Carefully, Chase tested the bindings he’d made, giving the weapon a few practice swings. Nodding in satisfaction, he set aside the makeshift pick he’d made using a femur from the mountain lion he’d killed that first day and the proboscis from the elephant-sized mosquito. He’d shaped the proboscis by using a trick he remembered hearing about being done with wood: soaking the thing in water, then pulling it out, shaping it how he wanted, and letting it dry.
To be honest, he wasn’t sure that it would work, but thankfully it had. With that done, he turned his attention to the other matter at hand. Pulling up his character screen, he stared at the massive changes that had happened since he’d killed the turtle.
Name: Chase Newell
Level: 17
Race: Human (Rank L)
Class: Locked
Achievements: Cursed, Damned, Front-Runner, Gambler's Folly, Jotun Slayer, Trailblazer
Characteristics:
Strength 52
Vitality 58
Resilience 58
Agility 35
Intellect 30
Cunning 42
Presence 21
Fateblessed 38
Available Points: 0
Curses: Tutorial Exile, Honesty of the Sidhe, Mystic Malediction
Blessings: Scentless
Perks: Beast Hunter I
Skills: Harvesting (Passive), Primal Crafting (Passive)
Abilities: None
Paths: None
His biggest gains had been from the Saint Bernard sized squirrel and the mosquito, the former granting him two level ups and the latter a total of five. He wasn’t sure when he got the Beast Hunter perk or the two skills, but the description of the skills told him that they were based off of his Cunning, which made him quite happy that he’d listened to that gut feeling that told him to boost it.
The biggest disappointment he’d had while boosting his Characteristics had been Fateblessed. He still suspected that it was a luck-type attribute, in part because increasing it cost five points to raise it a single point. But the cost wasn't what irked him the most; it was the lack of noticeable effects. He expected some miraculous turn of events with every point he poured into Fateblessed, yet nothing outstanding had happened. It was like investing in a silent stock, seeing neither growth nor dividends, and that gnawed at his patience.
With a heavy sigh, Chase closed the character screen. He still had three and a half weeks left for the Man Versus Nature quest he’d been given, and he wanted to get the remaining three levels needed to unlock the class mechanic. Mystic Malediction blocked him from taking any kind of caster class, and if there weren’t caster classes he’d eat his new pick, which locked him into stealth, skill monkey, or martial classes (if they were anything like the games he’d played before his move brought him to the family cabin).
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Chase’s musings were cut off by a new screen appearing in front of him, one that he hadn’t called up.
Primary Quest Granted:
Scent of Despair – Find and kill the Malevolent Musk-Shrouded Jackalope and its spawn before the brood leaves their mother. Rewards: +5 to all Characteristics, Home Base System Unlocked. Time Remaining: 15:13:47
He didn’t know what the Home Base System entailed, but he most certainly was interested in the boost to his Characteristics. Given the name of the quest and the monster he was being tasked to kill, he had a strong suspicion that this jackalope used smell based abilities; and from how the Time Remaining was decreasing, he only had a bit over fifteen hours.
Chase took a deep breath, the slight whistling sound a poignant reminder of his nose, or lack thereof. He didn’t know if the jackalope’s probably scent-based abilities required them to be smelled or simply inhaled. Either way, he didn’t want to take the chance, so he gathered up several pieces of leather, sinew, and other parts of the various beasts he’d killed in the last month. He had a mask to make.
~*~*~*~
Six hours later, he had both reinforced armor and a brown mask resembling that of old plague doctors over his face as he set out. The majority of the mask was made from the leather of a few different beasts, covering his eyes were the outer shell of the mosquito’s compound eyes, the beak he reinforced with slivers of rib bones, the rest of which were lining the sides and back of his torso to give the turtle’s belly shell over his front more support. The beak was stuffed full of any sort of aromatic plant or sap he could get his hands on, and he hoped that it would work to protect him.
He couldn't help but be reminded of the old plague doctors, the ones who came after the bubonic plague in the middle ages, when he saw his reflection. The beak and eyes, combined with the brown leather and the reinforced shell, gave him an almost alien look, a fact only furthered by the thick bandages around his head. But the plague doctor's masks had been made for an altruisic purpose, the aromatic herbs within to protect from the diseases that had killed untold millions.
Shaking his head, Chase set out, the quest providing him with a very rough compass. Not like an actual compass he could hold or see, more like the internal compass everyone had that let them point more or less North.
The terrain stretched out rugged and unforgiving under a sky smeared with the last tinges of twilight. The land was a patchwork of craggy hills dotted with dense brushwood, making Chase's progress both slow and hazardous. Each step taken was deliberate, mindful of not only the natural terrain but also the lurking dangers that the night could usher in.
Chase's mask proved to be effective, if slightly cumbersome. Its bulk altered the way sound travelled to him, muffled and distant, but he appreciated the layers of protection it afforded against potential olfactory assaults. He kept his newly crafted weapon close, its weight reassuring in his hands.
The rough compass that had materialized in his mind nudged him northwest. He didn't know how accurate it was, but anything was better than wandering aimlessly in this vast wilderness. Moonlight filtered through breaks in the clouds, casting eerie shadows and giving the world an almost ethereal quality.
As midnight crept closer, Chase’s senses were pushed as far as he could, each and every step taken with the uptmost care. Finally, with an hour left on his quest timer, he saw a haze wafting out of the hillside that looked promising.
Swallowing down his nerves, Chase made his way to the source of the haze, finding a tunnel hidden behind brush and deer fern. With a smirk under his mask, he slowly entered the tunnel, the compass in his mind vanishing, making him suspect that he’d found the right spot.
Inside the tunnel, the air grew thick with a musky, almost rotten smell that seeped even through the layers of aromatic plants packed in his mask. Chase's heart pounded against his ribcage as he adjusted his grip on his weapon, knowing that he was possibly steps away from confronting the Malevolent Musk-Shrouded Jackalope.
The tunnel branched into multiple pathways, each cloaked in darkness. He paused, considering his options. Choosing the wrong path could waste precious time and perhaps lead him into a trap. He decided to rely on his Cunning-enhanced skills and carefully examined the ground for tracks or other signs of passage. It wasn't long before he discerned a faint trail of fresh prints leading down the center pathway.
As he followed the prints, Chase’s ears caught the soft sounds of movement ahead: a series of slight rustles followed by a distinctive scratching. The descriptions from the quest suggested that these were likely the jackalope’s spawn—small but potentially as dangerous as their mother. The passage grew narrower as Chase moved deeper, the ceiling pressing down and the walls drawing close, forcing him to hunch his shoulders. The musky odor intensified, mingling with the smell of damp earth and something sharper, something sinister. He tightened his grip on his weapon, every sense alert.
Suddenly, the tunnel opened into a larger chamber. Dimly illuminated by bioluminescent fungi casting an eerie glow, the room was filled with scattered bones and tufts of fur. In the center of this macabre scene stood the Malevolent Musk-Shrouded Jackalope, its eyes glowing a faint red in the gloom. Around it scampered several smaller shapes, their own eyes catching the strange light as they moved.
Chase held his breath, taking in the scene. The adult jackalope was larger than he expected, its antlers twisted and sharp like wrought iron spears. Its fur seemed to ripple with a shadowy essence, and as it moved, a thick, noxious looking cloud wafted off of it, flowing almost like water.
Pursing his lips as he thought, Chase examined the chamber, looking for anything that could possibly influence the coming battle. There were piles of bones in a corner, a few of the spawn gnawing on them like a do-
C-CRACK
…make that gnawing on them like a hyena. So even the spawn had jaws strong enough to crush through bone. Lovely, just lovely.