Class: Conceptualist Hunter
Purpose, hunting but weird.
Scope?
Skill: Mark
Rare
Effect: Mark a target concept that you can wrap your head around and visualize how your next skill should interact with.
~<>~<>~
In the following days, they trained, studied, and stopped two more territory claims. And to Steven’s disappointment, they didn’t manage to meet up with Clark before the week ended.
Sunday morning, they all gathered in Margie‘s living room with extra fancy cups of coffee in hand, and Micheal’s buff in place.
Markus insisted that they “Start the day out right.“
Since he was the one making the coffee, nobody felt inclined to disagree.
Steven settled into a seat, and Buford lay down next to him. He used the dog as an armrest, earning himself a grunt.
“Everyone remembers the plan?“ Steven asked.
They all nodded. The System said the special Scenario would be similar to the Contest. Steven assumed that meant they couldn’t die during it, or at least he hoped. He didn’t want to assume too much else.
But, if the System split them up again, they all had each other‘s phone numbers. If the system blocked calls, they had plans to try and meet.
They had plans for different group patterns. They had plans for if each of them were solo, and they had plans for all of them together.
They had prepared as much as they could and then a little more. It hadn’t calmed the raging anxiety in Steven’s gut. But it helped.
They tried to chat, to ignore the tension that hung in the air, but they didn’t make much headway.
So it was almost a relief that the instant the clock hit 10 AM, the System’s voice boomed into their heads.
“Good morning, Anchorage! Have I got a surprise in store for you! Well, it’s not that much of a surprise since I’ve given you several weeks notice. I’m a nice guy like that.”
“Today, we are having a meet and greet. Everyone who currently belongs to a faction—you know who you are—will be transported into downtown Anchorage. The leadership of a faction will be separated from the rabble, a little balancing act on my part so that you bigger groups don’t steamroll everyone out the gate. Of course, for some of these events, a smaller strike team is preferred, don’t think you’ll win just because you’re big. Sometimes big means bloated!”
The System cleared its throat.
“Like the Contest, this event will be streamed to the city at large, and for the length of the contest, none of the participants may die or suffer permanent physical harm, so go wild!”
“Ahem,” the System paused as if reading over its notes. “There will not be multiple rounds to this competition. It’s one long event with multiple stages. There are no rules against teaming up or just attacking everyone you see. If you wanna make friends, go for it. If you wanna make enemies, who am I to say no? At the end of this event, the territory limit will be lifted. People can grab up as much land as they can get their grubby little hands on. Do note that more rules apply to territory taking, but I won’t go into that here. Now, with everything in mind, have fun! I know I will!”
With a lurch in his stomach and a flash of light, Steven vanished.
~<>~<>~
Steven’s boots slammed onto the icy pavement, and he tried to look in every direction at once.
The others were around him, so that was his biggest concern wiped away. The next was figuring out where they were.
The System said downtown, but that was a big area.
After a second to get his bearings, Steven placed them. They were only a few dozen feet from the courthouse, putting them on the edge of downtown. A few streets over, and they’d be in the water.
Before he could say anything, a prompt filled his vision.
“Instead of the railroaded constraints of the Contest, I’m letting you little birdies be more free range with this one in.”
A Scenario map of downtown filled his view. Dots of color were sprinkled around, pulsing slowly.
“Rather than one big event where you all have to participate or different rounds, there will instead be waves of events across the downtown area. When you get close enough to an event, you’ll get a prompt giving you more details. After that, you can decide if it fits your group style or if you want to try for a different event. Completing events will, of course, give you rewards. The harder the event, the better the reward. Fighting each other will also give rewards.”
“This special Scenario will last for five hours, or until there’s only one faction left, standing/allied. As in several factions allied together, have agreed to let the event end. I’d be kind of surprised if you all actually reached the five-hour time limit. I could be proven wrong, though. PS, you can’t leave the bounds of downtown. Hugs and kisses, System out!”
Steven turned to the others to find Margie bending towards the dogs; her hands engulfed in red and black light. Her Skills rushed over the hounds as she turned to face him.
“Okay, what do we do first?“ Micheal asked.
Del waved through the air a few times before pointing to her left. “Captain Cook monument event starting in three minutes. Go!“
Without any further discussion, they turned as a group and sprinted through the streets. 
~<>~<>~
Vern was conflicted. He had never been an overly confident man. He preferred thoughtful, while some of his less charitable family members preferred terms like overly cautious or scared of taking action.
But since the System’s arrival, things had started working out for Vern.
He wasn’t one of those psychos reveled in it, in this insanity.
He didn’t like it, and he wished, he desperately wished, this would soon be over, and he could return back to his boring life in an office. Where every day was much the same, and he could go home, pet his cat, and watch his shows.
No, this new violent world didn’t suit him at all.
But that didn’t mean he was bad at it.
As the group of seven that had jumped, his four quickly found out.
Let’s Bring Things Down To My Pace.
Epic
Effect: slows down the target. Can be resisted. Can be enhanced.
Range: 30 feet
Energy cost: variable.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Cooldown 15 seconds.
Duration: variable.
It was such a simple Skill, boring, really. It’s slowed things down. That was it. There wasn’t some grand reveal Vern had been missing upon first read, the Skill, or any hidden trick. But simple did not mean weak.
It hadn’t even been 30 seconds since the Scenario started. If Vern‘s group hadn’t been ready for something like this, they would’ve already been wiped.
If Vern had still been level one, he would’ve slowed the first man charging towards him with fist raised, then been pin-cushioned by the arrows raining down from overhead or flattened by the woman running at them from the left.
Vern was level 13, and he didn’t have just one Skill.
Let’s Make A Lot Of Things My Speed.
Passive
Epic
Effect: Your slowing effects become an AOE, and that scales with energy invested: minimum radius, 5-yard cone. Maximum radius, 25-yard cone.
Everything in front of Vern slowed to a crawl.
The arrows stopped outright while the man went from a dead sprint to a fast walk.
The woman stopped completely, but after a few seconds, she snapped the effect and rushed forward again. But by then, the rest of his team had responded.
Pulsing multicolored arrows slammed into the woman’s chest, and she vanished in a flash of light.
A hammer took the man in the side, his arms barely raising halfway before the blow connected.
The group that attacked them didn’t seem to have any other frontline.
The strategy seemed sound enough, sending their brutes while peppering ranged Skills from five other people.
It was just bad luck on their part that they ran into Vern‘s group.
Vince fired another arrow, this one blue that detonated against a man with swirling blue flames around his arms.
Vanessa charged past Vern, ignoring the arrows still frozen in the air.
Skills charged, but she was on the casters with a flash of light from her hammer. Vern closed his eyes just in time to avoid the flash.
It was a strong Augment, but it didn’t have a friendly fire option. Cries of pain wrung out, and with each target blinded, Vanessa grew faster, and her hammer hit harder.
The buff only lasted for as long as the blindness, but for most people, that was long enough.
Carla didn’t even activate a Skill. She just stood on the sidewalk with her hands in her pockets as the others fought. Vern didn’t blame her; the fight, if you could even call that, had been over almost as soon as it started.
As Vanessa drove her hammer down onto the last caster's head, Vern winced. They usually weren’t quite this bloodthirsty, but none of these people were actually dead.
That didn’t make the sight any less disturbing, though.
“Any votes on the first event?“ Vern asked.
Carla checked the map and then glanced around. “Captain Cook monument’s just a few minutes away. We should be able to make it right before it starts if we hurry.”
The others shrugged and started moving.
Pleased not to have to make a decision, Vern gave her grateful smile and then fell into step.

~<>~<>~
The Captain Cook monument overlooked the inlet. A half circle of railing, dusted with snow. Then, a circle of thin planks arranged in a spiral with a raised podium at the center with a dark metal statue on top of the captain in question. Only Steven didn’t recall the figure being 7 feet tall and shifting with cracks that shown with a blue and green light.
“Oh, that thing is so coming alive isn’t it.“ Del cursed.
Micheal nodded. “100% yeah.“
Markus scanned their surroundings as they jogged to a stop. “How long do we have?“
Del held up a finger. “A minute twenty.“
A prompt filled their vision. The Good Captain.
“Captain James Cook was a British explorer born 7 November 1728 who filled in his fair share of maps of the Pacific Ocean. He charted much of Alaska and Hawaii and went on three voyages, searching for the northwest passage. He had quite a few feathers in his cab when it came to navigation.”
“He also died when he attempted to kidnap the Hawaiian chief Kalaniʻōpuʻu in an attempt to ransom the man to get one of his longboats back. I’m reading from the Wikipedia article right now, and it describes the ordeal as Cook ‘making a series of poor decisions.’ Well, considering that it ended with him getting stabbed in the chest with a knife he traded to them before dying on the beach, I’d have to agree.”
“The objective is to vanquish the Captain or steal his hat and evade him for 5 minutes. Whichever you think is easier”
“Oh, and this is considered a medium challenge for a group of your size and skill. Good luck.”
Buford put himself between Steven and the statue. The hound's tail wagged softly.
“Hold on,” Micheal muttered and pushed past them.
Steven’s eyes flicked to the map. They had a minute left.
Micheal climbed up the statue's pedestal and grabbed at its hat.
To all of their surprise, the hat came free. That included Micheal since he overbalanced, clearly expecting resistance.
Steven stopped his fall with a quick shield.
“Thanks.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
Micheal climbed down and put the hat on. The large tricorn shrunk itself slightly, fitting itself to his head.
“Alright then. I guess we can still try to kill him, or should we try to evade him from the get-go if we already have his hat?” Del asked.
Markus frowned. “He was a navigator. The System will give him some powers to go with that theme. He might not be easy to play keep away with.”
“Try to run first, fight if we have to?” Margie offered.
They all nodded.
They fanned out, with Micheal in the back, poised to bolt. “Maybe I should just takeoff now?“ He asked.
Steven shook his head. “What if the Captain can teleport? Or a different group runs into you? Better that we stay together.“
“Fair enough.”
As the event timer hit 30, it switched, moving from their maps to the air, hovering above the status head like a hologram.
30, 29.
Steven’s heart rate picked up, but not that much.
He was getting used to this.
Isn’t that a worrying thought.
But after all they had been through, what was a fight where they couldn’t even die?
As the timer ticked to 25, a group of four jogged to stop from their left.
That got Stephen‘s heart moving a bit faster.
He gave them a quick once over.
The man on the left was thin, blonde, and handsome. And he had a bow in one hand that looked well used.
The woman to his right was a short, pale goth with a Halloween costume’s worth of makeup
Next was a tall, dark-haired woman. She was built like a linebacker and carried what appeared to be a war hammer in one hand as casually as Steven would carry around a stick.
Where the fuck did she get that?
Lastly, a man brought up the rear.
Steven would put the others in their mid to late 20s. The last man was a bit older, mid 30s, maybe his early 40s. He was short, with a bit of a gut, pasty skin, and balding brown hair that he cut short.
He had a weariness in his dark eyes that Steven recognized.
Before violence could erupt, Steven spoke. “A truce until the end of this event!?“
The goth woman narrowed her eyes at Stephen. He stole a glance at the timer. 20 seconds.
She tapped her lip. “System, will teaming affect the rewards?“
“If you ally against the event, difficulty will increase to match the new group size, but it will still be a medium, along with its rewards. If you guys have a free-for-all with each other and the Good Captain, then the event will calibrate itself differently.“
10 seconds.
Come on! Everyone in this fucking city can’t be out for blood!
The woman grinned at the same time her companions nodded. “You got yourself a deal.“ Her eyes flicked to Micheal as the timer reached zero. “A game of keep away, is it?“
Micheal swallowed as the statue of Captain Cook broke itself free of the pedestal with a crack!
It stepped down, and the entire boardwalk shook.
“Yeah, or we kill it. You know, whatever’s easier.“ His voice didn't shake, which made him braver than most people facing down a 7-foot-tall sailor.
The statue of Captain Cook patted at its head and then locked cold, metallic eyes onto Micheal.
Then it reached into his coat, pulled out a flintlock and fired.