Interlude A
The smell of bleach clung to the air in the still room, the only disturbance the single human methodically working on a table in the middle of the room. The large industrial sized equipment sat quietly in their spots on the sterile metal tables, with only one humming lowly as it thumped onwards. Lightly humming sat their master, his white lab coat hanging down the back of the chair as he waited for the process to complete.
Music wafted through the room, and the man's foot tapped to the beat as he watched his machine work. He slowly and methodically flipped through the pages in front of him, matching the flips with the rhythm of the machine. So close, and yet so far away. He looked over his shoulder to the rest of the sterile lab, all of the machines that could be buzzing and providing him answers, hopefully, and then back to the white box in front of him.
He let out a slow breath and waited for it to finish, hating the inefficiency of it all hinging on a single outdated thermal cycler. He looked over at the clinking glass vials in their holders, only the rubber stoppers blocking the smell of iron and blood from disturbing his lab. He grimaced as he remembered where he acquired the samples, the tingling in his fingertips where he could remember holding the needles.
Drawing blood wasn't something that he could leave to newly acquired helpers.
Without thought he reached over and got more hand sanitizer in response to the thought of his hands, no matter how many pairs of gloves he was wearing, touching his… subjects. If only there was something to clean his soul.
"All for a good cause," he muttered to himself, the mantra being the duct tape holding his sanity together. Flashes of memories, sterile cells, sterile floor, and sterile bars. Scrubbed clean of his filth. "All for a good cause, all for a-"
A loud ding interrupted his chant, as the cycler spun down to a stop and he was grateful. One success away from his goal, and that success was tantalizingly close. He pulled out the rack of samples, and placed them on the table in front of him with reverence-
"Good news, Professor?" A voice that creaked like a century old hinge startled him, and only quick reflexes and dumb luck saved days worth of work and pain. Had it been anyone of his new hires he would have turned around with a scowl and a stern talking to about following contamination protocols, but he held the reprimand back and instead took in a deep breath to calm himself.
"A step closer to success is always good news," He responded as he scratched at the patches of scales that crept up his forearms. He kept his eyes on the hooded figure, whose cloak seemed to absorb the pale white light of the laboratory without issue, the folds of cloth giving no indication as to the man inside. Only his hands were visible, the skin pulled taut over veins, arteries and bone in a show of age that belied none of the strength that he had seen when his helpers needed to be convinced.
The evidence of the battle was still visible after nearly twelve years.
None of the new helpers questioned his orders for long, all he had to do was point to the square mile of dirt and craters where nature refused to tread and they fell in line.
How they could even manage to muster rebellion against the aura of sheer power that emanated off of the man, if he could even be called that anymore, he had no idea. Huntsmen strayed out of the bounds of human possibility when they needed to, achieving superhuman feats and becoming more monstrous for but a moment. He was the opposite.
His benefactor made himself appear more human when he needed to. It was always subtle, and always terrifying when you only realized who you were talking to after he had vacated the premises, and your tongue had been much looser than you might have wished. The feeling of danger subsided and was replaced with a feeling of false security. Had he not been subjected to it so many times, he might have been at ease.
As it stood, he was even more anxious than before.
"And the newest Subject, Good Doctor?" The tone of his voice showed no new information, but he knew that he was expecting something.
"We've had her less than a month," He hedged carefully, not daring to move and earn the man's ire.
It didn't work.
One moment the old man was situated near the equipment on the other side of the room and the next he was in his face, his darkness swallowing the lights of the laboratory and the smell of steel overpowering the smell of antiseptic. In the back of the confines of the cloak two lights appeared, his eyes glowing intensely as he stared him down. "Beaten by a child? Is that the line of reasoning you're giving me?" The eyes pulsed with each word, with some power that the Doctor never wanted to become acquainted with. The terrifying presence was back, now uncontrolled in its intensity.
But that didn't change the situation.
He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat and set his face as much as he was able before answering, "She is willful, stubborn, and all too aware of what she is worth. She knows that we won't let her die or harm her in any significant way, though I doubt she knows what we want from her."
Underneath the eyes a wretched smile broke through the darkness like a stroke of a sword, "She is a child, no matter how well connected her Family is. I would be confused if she knew anything about your project, seeing as it was scrapped years before she was born." As he spoke his smile stretched, and a shiver worked its way down his spine as he realized that his smile was filled with teeth too sharp to be human or faunus. The man was a walking garbage disposal, and it certainly explained the grating and tearing quality to his voice, "She seems to be giving you exactly what you need. What is the issue?"
"She refuses to use her Semblance, rendering the rest of the information useless," He explained with no small amount of hesitation.
The figure backed off minutely, taking a few steps back as though it mattered with how fast he could move, and pondered the situation that the project was in. It continued on for a minute or two before the questions couldn't hold themselves back.
"Was it such a good idea to go after such a high value target?" And draw so much scrutiny onto our operation here?
The figure didn't even grace him with a look as he answered, "You asked me for a new subject and I delivered a target. If we were able to be found then we would have been found a long time ago."
"Of course," He returned apologetically, but he felt none of the regret he tried to fake. Caution was necessary for any scientist to learn, to know their own limits and limit the amount of error in a given experiment.
And he was continually aware of the fact that he knew nothing about the limits of his employer.
"If the girl is as willful and stubborn as you say she is, and I have no doubt the veracity of the statement given her family's reputation, then I fear you will have to force her into a corner to see her use her Semblance."
He couldn't mean-?! "Kidnapping is bad enough, but torture?" The need to clean his hands grew immensely at the thought.
"Nothing so barbaric," His benefactor assured with a much less urgent tone, "Simply think of it as an exhibition. A tournament among our subjects, to gather data on their semblances in use. Have them fight for amenities and niceties, things I'm sure that they'll be missing or longing for."
"And if she refuses to fight?"
"I doubt her opponents will give her the option," He smiled cruelly as the vibrant orbs disappeared into the darkness along with the smile and began to fade from the room in a swirl of black smoke, "See it done, Connors. And remember; It's all for a good cause."
The cackling laugh that echoed through the room haunted him, but not nearly as bad as the orbs that had been hidden in the hood that shook him to his core. Red and inhuman.
The eyes of a Grimm.
His eyes tracked movement and he looked out the windows of his laboratory to the hall of cells and a few of the guards watching the subjects, children, their exercise. He shuddered and returned to his samples, repeating his calming words under his breath as he went back to work, because the cloaked man was right, no matter how mockingly he seemed to say it.
"All for a good cause."
Interlude B
The sun shone high in the sky, once again in its correct position after the long arctic summer. The sun managed to push a bit of warmth into the light, but still the world seemed intent on keeping the place frozen. Birds chirped happily, and a snow hare decided that now was the time to make a grocery run. The only noise that broke the serenity of the gently sloping hillside was the sounds of boots crunching on frozen grass.
And the grumbling curses that came with them.
"Three fucking days," The voice was hoarse from the cold air, but seemed mostly unbothered by it. Instead large gloved hands pantomimed strangling a neck that was nowhere to be found, "I've been out here in this gods-forsaken dump for three days. No towns, no old farms, no mysterious cellar doors that just had to be some booze runners stash from a hundred years ago or something! Nope, just snow and rabbits!" With a flourish he whipped his hand towards the unfortunate animal without even looking as his Revolver appeared in his hands and he pulled the trigger.
The bullet whizzed in between the thing's ears, scaring the thing out of its wits and sending it into a panic as it tried to flee the area as quickly as possible. The sound reverberated throughout the country-side, causing the birds to fly off of their perches and stop their annoying noises.
...Maybe the Boredom was starting to take its toll.
...Or maybe it was the fact that he had run out of Booze two nights ago. It was one of the two, dealer's choice really. He sighed to himself, wishing once again that Reedy was here to keep him company, before flooding his eyes with Aura. Tracks and minute details became highlighted for him to see, and he whooped with joy when he saw the yellow tracks of human footprints less than forty feet away.
He knelt down in the snow near a print and examined the notification that popped in front of his eyes.
[Tracks found; Size 13 Hiking Boot. Time range; ~5 days - Present]
"Hiking boots? Did Kenny ever buy a pair of those?" He scratched at his hair in confusion before stilling, "Wait a minute, Size 13?" WIth a groan he sat down and nearly threw his right foot at the mark, comparing the sole of his own Boot with the track.
The Notification dinged glibly, and John would swear to whatever Deity actually existed that it did so mockingly, as it changed.
[Match Found! Tracks identified as [John Copenhaver's Boots]! Time range; 3 days!]
"GOD DAMMIT! I'm goin' in circles, out of Booze, and... out of my league! FUCK," He narrowed his eyes at the empty ass field, with only four or five trees in view and not a soul there to witness his outburst, which was part of the problem to begin with. He raised a finger and pointed it into the afternoon air, to the world in general, "Kenny will never know I said that, he'd never let me forget I said it."
He waited a moment, as though expecting Kenny to materialize out of a [Shadow Step] or simply walk out from behind a tree and give him shit, but no.
It was just him and an empty field.
...Maybe if he clarified for the world, and perhaps any invisible little shits hanging around, then something would happen. Looking around with a fierce scowl from his position seated in the frozen grass, he cleared his throat, "Ugh, Hmm. Kenny is better at sneaking than I am at tracking, there I said it. Happy now?"
The world gave no response, and he could only sigh in response before deactivating his [Detective Vision] with a hiss. He rubbed at his eyelids as the flesh of his eyes regenerated from the bizarre skill, and contemplated his options.
On one hand, he could cut his losses and return to Mantle, but be forced to listen to Reedy fangirl over the oh-so-wonderful works of every dead dumbass who smoked some medicine woman's herbs and fancied himself a scholar.
Fuck that.
On the other hand, he could still cut his losses and find the nearest town with a bar and drink it dry. Maybe even let the drink give him insight into how he could find Kenny. And if he were lucky, which he always was, then he'd run into something that could help him while he was there.
He pulled up his Mini-Map while he adjusted the strap of the large rifle on his back, mumbling to himself as he perused the selection of towns listed, "Fjall? Hell no, the place wasn't even big enough to have a well, let alone a Bar. Halvoen was burnt down and scavenged to hell and back," He continued scooting around his map before looking south towards the coast, "Guldkusten, eh?" He squinted at it, and he felt a tingling in his fingers as he considered it, the exact sensation that signified one of his Traits acting up.
He smiled as he placed a marker and was rewarded with a highlighted path, "Sounds stupid as hell. I'll fit right in."
End of Interludes.
I managed to stagger out of the Bullhead with barely a shake in my legs, even if my Aura was running at full tilt trying to keep [Purge] running. I ripped my bag and Ashley's from the small alcove that served as impromptu luggage and hobbled down the ramp towards solid ground, thanking Nan for the Family words.
[Purge], Level 11;
Speak thee the words of the divine and the World shall listen!
Costs 2000 Ap [Bypassed by Mantra].
-Remove 11% of Target's Debuff, 22% when cast upon yourself.
-Targets gain 120 Hp regen per Second, 43 Second Duration.
Can only affect one target at a time.
The spell was a great tool, allowing me to heal others and myself. A hundred and twenty health wasn't much for me, but for others that was a tenth of their health pool or so. A single use of the skill could bring a normal huntsman from their deathbed to half health. The issue, that I had found through testing during the flight, was that it only affected one thing at a time instead of a cooldown timer. This wouldn't normally be an issue, as it is a powerful buff, but the duration was increasing with the level of the skill and my Res.
In other words, the stronger I become the less I can use it. A small part of me wanted to stop grinding it so that I could keep that timer low, but the more sensible part of me realized that removing debuffs was much more important than any type of healing, which my natural regen covered. With that thought in mind I activated [Reinforcement], simultaneously grinding that skill for the passive bonuses, [Aura Control] for the potential to actually use my Aura as I strong enough already that I no longer needed to use it as an explosive, and then [Purge] to heal whatever tissue damage the training caused.
-[Reinforce], Level 9!
Feel the Burn.
-Increase physical stats by flooding your muscles with Aura.
Passively increase Str, Dex, Con, and Agi by (Lvl/2)% = 4.5%.
Actively increase Str, Dex, Con, and Agi by (Lvl*5)% = 45%
-[Aura Control], Level 8!
Pump it.
-Raises the Minimum and Maximum value of Aura Technique Failure Chance by 1% per level. Current values = 88% Max, 13% Min.
Boosts Ap Regeneration by 8%.
I quirked an eyebrow at the change in flavor text before closing out of the Notifications that I had been focusing on for the past eight hours. At least the training was working.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and shook the cobwebs out of my head as I stepped onto a barely paved space that this small fishing town considered a landing pad. The bullhead immediately began to take off and return to the Campus, and I was quite impressed by the amount of time that the pilot could go without sleep. I ignored the dirt and gravel that the thrusters kicked up as they rebounded off of my skin and I made my way towards where the rest of my Team were in an escalating conversation with a few of the locals.
"-problem here, hope you're ready for somethin' like that," The man who was speaking was a burly man, with thick arms crossed over a large gut. My eyes sought out his nametag as he continued to talk in a long draw that made it seem like he was falling asleep mid-word.
[Richard Hookman]
[Level 9 Waterman]
[Steady as She Goes]
"With all due respect," Ashley responded as I came to a stop next to her while Roman and Cosma stood together and behind us, as though they were trying to hide from the conversation and failing miserably, "A den of Beowolfs really is not that big of a deal for Huntsmen-in-Training, especially not a Team that has as much combat experience as ours. Rest assured, we will see it done," I listened patiently, even as Ashley poured it on thick to get the point across.
I saw his eyes squint and slowly move across the Team, pausing on Ashley and Cosma for a moment too long for me, before his eyes met mine and he smirked back at me unrepentantly. "Well, ya look like ya can hold yer own, I can give ya that," He admitted with a nod before his smile fell, "But I already lost seven people ta these assholes. Five men, a woman and her child. Don't need ta add four more ta that list, hear me?"
"I get the feeling that you didn't read our file," Roman remarked sarcastically, drawing the man's attention to himself and earning a hoarse chuckle for his trouble.
"Nah, I ain't got much time for readin', too busy workin' nets," He paused for a second and blinked before smiling widely, "Or Drinkin'. One of the two," He smiled at Roman, and I felt my hackles raise at the way that his smile didn't quite meet his eyes, but if the way Ashley's eyes were turning cold were any indication, I wasn't the only one who saw it. The glimmer that could have easily been mistaken for amusement intensified and his smile turned familiarly feral as he spoke, "Oh good, ya got good heads about you too. Makes my job easier."
"No idea what you mean," Roman stated cautiously, and despite the ease at which he sat his fingers tapped against his weapon in its inert form at his waist.
The man only chuckled, "Call it a tradition or a warning, I don't care which," He shrugged when he said this, and I could smell the iron-laiden smell of old blood when he did alongside the shuffling of taut fabric, "And as the only person in bad enough shape to not go out on a boat this morning, it's my job to give it. You're in Solitas now, kiddos, and I'll only tell you once; Watch your backs."
I watched as the rest of Team's spines seemed to straighten in response to the blunt warning, unable to nuance around what their instincts had been telling them. The small feeling of unease, that something wasn't right. I felt it now, and I could tell for certain that it wasn't bloodlust.
"The people 'round here ain't what you'd call… friendly. They honor deals, not common courtesies. Trust someone to do what they tell you they're going to, no matter how unlikely it might seem at the time," He made eye contact with each one of us, before tapping the bandage that was threatening to split when no one made a move to speak, "Someone tried to gut me the other day. These things happen 'round here, and no one'll care. This ain't Mistral with that world love crap, it ain't Vale with all those little polite handshakes. And it certainly ain't Vacuo where everyone needs each other. You're in Solitas now. Do your work and you'll be rewarded, but that don't mean someone likes you or sees you as a friend. Someone who pays you one night might stab you the next. Don't push unless you want someone to push back, understand?"
"Surely someone enforces the rules around here, a sheriff or Mayor-" Ashley started, having finally found her voice and felt the need to rebel against what was being laid out, but was swiftly shot down by the gruff and cynical man.
"The last Mayor is the one that gutted me. Didn't survive the attempt," A deathly silence fell over the three and he nodded, apparently satisfied with his work, "Glad you understand. This place is hard, the people had to be harder. Self-reliance is essential. And you four," He announced as he tapped a finger into my chest, "Are huntsmen, in all but the paperwork. You do things that no one else can, and your very existence is a slap in the face of every man or woman on this half-frozen turd of a Continent."
I understood completely, and every sentence that fell out of this man's mouth made sense to me. I loathed leaving work for others or asking others for assistance, and I can't even frame it as pride. I just expect myself to be able to cope, and when I can't due to luck or lack of skill I get a bit angry. The person who helps me isn't at fault, but they are a reminder that I couldn't do something. These people, or at the very least the man in front of us, seemed very similar. I shot my eyes over to my friends and took in their apprehension and decided to try and say something, even if it just made it worse.
"Who shat in your breakfast?" I asked caustically, causing my team to snap out of their thoughts. The older man simply barked a laugh at the query and didn't even seem fazed.
"The Brothers, every fuckin' mornin'," He grinned at me maliciously, before sobering and pulling out a slip of paper to flap in our direction, "Look, I know your mission, it's a simple one; find and kill the Grimm that took our people. Do your work, and no one'll look at you sideways."
"Is that why the Mayor tried to gut you?" Roman questioned with narrowed eyes, nodding at the man's wounds, "You weren't doing your work?"
The man's face soured as he looked him up and down, "Careful what you say, whelp. People been killed for less 'round here. And no, he wasn't doin' his. Didn't take kindly to me and a few of the men tellin' him so." He looked back at Ashley, who he could now see was the leader if only by how we were positioned, "People die out here, a lot. You get used to it, or you leave for the city."
"Took your people?" Ashley caught the odd phrasing as she ran his words over in his head, "You haven't recovered the bodies?" When the man shook his head, "Then how do you know its a den of beowolfs when you don't have wounds to match them to? Surely there are sightings in the area if that's the case," Her gold-amber eyes watched him like a hawk, looking for anything else that he could give her on our Mission.
"Someone who's gone for more than three nights might as well be dead, and it's been nearly two weeks," He informed her frankly, his tone clear and concise. This was not a point to be debated in his mind, "'Specially when they said they were comin' back the same day they left. Now we're down six workin' hands and a Lumber cart. If you find them and that cart still intact, it's the only thing I expect to be brought back. And we didn't say beowolfs, the schmuck from the SDC said that. Told us that it would get Huntsmen out here at a lower price. He was right."
"What a warm welcome," Cosma groused from the back of our group, still hiding behind her partner.
"Valeans shake hands when they meet, and stab each other in the back later on down the line. We don't have the energy for that," He explained with a smirk, "Don' know how they do it in Atlas or Mantle, but out here in the sticks the least useful person in town meets people landin' and lets 'em know what to expect. Now you know the rules, which means you can play the game. Have a good time kiddos," And with that he turned and hobbled away, evidently to drink his pain away.
I watched his back as he began to whistle a tune as he walked down the barely paved path towards the collection of seashacks and docks that extended out over the water.
"Home sweet home," Cosma said bitterly as she tightened her pack on her shoulder, "Could we get out of here as soon as possible, please?"
"Don't let that man get to you," Ashley reassured as she tried to keep the disturbed look off of her face, "What he said couldn't be true-"
"He's not lying," Cosma cut her off, much in the same way that the Fisherman had, and in the same matter-of-a-fact tone that he had spoken with the entire time, "They don't care about life, all they care about is Family and Fighting. The worst insult for these people is saying they can't fight something, second worst is saying that they should do anything. They don't lie, and they don't do politics. Either they agree or they disagree, all simple like."
"I was hoping he was an exception," Ashley whispered in resignation and horror, slapping a hand over her mouth before both her and Roman looked over at me.
"A continent full of Austins," Roman echoed as though he had seen a ghost, and I gave him a surly glare in response. He chuckled in response, though Ashley still looked like she was having an existential crisis.
"Let's get moving. Creepy he may be, but he was right about one thing. We got a Mission to do and I don't feel like spendin' any more time here than I need to," My statement got a round of nods and a 'Hell yeah!' from Cosma. Ashley blinked for a moment before she regained her composure and pulled out her Scroll for the Objectives we had on a list.
Quest Received; [Grimm Tidings]!
Strangers in a strange land, take comfort in the familiar. Even if that does involve a bunch of dead fishermen.
-Clear [?]
Rewards; 500 exp and + 2 Free Points.
"We aren't sleeping here, that's for certain. If I have my way, the only time we ever see this dump is to report back after our mission," She glanced up from her scroll and I followed it to the house, agreeing with her assessment. The place looked like it hadn't seen a visitor in years, let alone have a place for them to stay. Though, when I turned back to the others, they were still looking in the direction that the guy had disappeared. "Our target is twelve miles northeast," She continued as she pushed her glasses up her nose, and I could see the gears turning in her mind as she processed everything so far. "Roman keep an eye out. Cosma, be ready to go under the radar at a moment's notice, consider it training."
I activated [Instinct] and confirmed that the surly old sailor was the only person in the small town even as Ashley set off towards the large gate in the walls, that seemed to be made out of the pieces of old ships welded together into a barrier. It also seemed to be mostly for show, if the way that the town was a veritable flotilla ready to be cut free from shore to float away the moment shit hit the fan. And then a gust of wind came off the water, and the rusty ass wall made the most unholy noise I have ever heard.
After it died down and I could hear myself think again I realized that it was just a giant tripwire to wake up people if Grimm showed up.
The small shacks I could see were set up in similar fashion, with wood salvaged and reused in place of true mill wood. The largest building in the town was what looked to be the shipwright's shop, if the multiple hulls surrounding the place was any indication, and it seemed to be the only building that wasn't able to be packed up at a moment's notice. My eyes darted to the barges connected to the shore and mentally noted that Vacuo and Atlas had very different kinds of nomads. My ears were working overtime as waves crashed against rocks and the salty wind whipped up in a fury. The sun hovered on the horizon and I was struck by how familiar this place felt to me; the taste of salt and iron on the wind, the rocks and sea right at my fingertips, and the absolute individualism of the people.
I tried to remember if Nan had ever described where she had found me, but the most she had said was "Frozen ass forest" and that wasn't anywhere on the Map. Fenrir had said that he used to live on this continent, and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion when I realized that he was being remarkably quiet. I thought about trying to get in contact with him but realized the rest of the team had been spooked and had left me behind in their haste to leave the town behind.
We learned very quickly that twelve miles on Solitas was very different than twelve miles in a desert. A trip that should have taken thirty minutes running at full tilt quickly began to eat up time as we were forced to go around massive piles of rocks, too small to be called mountains and too severe in incline to be called hills. Trees on the supercontinent of Sanus were large and foreboding, yes, but here they were so densely packed that running through a forest would be asking for an injury.
So instead we were forced to keep to the plains and tundra, only barely managing to scale a sheer rock face due to my ability to leap like a flea and carry passengers, and follow the line on my Mini-map.
And the biggest change I noticed was the amount of animals running around.
Deer, bears, raccoons, and a bunch of other things I'd never seen in more than a pair were roaming in packs and climbing trees like a scene out of a movie. Birds flew away from our noisy bunch as I thundered through the wilds. Less humans, if the maps and settlements listed were any indication, and much more wildlife. The signs of predation were clearly visible as we moved, causing us to stop and check for human remains twice along the way.
I picked up the pace as we approached the location of our mission as the sun shined happily overhead and was quickly lost among the trees and rocks. I mulled those words over in my head, and I tried to find the fear or unease that the others seem to have found, but couldn't seem to find any. Instead I focused on matching the local plants and any wildlife to any names I could recall as we ran towards our objective.
The silence wasn't foreign to our little group, with me and Roman it was a normally silent affair with the possibility of a catastrophically loud outburst if I got amped. But this silence wasn't one of contemplation, but of ill ease. I was by far the slowest among us, and they still managed to set a pace I could keep with [Trample], but they didn't do so consciously. They moved slowly and cautiously, as though for the first time recognizing that we were always in enemy territory.
And to think it didn't even come from an ambush, just a little talkin' to from the local welcoming party.
I shrugged off the inane thoughts as we closed in on our destination, the signs of violence clear and unhidden at the foot of the forest with blood and viscera still staining the chilled grass. [Instinct] laid out the clear signs of a struggle, if not what I would call a fight by any metric, with the smell of blood and people in an obvious fan pattern as they tried to flee from their toothy deaths.
Roman knelt down in the brush and began rummaging even as Ashley and Cosma took up defensive positions with hands on their weapons. I agreed, idly wrapping my chain tightly around my left hand and extending [Instinct] by quite a large margin to keep an eye for anything important while he worked, searching for signs of our quarry. A different smell began to make itself known, but while it was passingly familiar I couldn't quite place it.
"I think they were trying to cut some of these trees down," Cosma said as she looked around, and I had to agree with her assessment. There was a single tree that had managed to be felled, and axes that had been left behind among the splotches of blood, "But we passed like at least three forests closer to town than here, why the hell did they come all the way out here?"
Ashley pulled a single blade out and lightly ran it down the nearest tree, coming off with a small sliver of bark on the end of her blade, "The other forests were Pine, evergreens. These are Birch," With a flare of Aura the piece of bark erupted into flame, "Birch sap is an accelerant and the bark goes up like a rag soaked in gasoline. As far as firewood goes, this is worth the trip. Tinder, kindling, and fuel all in one."
Cosma just sort of stared at her for a moment, before squinting at her as Roman continued to look for tracks of some sort. "How'd you learn that? Did your semblance come with a manual on what's easier for you to burn?" Cosma asked, half-seriously.
"No," She said seriously, "Trial and error mostly."
"No tracks," Roman called out from a little deeper inside the woods, "None that go anywhere at least." I met the eyes of my partner and moved towards him to see what he meant, trying to understand what combination of information was trying to pierce my dense mind before another notification popped in front of my eyes.
Warning!
Entering Dangerous Area; [Den of the Vargir]
Recommended Level: 34
Clear this Dungeon to gain control of all Spawning Pools that it is connected to.
Spawning Pool(s); 1.
The echoes of howls pierced whatever barrier existed between Dungeons and Reality, and [Instinct] began to act up as it tried to process the information. My Mini-Map flickered to the Auto-Mapping setting for Dungeons, but it quickly returned to normal alongside the disappearing howls. I could hear bubbling in the distance, along with the sound of something moving in the liquid. Feet on grass as they began to sprint towards our Position.
I blinked as I realized what was happening, cursing myself for being so stupid. "Grimm!" I called out, dismissing the notification and unfurling my weapon as three Beowolfs launched out of the woodwork, landing in between me and my team. As I watched they grew larger and their nametags showed them gaining levels before my very eyes until it came to a stop on a level.
[Level 22 Beta Beowolf]
The Lupine Grimm was much more animalistic than the newly formed beowolfs that looked more human and walked upright, with long white spines that erupted out of flesh that was still forming. The three let out roars as two launched themselves at the others and one charged me.
I met its charge with a [Block], catching its gaping maw on my arm. Its teeth scratched at my skin and began to break through as I slammed an empowered uppercut into its throat. A gale erupted from the wound as black ichor flew into the air and I effectively decapitated my enemy. I pushed the body off of me as it began to dissolve and watched as Aurafire and Dust began to explode as it came into contact with the Grimm. They didn't even come close enough to take a swipe before they turned into motes of Black that disappeared into the air.
I rubbed at the teeth in my jacket and the tiny bit of blood that was seeping out of my wound as my regeneration began to remove evidence of the fight. The Grimm were most definitely strong and easily capable of razing towns of civilians, but…
[Cosma Politan]
[Level 33 Mesmer]
[Mass Confusion]
[Roman Torchwick]
[Level 34 Eternal Novice]
[Long Fuse, Bright Results]
[Ashley Charbon]
[Level 37 Elementalist]
[Ashen Princess]
Team ACRA wasn't something to be taken lightly.
"Where the hell did they come from?" Ashley demanded as we regrouped, with them still standing at the ready. I pointed through the trees, towards the sound of bubbling tar and the noxious smell I had been smelling, a mixture of ozone and sewage. All four of us peered out from the treeline that surrounded the thing, with a wide berth where nature refused to take root around the nasty thing.
For a moment we waited, but when nothing happened I took a step towards the Pool of black liquid, intent on getting a good look at the thing and trying to determine what I could or should do when dealing with these things.
The moment I broke cover, the bubbling intensified and I heard something moving in the sludge. A single massive paw, bare of flesh and muscle erupted from the pool and slam onto the edge, using the leverage point to raise the rest of its bulk into reality. Before my eyes flesh grew on the set of bones, blackened and viscous, moving up from the pool until its the skull, filling the vessel and making the two eyes glow bright red as they stared directly at me. The thirty feet of Muscle bore a striking resemblance to Beowolfs, but it was most definitely a quadruped.
Which, if what I remembered Fenrir telling me three months ago was true, meant that this thing was impressively old.
My eyes went skyward and I could only watch as its nametag continued to change, until it rolled over and stopped on the last number.
[Skali]
[Level 74 Vargir]
[He Who chased the Sun]
It pulled itself out of the pool and shook the remnants of the fluid form its bone plates and spikes, before letting out the loudest roar I'd ever heard. The trees buckled from the sound and the dirt rattled under my feet as the very ground yielded to its fury. Its massive claws dug into the same ground as it began to bunch its hind legs in preparation for a powerful lunge.
I blame the Brothers.
End of Chapter.
Name: Cosma Politan;
Level 33 Mesmer
Str: 28
Dex: 89
Con: 28
Agi: 132
Int: 66
Wis: 160
Cha: 94
Res: 82
Traits:
[Cunning]; + 1 Cha and + Wis per Level.
[Trap Master]; + 50% Damage with traps, - 25% time creating traps.
[Weak]; - 10 Str and - 10 Con, can be removed.
Name: Roman Torchwick
Level 34 Eternal Novice
Str: 73
Dex: 131
Con: 73
Agi: 102
Int: 102
Wis: 160
Cha: 68
Res: 86
Traits:
[Natural Born Thief]; + 100% experience gain with [Stealth], [Lockpicking], and [Pickpocket].
Name: Ashley Charbon
Level 37 Elementalist
Str: 70
Dex: 219
Con: 37
Agi: 112
Int: 180
Wis: 74
Cha: 175
Res: 135
Traits:
[Alluring]; + 25 Cha when dealing with the opposite gender, + 2 Cha per Level.
[Well-Trained]; + 50% experience gain with Weapon Mastery Skills. + 1 Dex per Level.
[?];?, + 1 Int per Level.
Woof. What a chapter. Let me tell you, being an essential worker is ass and hell on schedules. Everyone else is calling out and you feel compelled to not because then nobody gets what they want.
Pay is good though, I'll give you that.
So, establishing what the characters are going to be doing, even if you don't see them, when they are not focusing on the Cosma and Ashley Companion Quests by showing the first and by far most eventful of the Missions that the SDC set up as their cover for being there.
A change of mentality that comes with being in mountainous and more isolated cultures, mostly as a pun on the name of the continent "Solitas" which is Latin for loneliness. Made sense for the people to be staunch individualists and not nearly as welcoming to outsiders.
The stats of his friends for context on how they stack up against yaboi, and you might notice something right off the bat. They have a lot higher stats than Austin, in general. As in, their stat total is actually much higher, with Ashley almost having double the stat total.
This is because he traded total points for the ability to choose where they go when he became a Gamer, while the others have more but less control over where they go.
A few nice reviews, but nothing much to respond to, though I am happy to see people putting in a lot of thought and effort to give me criticisms to work on. Makes me happy. Also, to ThatTacoGuy, the explanation for the Gamer in world is coming, and has been foreshadowed. People just seem to mistake it for other things all the fucking time.
As always, review if you've got a comment or question, love me some questions.
In other news, the world has gone a little crazy. Stay safe out there, folks.
Jericho Out.
