Chapter 5: Crossing into Greythorn
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Amberbloom Bee
Rank: F
Type: Monster
Affinity: Nature
Skills:
1. Piercing Stinger:A precise, high-speed thrust with its stinger, capable of penetrating light armor.
2. Pollen Cloud:Releases a burst of magical pollen that disorients and weakens nearby enemies.
Attributes:
* Agile:The Amberbloom Bee’s swift movements make it difficult to target, especially in open spaces.
* Coordinated:When encountered in big groups, they exhibit a surprising level of teamwork, enhancing their threat.
Behavior: The Amberbloom Bee prioritizes disorienting and targeting high-threat enemies, making it an excellent support ally in battle. Its agility allows it to evade attacks while delivering precise strikes.
Description:
The Amberbloom Bee is a mana-infused insect that thrives in areas rich with Amberbloom flowers. Known for its aggressive defense of its territory, the bee combines speed, precision, and a potent arsenal of natural abilities. Its Piercing Stinger can incapacitate foes quickly, while its Pollen Cloud skill disorients enemies, leaving them vulnerable. While a single Amberbloom Bee poses a weak threat, a swarm can overwhelm even experienced Awoken.
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The Amberbloom Bee cards glowed softly with a golden-green hue, reminiscent of sunlight filtering through a lush canopy. It had intricate, leaf-like patterns etched into its edges.
The surface of the card displayed a striking illustration of the Amberbloom Bee in flight. Its segmented body was a vibrant amber color, with black bands along its abdomen. The translucent, golden wings appeared almost ethereal, their edges glowing faintly as though lit from within. Its sharp, dagger-like stinger was prominently displayed, poised mid-thrust.
The background depicted a sprawling field of Amberbloom flowers, their golden petals glowing faintly in the light of a rising sun. The flowers seemed to sway gently, as though moved by an unseen breeze, creating an atmosphere of tranquility mixed with latent danger. Flecks of golden pollen floated through the air, adding depth to the scene.
He stored the cards in his Inventory, then examined the loot:
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Loot:
* Amberbloom Wings x2
* Amberbloom Stingers x3
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Elias peered at the wings and stingers with wide eyes. “What do we do with those?”
“We trade them,” Rowan said, tucking the loot into his satchel. “Or use them, if we need to.”
With the bees defeated and their loot secured, the clearing grew quiet once more.
“Are we going to see more of those?” Elias asked, his voice trembling.
“Probably.” Rowan admitted. “But we’ll handle them.”
Elias didn’t respond, he just fell into step beside Rowan as they continued toward Greythorn.
By dusk, the faint glow of lights appeared on the horizon. Greythorn Crossing was within sight, its sturdy walls and guarded entrance promising refuge. Rowan felt a strange mix of relief and apprehension.
Elias’s steps quickened as he spotted the lights, his face lighting up with hope. “We’re almost there!” he said, his voice tinged with excitement.
Rowan nodded, his gaze lingering on the distant gates. “Almost.”
As they approached the gates, the guards stationed at the entrance eyed them warily. Rowan raised his hands, showing he meant no harm. “Just passing through.” he said. “Looking for shelter.”
The guards exchanged glances before one of them nodded. “Keep your weapons sheathed, and don’t cause trouble.”
Rowan nodded, leading Elias through the gates. The settlement was bustling even at night, its narrow streets lined with makeshift stalls and flickering lanterns. People moved with purpose, their faces hardened by the harshness of the world but not devoid of hope.
Elias clung to Rowan’s arm, his eyes wide as he took in the sights. Rowan couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia. His home had once looked like this before the monster took everything away from him.
“We’ll find a place to rest,” Rowan said, guiding Elias toward an inn at the edge of the market square. The boy nodded, his grip on Rowan’s arm finally loosening.
For the first time in years, Rowan felt a flicker of something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel: hope for the future.
The streets of Greythorn Crossing hummed with life as night fell. Lanterns swayed in the breeze, casting warm, flickering light over dirt pathways and the patchwork stalls of the marketplace. Merchants called out to passersby, their voices mingling with the clatter of carts and the murmur of tired travelers. Rowan walked purposefully, Elias clinging close to his side, his small hand clutching Rowan’s jacket.
The settlement was a temporary refuge, but Rowan treated it no differently than the wilderness—every corner held potential danger. The pair weaved through the crowd, Rowan’s sharp eyes scanning for threats even as he moved toward the marketplace.
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Rowan’s goal was simple: to trade the Juvenile Bristleback quills for enough money to cover a night’s stay at an inn. The Bristleback’s quills, shimmering with an iridescent sheen, were valuable due to their durability and sharpness.
He stopped at a relatively quiet stall run by a middle-aged woman with weathered hands. Her display of animal pelts, carved bones, and worn tools suggested she catered to hunters and scavengers.
“What can I do for you?” the woman asked, her sharp eyes appraising Rowan and Elias.
Rowan feigned rummaging in a satchel slung over his shoulder while silently willing the quills from his Inventory. The action was smooth, his hand appearing to emerge with the quills as though they had been buried at the bottom. He placed them carefully on the wooden counter, their shimmering surfaces catching the light.
The woman’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Good quality,” she said, picking one up and inspecting it. “Where’d you find these?”
“Far from here,” Rowan said curtly, avoiding specifics. “What can you offer?”
The woman pursed her lips, clearly debating the quills’ worth. Finally, she retrieved a pouch from beneath her stall and spilled a handful of essence coins onto the counter.
The essence coins glittered faintly on the counter, their surface glowing with a soft, inner light. Each coin was created by condensing mana into a solid form, an innovation that emerged in the aftermath of the Manafall.
Unlike gold or silver, essence coins held an intrinsic value because they could be absorbed to strengthen abilities or used as fuel for crafting enchanted tools and weapons. Their utility made them the universally accepted currency among humanity's factions.
Essence coins came in tiers based on the density of the mana they contained. Bronze essence coins were the most common, containing a low concentration of mana. These were used for everyday transactions, such as food, lodging, or basic supplies.
Silver essence coins hold a higher mana density, and are often used for trading rare items or hiring skilled individuals. They were less common but still accessible to seasoned hunters and merchants.
Gold essence coins are and highly valuable, containing a much higher concentraation of essence. They were typically reserved for major deals between the factions and crafting powerful artifacts.
The coins Rowan received were bronze, their faint orange hue marking them as the most basic tier.
“Seven bronze essence coins,” the woman said, her tone leaving little room for negotiation. Seven bronze essence coins were enough to pay for a night’s lodging and some extra supplies.
Rowan hesitated for a moment before nodding. He slid the coins into his satchel, careful not to reveal the lack of weight in his bag compared to its apparent contents. “Pleasure doing business.”
The woman grunted and returned to her work as Rowan led Elias away, keeping his movements casual. The transaction had gone smoothly, but Rowan’s mind lingered on the value of what he carried.
As they moved through the marketplace, Rowan ducked into a quiet alley to catch his breath. The trade was done, but the risk of exposure still gnawed at him. He couldn’t afford to let anyone realize he had an Inventory—the potential for him to be used as a mule was high.
Rowan reflected briefly on the coins in his possession. While bronze essence coins were useful for basic transactions, many merchants and craftsmen preferred silver coins, as they held more mana and were easier to trade for enchanted items or services. Higher-tier coins were also lighter to carry, meaning a single silver coin could replace dozens of bronze ones in value.
However, essence coins were not without risk. Since they could be absorbed to strengthen abilities, they were coveted by Awoken and power-hungry individuals alike. Robberies and betrayals over essence coins were not uncommon in settlements like Greythorn. Rowan made a mental note to stay vigilant; even bronze coins could attract unwanted attention.
Elias tugged at Rowan’s sleeve. “Are we going to rest now?”
Rowan nodded. “Let’s find an inn.”
The Broken Lantern was a modest two-story building on the edge of the market square. Its wooden sign creaked faintly in the wind, and warm light spilled from its windows. Rowan pushed the door open, leading Elias inside.
The inn’s interior was dimly lit, with the scent of roasted meat mingling with the faint mustiness of damp wood. The innkeeper, a stout woman with wiry gray hair, looked up from behind the counter.
“Rooms are upstairs,” she said, her tone brusque. “You paying with coin or trade?”
Rowan pulled the essence coins from his satchel, placing two on the counter. The innkeeper’s eyes flicked to Elias, softening slightly, but she said nothing as she pocketed the coins. “Room at the end of the hall. No trouble.”
Rowan inclined his head, taking the key she offered and guiding Elias up the stairs. Their room was small but clean, with two cots and a narrow window overlooking the square. Elias immediately collapsed onto one of the cots, his small frame sagging with exhaustion.
“Get some rest,” Rowan said, his voice soft. Elias murmured something in reply, already half-asleep.
After ensuring Elias was settled, Rowan stepped back into the marketplace. The streets were quieter now, the crowds thinning as merchants packed up their wares. He moved with purpose, scanning for supplies and observing the settlement’s rhythms.
As he rounded a corner, he nearly collided with a figure cloaked in dark, flowing robes. The man’s hood obscured most of his face, but a faint shimmer of mana danced across his fingertips as he steadied himself.
“My apologies,” the man said, his voice smooth and measured. His gaze flicked to Rowan’s eyes.
Rowan stepped back, his guard instantly rising. “No harm done.”
The man studied him for a moment longer before nodding. “Be careful in Greythorn.” he said cryptically. Without another word, he melted into the shadows of the alley, his presence fading like a ghost.
Rowan’s chest tightened. The encounter was brief, but the man’s aura lingered—a mix of power and knowledge. He had no doubt the stranger was connected to the Arcanum, the reclusive faction of scholars and mana manipulators. Rowan didn’t know why such a person would be here, but he didn’t intend to stick around long enough to find out.
Returning to the inn, Rowan found Elias sitting upright, his hands fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “Couldn’t sleep?” Rowan asked, closing the door behind him.
Elias shook his head. “I kept hearing noises outside.”
“It’s normal,” Rowan said, sitting on the edge of his cot. “Places like this are never completely quiet.”
Elias looked at him, his blue eyes full of uncertainty. “Are we safe here?”
“For now,” Rowan replied. “But we won’t stay long. Settlements like this... they’re not safe for people like us.”
Elias frowned. “Why not?”
Rowan hesitated, then sighed. “Because people are desperate. And desperation makes them dangerous. They’ll take what you have, use you if they can, or worse. That’s why we have to be careful.”
Elias’s expression darkened, and Rowan cursed himself for his bluntness. “We’ll move on soon,” he said, his tone softening. “Someplace quieter.”
Elias nodded, his trust in Rowan evident. “Okay.”