It was an overcast, muggy day in Rimwall as Jane meandered around the streets near the orphanage. She walked slowly, paying little attention to her surroundings. People went about their business, avoiding her as best they could. It was nearly lunchtime but there were as many people in the streets as at any other time. She barely paid sufficient attention to the traffic around her to avoid bumping into people. Smelling something interesting she drifted over to a stall to find the source.

A tall, thin woman was roasting strips of meat on a griddle, then serving them with some sort of leafy greens on an orange flatbread. Jane fished a handful of Cupra out of her satchel and exchanged them for the street food. The lady called it a kebab. It was fine, interesting but nothing impressive. Jane ate it as she continued to wander, still thinking about her time since she had arrived in Rimwall, in the universe even. She decided that as she had had a kebab she needed a beer to wash it down. That was backwards really, but whatever. She ducked into a tavern and ordered a mug of beer. The Tavern keeper didn’t bat an eye and served her a foamy glass full of a local ale. Jane sipped at her drink, grimacing slightly at the sour, unfiltered taste.

She sat in the corner of the room, slowly working her way through the disappointing beer. She was still hung up on the offer of a job from the City council. Or rather not the job itself, but her refusal. Why was she so reticent to take them up on their offer? The excuse made sense, it aligned with her goals before she died. And yet. It felt wrong to her. By all rights she should accept, set them up and leave. She wouldn’t lose much time, or any if she used the time it would take her to Tier up. But something didn’t feel right. She frowned and tried to drink from her beer. She looked down in surprise at the empty glass. She nearly ordered another before stopping herself. She didn’t drink as much before being reborn. Jane stroked her chin as she tried to make sense of the time since she had come back to life. She threw herself into fights headlong, despite never getting into a fight in the first universe. She accepted everything with no questions, despite everything being so unbelievable.

As she continued her musings, a man pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down opposite her. He was tall and ruggedly handsome, with long, stylishly unkempt hair and a five o’clock shadow. A scar ran across his cheek, highlighting the otherwise perfect symmetry of his face. He was wearing a dark burgundy leather coat, open over his muscled chest. He offered her a beer. As she went to accept the drink she noticed the rest of the bar.

“Ah, Manasura, hello. I’m afraid I don’t know what the correct address is for a god,” she accepted the offered beer looking around at the frozen patrons in the tavern.

“Well lots of obsequiences, and bowing and scraping normally. And, hey! You know my name! How is that even possible?”

“Is it a secret? And I got offered a class as a Champion for a certain Manasura, I assumed that’s you.”

“Ah, ok, that explains it. I knew that no one had told you, as a god I am aware every time that my name is used,” the god offered between sips of his dark ale. “So what’s being my champion like? I’ve never had one before.”

Jane raised an eyebrow before replying. “I didn’t take it, I’m not exactly your biggest fan you know?”

“What! You didn’t? I’m shocked!” He didn't look it. “Outraged!” He didn’t look outraged either. “Appalled!” He didn’t look even remotely bothered. In fact, he looked vaguely amused.

“Overdoing it much?” Jane asked.

“Wait, you know my name, but how did you know it was me! I crafted this form to be perfect for you, and one that you hadn’t seen yet. And I’m even keeping myself from switching endlessly!” He exclaimed in his deep, slightly hoarse voice.

“Time, or at least the people in this pub, seems to have stopped, and as I’m not expecting social calls from any other gods that just leaves you,” Jane explained patiently.

“Well there is a god and two goddesses of knowledge that want to meet you, and I’m fairly sure that only two want to kill you.”

Jane screwed her eyes up and clenched her fists on the table. After a few seconds she blew out hard.

“Don’t worry about it, they won’t interfere with anyone who has been touched by another god. And Tamaititi, god of children, wouldn’t allow it anyway.” Manasura replied dismissively

“Great,” drawled Jane with a scoff. “So three knowledge deities have got it in for me and I don’t know why, and the only reason that I won’t be brutally erased from existence is that I have been touched by you. Is there some god of inappropriate touching I can complain to, as I definitely didn’t want you to?”

“Slaaville,” replied the confusing god distractedly.

“What?” Jane asked, confused.

“Slaaville, the god of inappropriate touching, among other things. Although I wouldn’t complain to him, unless you want more inappropriate touching.”

“Of course, there is a god of molestation, lovely. Anyway, why are you here?”

“Ah, yes. My presence here. Well,” Manasura suddenly looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. “How to explain this? You were about to realise something so before you drew the wrong conclusions I came down to set the record straight. So to speak.”

“You messed with my mind.”

“No. Well, yes but it’s not like it sounds.”

“You messed with my mind to make it so that I could transition into this world without being taken for a lunatic and executed, or killed by the first animal I saw.”

“Ah, so it’s pretty much exactly as it sounds. You know this really isn’t going the way that I thought it would. On the one hand, it’s very fitting, on the other I don’t know what's going on here.” The mercurial god of change was grinning ear to ear. “What a rush!”

“So are you here to undo the changes?” Jane asked, hope shining in her eyes.

“Ah, yes, no? I can’t actually do that. It’s been what, a year or two? The changes have settled by now and anyway you need to evolve again. To become the new you. Mental manipulation doesn’t last all that long, grand scheme. People change, and they overwrite themselves all the time. You become the new you. So it’s fine,” Manasura waved his hands animatedly as he spoke, the beer in his glass staying suspiciously still.

Jane lifted the glass and tipped it up into her mouth. Nothing came out, even when she completely tipped it upside down over the table. She looked expectantly at the god who brought it to her. He just grinned and drank his own. Jane eyed his glass, her suspicions confirmed when he put it down, still full.

“It’s only been a few weeks though, not years,” Jane said. “So you can change me back?”

“Er, still no I’m afraid. Not without messing with everything that’s happened and everything that’s changed here, including your skills and things. I really only managed because you were pure soul so no fleshy silliness to mess things up.” Manasura at least had the grace to sound apologetic, even a little embarrassed.

Jane sighed heavily and slumped down dejectedly into her chair. After a handful of seconds, she shrugged and lifted her head again to look Manasura in the eyes. He flinched slightly at the intensity of her glare and lifted his hands placatingly. Before he could add anything Jane cut him off.

“It’s fine, not like I can do anything anyway is it?” Just, don’t interfere anymore, if you can help it, please. This might be who I am now, but I’d like to make it on my own. Now, before you report yourself to Slaaville or whoever it was could you please explain why random gods of knowledge, of which there are three apparently, want to kill me?”

‘More like 7, depending on how you count them. And the oldest one, Sagra, is pissed that you reintroduced languages as a concept when he campaigned to remove them in the planning phase of this universe, Wikia hates you because you took all the titles from her beloved University and when word gets out their reputation is going to tank. Cunoastereainterzisa, may she one day shorten her name, doesn’t hate you really, she just finds you intriguing, and she tends to break the things she finds interesting. So really you are fine.”

“That doesn’t sound fine,” Jane was starting to get a little agitated with the casual way that Manasura was talking about gods wanting to kill her. “How do I fix this? Can I give the titles back? I don’t want them, and everyone else manages fine with fewer stats!” Jane’s voice was rising as she spoke, and she was getting extremely worried, not only had a god messed with her mind but multiple others also had it in for her, and for no fault of her own. She didn’t ask for the titles and didn’t even realise that it was possible for there to only be a single language.

“You can’t give the titles away, they are claimable and not giftable. Like the description says, whoever has the highest level of the appropriate skill has the title, the only way to transfer it would be to teach someone everything you know and for them to advance the knowledge in the field to surpass you. Or you know, if you died. But I assume that’s not what you meant.”

As Jane got visibly more agitated it seemed that Manasura got more flippant, as if he was trying to keep an average amount of stress at the table. Jane shook herself, and blew out hard again.

“Well, thanks for the information anyway, even if there is nothing that I can do about anything. Was there anything else?” Jane inquired once she retook control of her emotions.

“Nah, it was just that. Well, you’re doing alright so I’m off. Don’t hesitate to pray to me, I’ll know. And feel free to take up my class if you want, you’re not really my style, but having a champion be so far outside of my own style would be completely on-brand for me. So, see you around kiddo.”

Manasura just stood up and disappeared, with the world picking up right where it was frozen by his appearance. Jane looked at her now empty hand and sighed. Either the beer he had offered her was an illusion, or he took it away with him, either way, it sucked. She decided against ordering another and left, heading back towards the orphanage. As she stepped out of the tavern she realised that she didn’t actually know where she was. It was a far more run-down area of the town, although not anything that would be described as crumbling or even a slum. There was just an atmosphere of neglect that screamed of people only just scraping by. No decorations, no new paint anywhere, everything was chipped and faded. She looked around above the buildings but couldn’t see any of the taller palaces or the spire of the church of the myriad gods. Frowning at her lack of awareness when she wandered in she picked a direction and headed off down the street.

It only took a minute and a few turns for her to realise that not only was she getting more lost, but also this was definitely the wrong way. She was also being followed by four youths who were rather thuggish looking. They all looked as old or older than Silah or Chirembo, and seeing as Culloch wasn’t far from hitting Tier three as well, so they might well be Tier three already, or at least peak Tier two. She had them beat one on one in the Stats department, but if she was going to be outnumbered, and they almost certainly had weapons whereas she had left her sledgehammer with a carpenter who was making her a custom handle to replace the one that Culloch had made that took an acid bath.

Two of her pursuers split off down a side road and the other two picked up the pace. They were herding her, presumably towards an ambush. Jane decided to try and set herself up as best she could. She stopped in the middle of the road and turned to face the two remaining youths.

“If you have come to rob me you should know that I’m an orphan at the church, I’m younger than I look. And I don’t have any money, I spent the last of it on the ale and some street food.” Jane lied to the thugs as they approached her, her money pouch was still rather full. She hadn’t brought everything but she had more than the equivalent of an Aurum, which was apparently a few weeks salary, a few tendays salary rather, she corrected herself.

“Listen up richbitch, I don’ gi’ a fook about ya lies. I ya sniffed out, my [Nose for Value] ain’ never wrong.” The tallest one said in a barely comprehensible accent. “Naw, ‘and it over, mebe gi’ us a little kiss to say sourry an’ ya’ll be on ya way wit’ nary a scratch. O’ I can shank ya. What’s it be?”

The shorter one leered at her, his interest in the second part of her payment visible through the thin fabric of his worn shorts. Neither of them was wearing anything to cover their chests, showing off fairly muscular upper bodies covered in scars and tattoos. The taller one, the one who had threatened Jane, had a solid-looking wooden club pushed into a belt. He was wearing a pair of thick leather trousers and high leather boots, both looking like [Dungeon] make. His underling had a thin, ratty pair of spun linen trousers, but the same boots, and a dull knife, flecked with something that was either rust or blood, in his hand. Jane didn’t really know which was worse.

Her decision made Akaisha slumped her shoulders and lowered her head as she walked slowly towards the two ruffians. She slipped her hand into her pouch and grabbed the largest coin she could feel. When she was just outside of arms reach she stopped and brought her hand slowly out of her pouch.

“Good choice, my booty. Naw, be a good gal and shaw us te colour o’ ya pockets.”

Akaisha flipped the coin she held at the shorter boy then leapt at him as he fumbled to catch it. While he was distracted she grabbed his wrist and twisted it until he cried out and dropped the blade. Akaisha grunted as she took a blow to the ribs from tallboy’s club, but rolled off of shorty with his blade in hand.

“Yoo’z gon’ regret that, richbitch,” he growled as he swung at a grinning Akaisha.

“Allow me to doubt that, miscreant.” She dodged a wild blow and slashed back with the knife to make some space. “Hoodlum, goon, chav, hooligan. No? Arsehole? Is that better?”

The would-be mugger roared and rushed at her, swinging recklessly. Akaisha easily danced out of the way. The enraged roughie wasn’t as fast or as skilled as her usual sparring partners, and it was only because her Skill with a blade was so low, and that she had nearly half a metre less reach, that she had yet to end the fight. The thug overswung with his club and Akaisha kicked his arm away from herself and then spun and stabbed the shorter chav before he could grab her from behind. She ripped the blade out and spun back to face the leader, slamming her elbow into shorty’s head on the way. Shorty reeled backwards and collapsed leaving Akaisha with only a single opponent. She grinned savagely.

She caught a movement in her peripheral vision and remembered too late that two more criminals had circled around. One of them lunged at her, from far too close for her to dodge. She threw herself into a desperate roll. She could feel the blade bearing down on her, seeking out her soft flesh. Akaisha felt a sudden chill as her mana was drained, and then she was back on her feet, miraculously unharmed.

[Shatterer] Skill acquired.

[Combat Roll] 1.

She dismissed the message and concentrated on her opponents. She had felt the massive pull of her Skill and probably could only activate it once more anyway, even if she knew exactly what it did. Which she didn’t. In the middle of an attempted mugging, she decided that social conventions could take a backseat for once. Her eyes flashed as she [Identify]ed the four ruffians. The newcomers and the one on the floor bleeding out were all [Thug]s but the bossman was an [Enforcer]. She hoped that that meant there was only one Tier three class. She backed away slowly, keeping the knife up between her foes and herself. The three remaining aggressors spread out and advanced on her slowly. The two new arrivals both had short swords that looked to be in an entirely better state than the shoddy blade that she held in her bloody hand. But still no shirts.

“What are you guys? The shirtless gang?” she quipped to cover up her nervousness.

“Yeah, s’exactly what we ah. An’ we rule ‘round ‘ere.” The leader growled back as he approached cautiously. It hadn’t escaped his notice that the small scrap of a girl in front of him had snatched a blade from his gang mate and then put him down in no time. “I’m Banda, te boss, an’ ya’ll be wishin’ I finish ya ‘fore ya dun.”

Akaisha nearly stopped to laugh before she caught herself and stepped back two steps. They couldn’t really be called the shirtless gang, could they?

“You really called yourselves the shirtless gang? That’s such a dull name, striking fear into the hearts of no one in particular. Maybe if you were all women I could see it, you would be stirring up something at least. But a gang needs a proper name, a frightening name. Something like the black vultures, or the crimson serpents.” Akaisha continued to back away, angling towards an alleyway that would prevent the three of them from encircling her.

Before Akaisha could reach the narrow street Banda rushed at her, his club raised high. Akaisha turned and ran, leaping through the door of the nearest house. She smashed through with ease and came up in a crouch. One of the thugs ran blindly into the house and Akaisha stabbed him in the leg. He fell, screaming in pain. Akaisha left the blade in his leg and ripped the short sword out of his hand. She slashed across his face and moved out of the doorway. The unfortunate thug was quickly pulled out of the way, no longer screaming but spitting curses as he clutched at his ruined face.

Akaisha looked around the room, looking for anything that could help her. She quickly wedged the table in the doorway. She took the stairs two at a time, searching for a way out, but all of the windows led to the same street where two armed thugs were waiting for her. There was no choice but to jump back into the street. Maybe if she waited until they came in she could jump and run. There was a crashing noise as the table was removed from the doorway and thrown back into the room. Akaisha prepared to jump out of the window, but only one came in. The bossman ordered his minion to wait outside as he came in to find Akaisha. She swore under her breath. Although maybe it could be to her advantage, if she could take them out one at a time. She turned when she heard Banda stomping up the stairs, with all the stealth of a blind rhino in a maze of mirrors. She stabbed the shortsword into the wall next to her and grabbed a chair in both hands. As Banda stepped into the room Akaisha swung the chair and activated [Shatter Defences] with a shout. Taken by surprise Banda couldn’t avoid the improvised blunt weapon and doubled over as it struck him in his unarmoured midriff. Magical fissure lines snaked over his skin as the Skill took hold and Akaisha kicked him awkwardly back into the stairs. He crashed over backwards and tumbled down the stairs. Akaisha ripped the sword from the wall and activated [Leaping Strike]. She felt her Mana drop perilously low as the Skill propelled her down the stairs, landing astride a prone Banda and thrusting the blade easily into his heart. She twisted the blade as she pulled it out.

She climbed off of Banda, leaving him spasming on the floor as he bled out. She left the building to face the last [Thug], winded and out of Mana but still on full Health. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a single [Thug] waiting for her but seven. She swore again, loudly this time and tried to duck back behind the door frame. She jumped behind the wall and felt a sharp pain in her leg. A shard of wood, probably as long as her forearm was stuck through her calf.

“You come out now, whoever you are,” one of the [Thug]s shouted to her. “Come out now and Oku here won’t burn the whole thing down with you in it.”

“Ah come on Fothalam, hu cares, lemme burn it anyway, I gots ta level me fireball up somehow.”

“Shit,” swore Akaisha again.