she woke up the sky was still dark, There was a moon, to her left, it was huge. Not pockmarked and gray but ivory, with swirls of jade mist and striations of purple. There was another object on the other horizon, to her right. Bright. About three times as wide as the thumb that she held out before her.

She went up the rocks, she had recently climbed down from, and found a better vantage, about thirty feet high. To overlook the scenery. There was many miles, acres, of that dark brown field, what she knew now was grass, that she had seen waving from the nest above. Trees. Lots of trees on the border. In pastels of rose, turquoise, violet and a fiery dark orange. A few sprawling hills. A cut out in the forest, "Could be a river or a road." And...

"Are those lantern lights? A village?"

Off in the distance. on this side of one of the bigger hills, twelve, maybe thirteen dots of light sat motionless. But not static. They blinked on and off as the trees swayed. Smoke rose, in four different places, that she could see. Barely visible against the night sky. Civilization. She hoped.

"Uncivilization would suck. Maybe I should scout it out, before chancing a meet. It could be a bandit camp. Or sprites. Or any number of things that lure moths to a flame."

She made her way back to her rest, marking the direction of the lights with a big arrow in the dirt. Then she grabbed some stones and filled the pattern in.

"There. Just in case it rains."

She went back to her tree, made herself comfortable and closed her eyes.

The same light, that had woken her the morning before, shone again. Less hateful, this time around. She woke refreshed, with a purpose. She spent a good part of the morning scavenging.

She found a nice solid stick, "Protection and walking." She picked up a shell, turtle like. About one foot wide and five inches deep. With a bowl shape that fit the palm of her hand. She washed it off in a stream, then carried it, filled with water, back to the fire. After it boiled she took it off to cool.

"Too bad I have nothing to store it in."

She wandered around exploring the flora. She got attacked by a boar like creature that threw rocks at her with its tail. She'd played some baseball when she was younger. So, she took her stance. She choked up on her stick and took two pitches, "Well out of the zone." Then she batted a rock right back at the pitcher. It charged her. She smacked it hard on the head. It stumbled and ran away. She shook her head and hit her forehead with her wrist. That annoying noise went silent.

She went back to the fire and tested the water. It had cooled, so, she sipped it. It tasted... "Oh! This is good."

She finished off her refreshment in quiet contemplative bliss. Then set herself to breaking camp. A few trips to the stream and the fire was quenched. She stored the shell with the Fru-Berries hidden in her vest. She looked down.

"I look pregnant."

She laughed at herself as she covered the wet ash with dirt.

"Just to be safe. Don't need to burn down an entire forest my second day here. Would probably not endear me to the locals."

She stood up, breathed in deep, positioned her body, in the direction the arrow pointed, and scanned. She spied a natural marker. A big tree with four branches that went up like a w. The only purple tree in that direction.

'Just walk to that.' she internally commanded. Then she breathed in deep, 'All journeys begin with the very first step.'

She breathed out, and she took it.

She walked quietly and attentive. Listening to the sound of the breeze as it rustled through the thigh high grass. She heard birdlike twurls and tweets, now and then. But pretty much, it was just the wind and the grass keeping her company. She hummed along to the rustle. It had a cadence. A moderate walking tempo, that she found, motivational.

The sun was passing its half way point across the sky when she made the treeline. She found a path and decided to follow it. Off to the side.

"About twenty feet to the left should do."

It wasn't very long before she found herself on the edge of a clearing. She hid behind a bush and watched. Carefully extrapolating attitudes, intentions and emotions.

The residents, they were human-ish. Some more like her than others. There were a few tending to a field. Others embroiled in trade. And there was a very disparate group, sitting on chairs and benches, on a porch of a dark brown building. They were very animated in their speech. Not angry, just loud. Boisterous.

She got her nerve up and walked back to the path, she didn't want to be rude and walk across somebody's crops, so she entered the polite way. The way it looked like the people of this place wanted visitors to enter.

The path made its way under an arched wooden sign. The alphabet was foreign, the language unreadable. The craftsmanship was beautiful. She crossed under it tentatively. And oddly, nobody paid her much mind. She pressed on.

She was entranced by the architecture. The fine joining of planks, the curves and the wooden pins that held them together. The she found herself standing in front of that very same building were the noisy group was. Their voices carried her out of her reverie.They kept talking, paying her little heed.

She looked up at the sign above the door and she couldn't make this one out either. An upside down V, with a horizontal arrow over it, inside a symbol that looked like half a sun with three wavy lines underneath. One of the porch denizens, a bovine headed humanoid, let out a loud sound like a burp, only deeper. With syllables. The rest slapped each other's backs and laughed. She took notice.

They were all humanoid. Three were birdlike, like the ones tending the field, four were like her in their features. And there were other mixes thrown in. Canine, feline, bearish. And the bovine headed one. She caught one's look, he had leopard eyes.

"What is this place?"

He answered her in a strange broken language. It sounded Slavic with Japanese modulation. Then he shrugged his shoulders. And pointed to the door. When nobody else offered a reply she decided to head inside. Nobody stopped her.

The inside, was nothing like the outside. The dark brown of the exterior walls was only the trim color here. The railings, the crown and floor moldings. Everything else was a very light cream. The walls, the floors, even the stonework of the fireplace, but that had a quartz like translucence.

Her attention was seized by a motion in her periphery. She saw a very tall, very thin being, standing behind a counter, or bar-top. It had downy hair, in blues and iridescent purples. A hawkish nose and shocking fuchsia eyes. It had very attractive facial features, overall, and a very pleasant grace when it moved. It reminded her of Luna Lovegood's innocent air.

It was watching her with expectation with no malice in its intention.

It greeted her in warbles and chirps.

She took a chance and walked up.

"Hello, I'm Jaimie DuFresne. Can you tell me were I am? Please."

The avian gave a shake of her head, pointed a finger up and walked through a door. Returning with an amulet on a lanyard. She offered it to Sil. Who took it, and despite all her RPG reservations...

"This is how all the LitRPGers get cursed. You know? Taking someones offering as them doing you a favor. Picking up a really nice ring in a dungeon and just wearing it, absentmindedly. It's Pavlovian if you think about it. Even though you know, in a virtual world you should get that thing appraised, the reality is, when it's you feeling the world, and not a character you're playing, you tend to slip into the, mini-mart mentality. Nothing on those racks are cursed. That sushi won't kill me. At least it didn't yesterday. I mean if you don't have the head gear on, or a controller in your hand, you might be more inclined to go by the experiences you had in your world, with out them."

...put it on.

Then the bird being spoke again, "Welcome to Soleborne Adventurers Guild, I am Tiffaya, How may I help you?"

Sil smiled brightly, "Help me? I don't know where to start. But I can tell you about the last day and a half of my life. The first day really. It doesn't matter. Okay. So I woke up here yesterday, and by here I mean this planet." she pointed in the direction she thought she came from, "That way. Up high on a ledge. By a rocdactyl nest. I have no idea where I am or how I got here."

Tiffaya's eyes flashed a curious humor. "A what dactyl?"

"A rocdactyl, a big bird with a purple beak and a big belly with huge wings."

"Oh a Klandiscor Topellian."

"I'm going to stick with rocdactyl. So! Yeah! I saw the lights here last night and here I am. With no idea, of where I am."

"You're in Soleborne, not that that helps you. What do you mean you woke up on this planet?"

"Well the planet I'm from has a moon that's grayish white and pockmarked, for one. For another the buildings are quite larger and there's more metal than wood in our transportation."

"Well I have heard of weirder things. This place is magical centric. It wouldn't surprise me that it could pull someone in. So I take it you do not have a home here, a place to stay?"

"I do not. Unless Toto wants to adopt me. I have no money either. Just these clothes, my stick, a couple of rocks, a shell, and some snacks."

"Well, if you join the guild you can stay in this one free. Other town's guilds and some inns you get discounts."

"Really. That would be great. How soon would I need to start working?"

"Half those on the porch just sleep and eat here. Sit," the bird turned, pointed at a table, "I'll be right back."

As Tiffaya disappeared into the room behind her once more, Sil sat down at the offered table and pulled out a Fru-Berry. She was taking her second bite when she heard a gasp.

"What is that you are eating?"

Sil offered her hand so the avian being could see it, "A Fru-Berry."

"That. That's a Devarass. Where did you get it. Do you have any more?"

"I have a few," she replied, opening up her vest. The shell and the Devarass spilled out onto and across the table. She didn't even get a chance to empty her pockets.

"Marchine! Marchine! Get in here."

The front door opened and in walked a man, with broad shoulders, a barrel chest and a head the size and shape of a bulls. No horns. She recognized him as the burp-speaker from the porch.

'Minataur? No. They have four legs. Minat-Man? Heh! Minat-Man, I like it. If they have hockey here I'll name my team the Minat-Men. We could have a bull in a tricorne hat as a logo.'

Before she could choose her teams colors, she was brought back, to the situation at hand, by a voice more melodic than the one she had identified with as the bulls.

"Tiffaya? My lovely?"

"Marchine, look!"

"Devarass? Are those really?"

"Yes." She looked at the anxious girl sitting down fidgeting, "Do you know how rare these are, how... expensive?"

"Five thousand Gurra. You can retire with one." The minat-man blurted out.

"And you have," the bird-girl finished counting, "twenty seven?"

'not counting the ones in my pockets. yeah'

She nodded her head, "Uh huh. Would you like one or two?"

"Marchine go get the Aurator. Tell him to bring the bank."

The minat-man left with a bound in his step. Tiffaya tried to catch her breath. "These are a cure for a disease, a plague. They are an important ingredient in lots of healing remedies. And you're eating them like they're Plonderads. You really aren't from around here. Are you? Come let's get you registered. So you can get paid and use the safe."

Tiffaya sat down with a thump. All grace gone for the moment. Shock had set in and stolen her energy.

"Name?"

"Jaimie DuFresne."

"Date of birth."

"The twenty seventh of August in the year nineteen ninety three."

"Class and skills?"

"I graduated college and have a degree in computer programming specifically graphics and game engines. I can cook. I played little league baseball, still play hockey and I ski, If you consider those skills here."

Sil looked up and the two, day-glo pink, eyes, that were staring back at her, were staring back with a look of total confusion. The bird-girl's head shook itself out the haze. She slid the paper across the table, pulled a rune-etched, semicircular stone from her pocket and placed it on a blank square on the application.

"Put your hand on this stone. Please."

A tingle went up Sil's hand, the hairs on her arm rose. She smelled paper burning. The stone pulsed a soft white light. The bird-girl took Sil's hand and lifted it off with the stone. Sil took a look at the page.

Name: Sil Morninglove

Date of Birth: All High Suns, Fourth week, Sixth day, the Four thousand Two hundred and Fifty Fifth Crossing - Post Sundering.

Class; Ranger - Level 5

Skills;

Beast Tamer - Grade C

Forager - Grade C

Survivalist - Grade B

Seeker: - Grade A

Horder - Grade D

Pathfinder - Grade C

Weapons Proficiency;

Bow: Undiscovered

Sword: Undiscovered

Shield: Undiscovered

Staff: Send Them Back Lvl 2, Spare the Rod Lvl 2, Silent Walking Lvl 3

Axe: Undiscovered

Magical Proclivity;

Animal: Feather friend - 1st Flight

Fire Sense: Fire Tamer - 1st Degree

Water Sense: Purifier - 5th Wave

Earth Sense: Directional Rhunetype - 5th Strata

Air Sense: Song of the Wind - 3rd Gust, Silence in Sound - 4th Gust

Tool Efficiency;

Crafting: Simple - A Use For The Found, Compound - Fear Not The Dark

Tools: Bowl, Fire stones, Walking Stick/Staff

She read the sheet three times. While it made sense, it didn't explain itself too well.

"And this isn't right. My names Jaimie DuFresne," she said, pointing at the error on the top of the page.

"Yes. That's what it says, Sil Morninglove."

She picked the pen up and wrote her name at the top, "See, Jaimie DuFresne."

"That's what I wrote."

She looked at the paper again. It was there plain as day, Jaimie DuFresne. Then she read it out loud, while following the words with her fingers, "See, Sil Morn... ing... love. Hmm? Okay that's going to take some getting used to. Sil Morninglove? I kind of like it. A new name for a new world. Okay. So what's all this other stuff?"

Before the girl across the table could answer her, the door creaked. Marchine strode in, holding it open for the one he had summoned. He was older, ancient. He wore a faded robe of a shimmery fabric. It looked like ripples on a lake when he moved. He was bald, with a,

'Woah! Heavy monk vibe. Shaolin not Friar Tuck.'

He saw the table and the fruit and his eyes went wide. Not greedily. Stunned. Excited. Relieved. "You are the seller?"

"Yes?"

"I am Aurator Dem Sovartish. I'm prepared to purchase any you would sell. But I only have Gurra and Gems enough for twenty."

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Jai... Sil Morninglove, Can I ask, what you would use them for?"

"The honor is all mine, Sil Morninglove. You can ask and I will answer. Potions. Healing. There's a whole town, Vesterand, struck with Withering Creep. There's the Dulanasi, burn victims, and the Vollasin camp that was attacked by Sepiants. Not to mention the watering hole in Brellan that's become rotten with Diremites. Just five of these would cure them all."

"Okay. They're yours. All of these... For the price of fifteen?"

"You'll sell all these, to me, for seventy five thousand Gurra? Why?"

"You're putting them to good use. And, if I can retire on five thousand, I can do, whatever the hell I want, with seventy five. Deal?"

His eyes lit up. "Deal."

They shook hands. Her neck tingled and her ears rang. She rubbed her neck roughly. "Dammit, That's like the two hundredth time."

"What is? Are you okay?" Tiffaya inquired.

"I don't know. Ever since I got here I get these neck tingles, now and then, and it feels like a bell echoing in my head. I thought it was altitude change. The pressure that screws up your ears. You know?"

"Oh. Sorry. I should.... you know what just close your eyes and look up."

Sil did as the bird-girl instructed.

And there, in the top of her mind, was a status chart. Much like the registration form she had just filled out.

A number of the entries were bolder than the rest. Three were in blue, another green.

Class; Ranger Class - Level 7

Skills;

Beast Tamer - Grade C

Forager - Grade A

Survivalist - Grade B

Seeker - Grade A

Horder - Grade A

Pathfinder - Grade C

Merchant - Grade A

Weapons Proficiency;

Bow: Undiscovered

Sword: Undiscovered

Shield: Undiscovered

Staff: Send Them Back - Lvl 2, Spare the Rod - Lvl 2, Silent Walking Lvl 3

Axe: Undiscovered

Magical Proclivity;

Animal: Feather Friend

Fire Sense: Fire Tamer - 1st Degree

Water Sense: Purifier - 5th Wave

Earth Sense: Directional Rhunetype - 5th Strata

Air Sense: Song of the Wind - 3rd Gust, Silence in Sound - 4th Gust

Time Sense: Right Place, Right Time - 4th Epoch

Tool Efficiency;

Crafting: Simple - A Use For The Found, Compound - Fear Not The Dark

Tools: Bowl, Fire Stones, Walking Stick/Staff, Understanding The World (Translation Stone Assimilation Complete)

Title Unlocked: Savior's Grace.

"Oh! That's just fucking great. I died and went to the Elder Scrolls. Fus Ro Dah!"

The logs in the fireplace burst into flames.

"Wait that isn't..." She felt the buzz and the ringing,

Fire Sense: Fire Tamer - 2nd Degree, Unrelenting Fire Voice - 2nd Degree

"...Oh! Crap."