Chapter 3: Shadows of the Past

The ruins were eerily quiet, the only sounds the crunch of gravel underfoot and the faint whistle of wind through broken walls. Rowan walked steadily, his eyes scanning the desolate streets ahead. Beside him, Elias clung to his arm, his small frame trembling slightly despite the warmth of the midday sun.

After gathering his camp supplies and placing them in his Inventory, Rowan had decided on their next move. They had been walking for nearly an hour, heading toward the nearest settlement—Greythorn Crossing. The wilderness had offered safety for a time, but with Elias now in tow, Rowan knew they needed more than isolation. They needed stability, and settlements, for all their dangers, were still humanity’s best chance at survival.

“You holding up, Elias?” Rowan asked, his voice soft but steady.

The boy nodded, though his grip on Rowan’s arm didn’t loosen. He hadn’t said much since the fight with the Juvenile Bristleback. His bright blue eyes darted around constantly, as if expecting another danger to leap from the shadows.

Rowan didn’t press him. He recognized that look—he’d worn it himself once. Instead, he focused on their path, his thoughts flickering between the present dangers and the settlement ahead.

After some time, the boy broke the silence. “I... I used to live in a settlement,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Rowan glanced down at him. “What happened?”

Elias hesitated, his gaze fixed on the ground. “It was called Haven’s Rest. My mom and dad... they worked in the fields. We didn’t have much, but it was safe. Or it was supposed to be.”

Rowan slowed his pace, giving the boy time to continue.

“One night, monsters came.” Elias’s voice cracked. “Big ones. They slammed through everything like they were nothing. My dad... he told me to hide. He and Mom tried to fight them off, but they didn’t have any powers and…”

Elias’s small hands balled into fists. “I hid in the cellar. I could hear them screaming.” His breath hitched, and he wiped his eyes roughly. “When it was over, everyone was gone.”

Rowan’s jaw tightened. He placed a hand on Elias’s shoulder, unsure what to say. What could he say? Words wouldn’t bring the boy’s parents back or erase the horrors he’d seen. All Rowan could offer was his presence.

“I’ve been on my own since then,” Elias said after a moment. “I thought I’d get used to it, but... it’s hard. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“You’re not,” Rowan said, his voice steady. “Not anymore.”

“Where are we going?” Elias asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“There’s a settlement not far from here,” Rowan replied, glancing down at him. “It’s called Greythorn Crossing. Shouldn’t take more than a day if we keep moving.”

Elias’s brow furrowed. “Are... are there people there?”

“Yes,” Rowan said, his tone neutral. “But people can be just as dangerous as monsters, sometimes more.”

Elias’s expression turned uneasy, but he nodded, his steps quickening to keep up with Rowan’s long strides. “Why are we going there?”

“You need somewhere safe,” Rowan said simply. “Safer than out here.”

Elias hesitated, his gaze fixed on the ground. “But what about you? Are you going to leave me?”

Rowan’s steps faltered for a moment before he resumed walking. “We’ll see,” he said, his tone betraying nothing. The truth was, Rowan didn’t know if he could stay. Settlements meant rules, expectations, and entanglements he’d spent years avoiding. He hadn’t planned on rescuing anyone today—he hadn’t planned on much of anything. Life after the Manafall didn’t leave room for plans. It was survival, day by day, moment by moment.

After losing his family, Rowan had spent years wandering. At first, he’d clung to small groups of survivors, relying on numbers for safety. But trust was hard to come by in a world where desperation often outweighed morality. Betrayal and loss had taught him that solitude was simpler, even if it was lonelier.

And yet, here he was, with Elias at his side. The boy’s presence was a sharp reminder of what Rowan had lost—and what he could still fight for. Elias deserved a future, a future he had sadly been unable to give his sister.

The sun dipped lower as they traversed the ruins, their path winding through narrow alleyways choked with overgrowth. Rowan’s sharp hazel eyes caught a glint of movement ahead. He raised a hand, signaling Elias to stay still.

A small, humanoid figure darted across the street ahead of them. Its scaly, brown-green hide and elongated snout identified it instantly: a Kobold. It was shorter than Elias, with wiry limbs and a crude spear clutched in its claws. Its sharp, beady eyes darted around as it sniffed the air.

Rowan’s grip on his dagger tightened. Kobolds were humanoid monsters, cunning and vicious in groups. A lone scout was manageable, but if there were more nearby, it could spell trouble.

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“Stay here,” Rowan whispered, his voice barely audible. “Don’t move.”

Elias nodded, his small frame pressed against the wall as Rowan crept forward, his steps silent on the debris-strewn ground. The kobold hadn’t spotted them yet, its attention fixed on the ruins ahead. And they were thankfully downwind of it.

Rowan reached into his pocket, brushing his fingers against the Juvenile Bristleback card. He summoned the creature with a soft command, its form materializing beside him in a shimmer of mana. The Bristleback’s quills rattled softly, its beady eyes locking onto the kobold.

“Flank it,” Rowan whispered. The Bristleback darted to the side, its hooves silent against the soft ground.

The kobold sniffed the air again, its ears twitching. When he was close enough, Rowan lunged, his dagger aimed for its side. The kobold screeched in alarm, twisting just enough to avoid a lethal blow. Its spear lashed out, grazing Rowan’s arm, but the Bristleback was already on it. The creature’s quills shot forward, embedding in the kobold’s chest. It collapsed with a gurgling cry.

Rowan stepped back, breathing heavily as the kobold’s lifeless body lay still. The faint shimmer of mana began to rise from the corpse, coalescing into a card. Rowan reached out, claiming it.

The kobold’s card glowed with a pale, silvery light, infused with faint streaks of green that danced across its surface like ghostly trails. Its edges were trimmed with a rugged, bronze-like metallic border etched with claw marks and swirling patterns reminiscent of dense underbrush. The intricate designs seemed to shift subtly when viewed from different angles, reflecting its creature's stealth and mobility.

The surface of the card displayed a lifelike image of the kobold in mid-motion. The creature crouched low, its wiry frame poised to strike. Its brown-green scaly hide glistened under an ethereal glow, and its elongated snout curled into a snarl. Beady, alert eyes glimmered with intelligence as it clutched a crude, sharp-tipped spear in its clawed hand. The spear was jagged and uneven, crafted from wood and bone, but deadly in its simplicity. A tattered cloth hung loosely around its waist, adding a touch of primitive detail.

The background depicted a shadowy forest, its canopy thick with tangled vines and jagged branches. Pale beams of moonlight filtered through the gaps, casting fragmented light onto the forest floor littered with broken twigs and leaves. The setting evoked an atmosphere of danger and concealment, reinforcing the kobold’s role as a hunter lurking in the shadows.

At the bottom of the card, glowing text appeared:

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Kobold Scout

Rank: F

Type: Humanoid Monster

Affinity: Earth (Dormant)

Skills:

1. Ambush Strike:A swift, calculated attack that deals increased damage when executed from stealth.

2. Keen Senses:Heightened hearing and smell, allowing it to detect and track prey with exceptional accuracy.

Attributes:

* Stealthy:Naturally adept at moving silently and remaining undetected in dense environments.

* Agile:Quick on its feet, capable of outmaneuvering larger opponents.

* Alert:Always vigilant, making it difficult to surprise or ambush.

Behavior: The Kobold Scout prioritizes reconnaissance and stealthy strikes. It can be directed to scout ahead, distract enemies, or engage in brief skirmishes before retreating.

Description:

The Kobold Scout is a diminutive but cunning monster, often serving as the eyes and ears of larger kobold groups. While it lacks raw strength, its agility, intelligence, and heightened senses make it an excellent tracker and ambusher. Though it prefers to operate in groups, a lone Kobold Scout can still pose a threat to the unwary with its precise strikes and resourcefulness.

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The card felt rough, almost like the texture of tree bark, with a faint hum of mana coursing through it. It seemed to pulse faintly in Rowan’s hand, resonating with his energy and hinting at its readiness to serve.

Rowan studied the card briefly before tucking it into his pocket. The ability to summon a scout would be useful for reconnaissance and diversions. He dismissed the Bristleback and also looted the kobold’s body so that it would disappear, obtaining some kobold scales in the process. He then motioned for Elias to join him.

“Are we safe?” Elias whispered, his voice trembling.

“For now,” Rowan said. “But we need to move. Kobolds rarely travel alone.” He recalled the Bristleback into its card and pushed forward.

Rowan’s words proved prophetic a while later. They heard the faint chatter of guttural voices and the unmistakable clatter of kobold claws on stone. He pulled Elias into the shadows of a crumbling building, motioning for silence.

Peering through a crack in the wall, Rowan saw a group of eight kobolds moving through the ruins. They carried crude weapons—spears, knives, and one with a slingshot—and their movements were deliberate, as if they were searching for something.

Or someone, Rowan thought grimly.

Elias’s breathing quickened, and Rowan placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. He pointed to a narrow passageway on the other side of the street, their best chance to slip away unnoticed.

“Stay low and follow me,” Rowan whispered. “Quietly.”

Elias nodded, his small face pale but determined. Together, they moved silently through the shadows, Rowan keeping his dagger at the ready. The kobolds’ voices grew louder, their language incomprehensible but their tone unmistakably agitated.

As they neared the passageway, a loose stone clattered beneath Elias’s foot. The sound echoed in the stillness, and the kobolds froze. Their heads snapped toward the noise, their eyes narrowing.

Rowan’s heart pounded. He grabbed Elias and pressed him against the wall, their bodies hidden in the deep shadows. The kobolds approached cautiously, their weapons raised.

Rowan held his breath, his grip on his dagger tightening. One of the kobolds sniffed the air, its nose twitching. It let out a sharp hiss, but the others gestured toward the opposite direction, chittering among themselves. After a tense moment, they turned and moved away, their voices fading into the distance.

Rowan let out a slow breath, his body relaxing slightly. He glanced at Elias, who looked on the verge of tears but remained silent.

“You did good,” Rowan whispered. “Let’s keep moving.”